Chapter 5
“I CAN’T BELIEVE JILL DIDN’T get the top of the pyramid,” Kaya said. She and Graham were sitting on the bleachers, watching the cheerleading team practice. It had been two weeks since the accident, and Kaya had her crutches wedged into the space beside her. “She doesn’t look very happy.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Graham agreed. “She probably assumed the spot was hers when it opened. Maybe Miss Green had other ideas.”
“Bailey’s much better than Jill,” Kaya said. “It makes sense.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but she held it back.
Graham could tell that Kaya was trying hard. “So how is it going with the side effects?” he asked. “Are you still feeling lightheaded?”
Kaya shook her head. “No, not anymore. I’m sleeping better. The doctor said that most of the side effects would wear off in a few weeks. My mouth is still dry, though.” She touched her tongue to her lips as if to demonstrate.
Graham nodded. “Do you think they’re helping at all?”
Kaya shrugged. “Who knows? Sometimes I went weeks without anything weird happening anyway before I started them. The jury’s still out on if the meds are doing anything.” She sighed. “I hate being on meds. I feel like I’m really crazy.” She looked at her feet. “Graham, do you think I’m crazy? Please, be honest with me. Don’t hold back.”
Graham had to think for a few moments before answering. Kaya deserved to hear the truth from him. “No,” he said firmly. “No. I don’t think you’re crazy, but I also don’t know what crazy is. When I think of crazy, I think of old Aunt Connie, and how she used to talk so much about nothing, and then interrupt people when they were talking, starting new conversations. Remember those ridiculous outfits she used to wear? But that’s just what comes up in my mind. Aunt Connie wasn’t mentally ill. She was eccentric. She just had a way about her that could be a little bit much. Mental illness can mean a lot of things. People can be depressed, or manic, or hear voices, or have visual hallucinations. And you, well, I did a lot of research when this all first started happening. You don’t really fit the criteria for any mental illness. You have one symptom. The voices. Mom was a bit concerned about how upset you got after your fall, and she thought you might be getting paranoid, but I think you were just really shaken up. I don’t think you’re paranoid. What diagnosis did the doctor give you?”
“Auditory hallucinations,” Kaya said, as if reading it from a script in her head.
“That’s weird,” Graham said. “That’s a symptom, not a diagnosis.”
“Really?” Kaya asked. “Huh. Well, he asked me all sorts of questions, like if I knew what year it was, and what day, and who the president was. He asked me if I thought people on the TV or radio were talking directly to me, even though they couldn’t see me. He asked if I ever went a long time without sleeping, and felt like I didn’t need to sleep, or if I felt really powerful, like I could do things other people couldn’t do. There were more questions, but I can’t remember them. All of my answers were no.”
“Yeah,” Graham said. “I have to do more research. I can skip intro to psychology class in college since I took AP Psych in high school. I know most schools offer an Abnormal Psych class. I’ll take it if I can.”
“Abnormal,” Kaya repeated softly. She looked up and watched her teammates practice without her. She started to move her head to the music, and Graham could see her mouth words to the cheers, tapping her good foot.
“You’ll be back out there in a few weeks.”
“I know,” Kaya said. “But by then, there’ll only be one game left in the season. I’m missing so much.” She sighed. “I guess that’s what I get for throwing myself off of the pyramid during a psychotic episode, huh?”
Graham felt a wave of anxiety flow through his gut. “Kaya, cut it out,” he said. “No one thinks you did it on purpose. We’ve told you that. Even if the threat wasn’t real, it felt real for you. It all felt real.”
“Still not convinced,” Kaya mumbled.
Graham faced her. “What?”
Kaya continued to watch the cheerleaders. “Nothing.”
“No,” Graham said. “You think that the voices are real.”
Kaya nodded. “I do,” she said. “I think that, somehow, I’m hearing things that others can’t hear, but they’re thoughts or something.”
“You think you can read thoughts?” Graham asked.
Kaya shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just know that I’m not crazy. I’m not.”
Graham nodded. “Okay,” he said. “So if you can read minds, what number am I thinking of right now?”
Kaya squirmed in her seat. “I don’t know,” she said. “I can’t hear your thoughts.”
“Concentrate,” Graham told her. “If you can hear thoughts, you could be able to read mine. I can’t see why they’d be selective.”
Kaya closed her eyes. Then she opened them. Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t hear anything.”
Graham nodded. He thought maybe he’d pushed her too hard. Maybe it had been a bad idea to challenge her thoughts. He watched the practice in silence for a few minutes. Then he turned back to Kaya. “I wonder where Dad is right now.”
Kaya stared at him. “Dad?” she asked. “Huh. That’s a weird thought. I don’t know. I don’t really think about him that much.”
Graham’s eyes went wide. “You don’t? That surprises me. I think about him all the time.”
Kaya shrugged. “I don’t let myself think about him, I guess,” she said. “It would probably drive me crazy if I did. I guess he needed something else in his life. I don’t know what. But I’d rather he left than stay at home and be unhappy all the time, making everyone else miserable. He did what he had to do. It’s hard to be angry at him. I mean, I do miss him, when I let myself.” She paused. “Maybe that’s more often than I’m willing to admit.”
She started to fuss with the padding on the top of her crutch.
Graham thought about it. “But it’s really hard on Mom. She hasn’t even had any time to process anything. She’s so busy just trying to keep us all afloat. I wish she could take some time to herself.”
Kaya bit her lower lip, making Graham wonder if that gesture was genetic. “I think Mom keeps herself busy so she doesn’t have to think.”
