The Reach

forgot he was even there. Wasserman had insisted that he was trustworthy, if a bit slow, and that whatever they spoke of would most likely go right over his head, so she shouldn't worry about what was said around him.

All that seemed to be true. He did not talk much. After Sarah arrived in the room he would smile at her, and then make a show of studying the bookshelves or cleaning up the toys.

During the first three visits to the playroom, Sarah sat quietly at the little table near the window. They were careful to keep her visits at times when other children were not around. She was clearly more alert, her eyes following movement, but she would not speak again or get up from her chair until an orderly arrived to return her to her room.

Jess spent the hours talking about what had happened during the previous day, or problems she was having with a paper or an exam, or she sketched, or simply took notes on Sarah's condition. Sometimes she felt as if she was getting more out of the sessions than Sarah herself.

On the fourth visit, however, something had changed. Sarah was already waiting for her in the playroom, dressed in a simple blue jumpsuit and standing by the window.

Jess hardly recognized her at first. Her hair had been brushed and held away from her face with a band, and her eyes were alert and bright, though ringed with dark circles like bruises. She looked almost pretty, in a plain, backwoods sort of way.

Her breasts are starting to show, Jess thought with some surprise. She's so young. Is it just something I hadn't noticed before?

The air hung heavy and still. Sunlight fell in squares through the wire mesh windows onto the maroon carpet and children's toys. A large plastic tube to crawl through, and a low, yellow plastic slide. More toys lay abandoned along the edges of the room; nothing sharp or heavy, everything plastic and worn smooth from hundreds of tiny hands. Jess noticed the sink the little girl had been playing with the first time she had come here. She wondered about Dennis, the autistic young man in the baseball cap, whether he had anywhere else to go, whether they would ever release him. What had he said to her that first day? / make her spirit glow.

The room was empty except for the three of them, Sarah, Jess, and Jeffrey standing motionless now in the corner. Jess caught Sarah's eyes darting left and right. Her eyes settled on the man for a moment, something glowing there, a spark of emotion. Then back to Jess's face.

How long has it been? she wondered. How long since you've been aware of something other than the padded walls of that cell, or the walls inside your own mind?

As she stood there, dumbfounded, Sarah crossed the room without a word and took her hand. Her grip was like that of a swimmer clinging to the rocks in deep water.

She convinced Jeffrey to lock the doors and leave them alone, promising to behave herself. He told her he would be right outside, and to call if she needed anything.

'Go ahead,' Jess said to the girl, after he had left. 'You can do what you want in here, play with what you like. No rules.'

Jess let Sarah explore the room slowly. She sat in a molded plastic chair near the door and watched without speaking as Sarah picked up a naked plastic doll, and discarded it; then a set of soft cloth blocks with pictures of animals; then a bright yellow plastic plate and spoon from a child's tea set. The girl moved easily, her visible symptoms almost completely gone.

Jess wondered again why Wasserman had had such a sudden change of heart since he had agreed to move the sessions upstairs. He had hardly spoken with her at all the past week. Do not allow her to touch you. From restraints and unsettling warnings to almost complete freedom. Had he simply seen an astonishing improvement and rewarded it? It seemed unlikely, considering his distrust. Why wouldn't he just assume Sarah was playing more games, waiting for another chance to escape?

Sarah climbed up the colorful little slide and sat at the top, then climbed down. She went and looked inside the plastic tunnel. She went to the window and stood on tiptoes, looking out into the sunlight for a long time. Then she turned away and picked up a picture book from the built-in shelves on the opposite wall, and carried it with her to a smaller chair near a child's table, where she sat with it in her lap, looking at the cover.

'I've got a present for you,' Jess said. 'Some people say ten is too old for something like this. But I say you're never too old for a friend.'

She picked up the paper shopping bag she had carried in with her and took out a worn, well-loved teddy bear. She had removed the plastic eyes and replaced them with two pieces of blue felt, but otherwise he was the same as he had always been.

'This bear's name is Connor. He was mine when I was about your age. He helped me through some hard times. He's yours now, if you want him.'

For a moment she was back in the bedroom she had shared with her mother, holding on to that bear with her life, waiting for the bang of the screen door. She never knew if her mother would be alone, or would be half carried, half dragged to the couch by someone she'd met at the bar. On the worst nights, she'd crawl under her bed and sleep curled against the wall in the dust, rather than face what was outside the bedroom door.

Sarah got up and crossed the room. She took the bear and studied its face, fingering the spots that were worn smooth with age and handling. Then she returned to the table and picked up the book again. The bear sat next to her, deaf and blind.

They both sat in silence for a while. 'I like it here,' Sarah said without looking up.

'Didn't you come to the playroom before I started visiting you?'

'I don't remember.' She nodded somberly and made brief eye contact. 'I guess maybe.'

Her eyes are so very dark, Jess thought. And so sad. 'Does that happen a lot, are there a lot of times when you can't remember?'

'Yes,' Sarah said, flipping the pages of the book in her hand. 'Those are gray times.'

'You were sick for a while but now you're feeling better.'

'I waited for you to come back today,' she said, shyly now. 'I knew you would. You were nice to me. You want to help me. I can tell.'

'Aren't there others here who want to help you?'

She shook her head. 'They give me pills and shots and the gray comes and swallows me up.' She put the book down on the table and went over to the window again, hooking her little fingers into the wire mesh. 'It's pretty out there. I like it.'

'We'll go out and play on the lawn sometime.'

'Can we?' Turning back excitedly.

'As soon as Dr. Wasserman says it's okay.'

Immediately Sarah's smile vanished. 'He'll never let us.'

'Oh, I don't know about that. He might surprise you.'

'No way,' she said. 'But I could leave if I wanted, right now. I could just. . . break out.'

'Just walk out the door?'

She shrugged. 'If I wanted.'

'But they're locked.'

'I can break them.'

They were silent for a moment. Jess hesitated. 'Why don't you, then? Just open those doors and walk out.'

'I'm not supposed to.' Sarah turned to stare at the large wooden doors. She narrowed her eyes into squints, her forehead wrinkling, mouth tightening into a pucker of concentration. Jess waited, held her breath as if breathing would break the spell. What am I expecting? The doors to go blasting off their hinges?

'I can't,' Sarah said finally. 'I told you. I'm not supposed to do that here.'

'All right,' Jess said. 'That's fine. I'd rather have you stay here with me. Now I want to ask you something. A while back when I was here you had a seizure. Do you know what that is?'

'Not a see. . . see-sure. I only fainted. I do that sometimes when I get really upset.'

'Well, maybe that's one of the reasons the doctors want to keep an eye on you. To make sure you don't hurt yourself.'

'I wouldn't hurt myself. I just didn't want any more shots.'

'You wanted them to leave you alone?'