Harm's Reach

45

The following morning, Ren awoke to an email in her personal account that sent a bolt of panic through her. She read it again.

No. Not now. Please. No.

She called her brother, Matt.

‘I feel mean saying this,’ said Ren. ‘Really mean. But I just got an email from Annie. She’s coming home next month. I am about to be homeless.’

‘It’ll be nice for you to see her again?’ said Matt.

‘I know — I’m horrible,’ said Ren.

‘I’m kidding, I’m preying on your guilt,’ said Matt. ‘Shit. That’s a bummer. What are you going to do?’

Probably go off the rails...

‘Bear in mind... moving house, Ren. It’s a possible trigger for you...’

Triggers... the sparks that light the fuse that sends the bipolar person shooting into the atmosphere on a high or spiraling underground into darkness.

Ren leaned toward mania. She knew her triggers. Some were the things that affected everyone, sane or otherwise: stress, moving house, bereavement, the end of a relationship. Then there were triggers common to most bipolar people: travel, sleep-deprivation, tension at work/home, junk food, excess caffeine. Then there were the ones brought on specifically by her job: criminals and the high-energy pursuit thereof.

It was the best job in the world.

Adrenaline, adrenaline, adrenaline, mania.

Stress, stress, stress, mania.

Party on.

‘Are you there?’ said Matt.

Ren sighed. ‘Trigger Watch with Matthew Bryce...’

‘Shut it,’ said Matt. ‘And talk to Batman about these things.’

Dr Leonard Lone sat at his desk, part-framed by two leafy plants, one on each end of the window sill behind him. Outside, the sun was beating down and it seemed to be making him glow.

‘You know, Ren, that triggers are not respecters of medication,’ said Dr Lone. ‘If you can think of them, maybe, as kryptonite.’

Woo-hoo! Superhero stuff!

‘Triggers get through the net,’ said Lone. ‘They know where your weaknesses lie. As long as you know that you’re not invincible by being on meds.’

‘I’m too normal to feel invincible.’ Ren laughed. ‘You can’t feel invincible if all you’re doing is, like, washing the dishes.’

‘Do you wash the dishes a lot?’ said Lone.

‘No,’ said Ren. ‘That was a bad example.’

‘Do you feel ordinary on medication?’ said Lone.

‘I know I’m ordinary,’ said Ren. But sometimes I’m Ren Rader! Fearless delusionist!

‘You’re not ordinary,’ said Lone. ‘Trust me — you’re not someone I would ever file under the word “ordinary”.’

‘Am I extraordinary?’ said Ren.

He laughed. ‘Yes, Ren. You’re extraordinary...’

‘Thank you.’

‘Your mood is stable, Ren. But you can’t associate stability with “ordinariness”.’

Ren thought of Conor Gorman sitting on the sofa of The Darned Heart. Conor Gorman is like me. Uncomfortable in ordinariness. Likely to buck against whatever makes him feel that way... stable home, ranch with a bunch of teens he probably feels he has nothing in common with...

Dr Lone continued. ‘It’s a dangerous thought to allow to take root.’

And Jesse Coombes believes God whispers in his ear. He can’t possibly think he’s ordinary.

‘No one wants to feel ordinary,’ said Lone. ‘The problem is that, if you associate that with meds, your first step in trying to feel “extraordinary” is to stop taking them.’

Ren nodded.

In forty-three residents of The Darned Heart, could Conor Gorman and Jesse Coombes have found each other? Who’s going to tell me that? What about the abbey? Could either of the boys have been sent there to help out? As punishment? Would Eleanor Jensen tell me if they were?

‘It’s important to understand that,’ said Lone.

He sat back, his head tilted.

Shit. What?

‘To really take it on board,’ said Lone.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. ‘I know,’ said Ren. ‘Keep taking the meds.’

‘I’m hoping that some of these points will stay with you and help you when you’re alone and faced with certain choices,’ said Dr Lone.

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘Thank you.’ She stood up to leave. ‘Just one thing... if triggers bypass meds...’ Then what’s the point of taking meds?

Dr Lone waited.

‘Aw, nothing,’ said Ren.

‘Nothing...’ said Dr Lone.

Ren walked to the door. ‘Triggers are much easier to handle when they’re part of a weapon — not when they’re the weapon itself.’

When she turned back, she could see a stillness in Dr Lone’s face. He just knew. They both did.

The previous hour had been a waste of time for both of them.

Eleanor Jensen welcomed Ren into the abbey library. Ren took out two photos and set them on the table in front of her: the first was Conor Gorman, the second was Jesse Coombes.

‘Ooh,’ said Eleanor.

Define that reaction...

‘What do you want to know?’ said Eleanor.

‘Well, anything you might know about either of these boys,’ said Ren.

Eleanor pointed to Jesse. ‘He’s done some work in the library, just in the last couple of weeks, seems like a nice, respectful young man.’

I bet he does.

‘And I’m not familiar with the other young man,’ said Eleanor.

‘OK,’ said Ren.

Eleanor waited a while before she spoke. ‘There’s something else. Something small. Well, I guess that’s for you to decide...’

Ren nodded.

‘There was a girl who came here from the ranch,’ said Eleanor. ‘She’s gone now, this happened back before Christmas — she said that one of the boys over there was very dark, he read dark books, wore skull rings...’

So far, sounds like my boyfriend...

‘I know lots of teenagers are like that,’ said Eleanor, ‘and I think this girl was a little princess type, so it probably seemed more dramatic to her. She said he showed her a bone one night and told her it was a real finger bone, that kind of thing. He gave her the creeps, but nothing more came of it.’ Eleanor looked at the photos again. ‘It may have been one of these boys, it may not, but I thought I’d let you know. There could be twenty more boys like that over there, it wouldn’t be a great leap.’

‘A bone?’ said Ren. ‘Could that have had anything to do with the cemetery?’

‘No,’ said Eleanor. ‘I asked Detective Kohler had any of the ground been disturbed and he said no, thank God. You heard the cemetery was tidied...’

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘Do you have any idea who did that?’

‘No — certainly it wasn’t any of the ladies of the abbey. And we really tried to keep that cemetery a secret from the kids. I don’t know why graves are such a draw to them. They’re the ones with their whole lives ahead of them — death should be the furthest thing from their minds. Not that we expected tidying to be part of what they might do there...’

‘I’d like to get a copy of the map of the abbey, if that’s OK,’ said Ren.

‘That’s not a problem,’ said Eleanor. She got up and went to a drawer underneath a table by the window.

Ren looked down at the photo of Jesse Coombes and thought about his journal, the fixations, the inability to bury his past.

Is that what happens when you’re bombarded with religion from such an early age?

Jesse Coombes’ first obsession was The Lord, so when his parents plucked him out of that world, it must have been a shock, he must have felt alone. And as soon as he went into the real world of high school, he had a new fixation — Dominic Fisher, an outcast, like himself. And maybe, when he was plucked out of his life again and sent to The Darned Heart, he found in Conor Gorman a similar soul.

Could he have developed a fixation on him? Could he have been desperate for Conor not to leave?