“Maybe,” Graham said. He looked down at the basketball court. The girls were wrapping up their practice. He suddenly noticed someone looking at him. It was Bailey. She smiled and then waved. Graham gave a small wave back and then turned to look at Kaya.
“I guess. I think all of us are dealing with his leaving differently. Mom’s worrying and staying busy, I’m focusing on you and my schoolwork, and you . . .”
“What about me?” Kaya said, challenging him. “What is it I’m doing, Graham? Manufacturing voices in my head because Dad left us to find himself?”
Graham shrugged. “It has occurred to me,” he said. “It all started soon after he left, right? I know you said that you try not to think about it, but you and Dad have always been close, closer than I ever was with him. You did a lot of stuff together. When you decided to go out for cheerleading, he was the one who went out and bought you the practice pompoms and the cheering DVDs. He encouraged you. He was happy for you. You’ve always looked up to him. You can’t tell me that him leaving wasn’t a big loss for you.”
Kaya shook her head. “Are you trying to make me cry? Graham, whatever’s going on with me, it has nothing to do with Dad. The timing’s just a coincidence. Maybe it’s about cheerleading. I started cheering camp right before he left.” She reached out and touched Graham’s hand. “I’m not ignoring how horrible it is that Dad left,” she said. “It’s awful. Like I said, I do miss him. I’m just not mad at him. I know he’ll be back someday. I don’t think things will ever be the same. But he said he was looking for something. Maybe he’ll find it. And if he doesn’t, maybe he’ll realize that it’s just not out there. I have no doubt that if I get married someday, Dad will be there to walk me down the aisle.”
Graham was amazed by his sister’s thought process. He did have to admit, her ideas were very lucid. She did not seem like a girl who was dealing with her father’s leaving in a dysfunctional way. She seemed more emotionally healthy than him and their mother in the whole matter. That actually concerned him more than if it wasn’t true. If her voices had been caused by stress, there would be more of a chance that they would resolve, either over time on their own, or with the help of a good therapist. But if they were caused by a chronic illness, she would most likely have to deal with the repercussions for the rest of her life. “When’s your MRI?”
Kaya sighed exaggeratedly. “Would you please stop obsessing about what caused my voices?” she begged. “Can’t we just move on to something else?”
“I’m just worried, that’s all,” Graham said. “I don’t think you have a brain tumor, of course, but it would be nice to hear it from a professional.”
Kaya’s face softened. “It’s next Thursday,” she said. “It’s in the morning. Mom said I can skip school that day. But by the end of the day, I will have irrefutable evidence that I do, indeed, have a brain.” She laughed. “No more jokes about having rocks in there.”
Graham had to smile. “Yeah. I guess I’ll have to come up with something else to tease you about!”
The next Thursday, Graham studied with Chet and their friend Chris at the school library after last period. Finals were coming up, and then school would be out for winter break. Graham had already sent out his college applications along with his SAT scores, but he still wanted to do well for the rest of the year. He wasn’t in contention for valedictorian, but he didn’t care—he didn’t want to have to give a speech anyway—but he did want a final grade point average he could be proud of. When he got home, his mother and Kaya were there. Kaya was watching TV and eating from a large bowl of popcorn. Mrs. Reed was at the dining room table, looking at a ledger book through her reading glasses. She looked up when Graham came in and smiled.
“Hi, Graham,” she said. “How was your day?”
Graham threw his backpack on a chair and took off his jacket.
“Uneventful,” he said. “Everyone’s just getting ready for exams and Christmas. How did the MRI go?”
Kaya looked up at Graham briefly and then looked back at the TV, stuffing popcorn into her mouth.
“It went fine,” Mrs. Reed said. “We went early in the day. Dr. Creston called this afternoon after viewing the results. Basically, most everything looked normal.”
She clicked the top of her pen over and over.
“There was some indication of a slight enlargement, like a bony protrusion, in the receptive language area of her brain that could be indicative of auditory hallucinations, but Kaya said she wasn’t hearing any voices at the time of the test. Dr. Creston said it was unusual, but not impossible. He said there’s no reason to be concerned. He’s going to study it more. He thinks it could be a genetic thing. You know, some sort of evolutionary thing that most people got rid of over the centuries but some people retained. It’s possible you and I could have it too. He really didn’t think we needed to worry. But for sure, there are no brain tumors.”
Kaya looked up again. “And no rocks.”
Graham smiled. Then his smile fell away as he looked at his mother. “So what do we do now?”
Mrs. Reed shrugged. “Kaya keeps taking the medication, and we watch her. We make sure there aren’t other incidents. And if there aren’t any, we know that the meds are working. If there are, we try a different medication.”
Graham shook his head. “It’s like we’re shooting darts at the voices,” he said, “and hoping they stick where we want them.”
“That’s kind of what Dr. Creston said,” Mrs. Reed said. “He said that everyone’s brain chemistry is different, so we don’t have any definite idea of what will work. He said that if this ran in the family, we could look at what medications worked and what didn’t, but we don’t have that luxury. Not that I’m complaining.”
Graham nodded. “So are you gonna let Kaya continue with cheer?”
“I’m not quitting cheerleading,” Kaya said without lifting her gaze from the TV. “You can’t make me.”
Mrs. Reed closed her eyes and then opened them. “I’m not gonna stop her from having the life she wants,” she said. “No one at school knows about any of this. We’ll just keep it between the three of us, okay? It’s not that it’s anything to be ashamed of, but there is a stigma. I don’t want Kaya to have to deal with that at her age.”
“I agree,” Graham said. “So for now, we just go on like nothing’s happening.”
“Away from home,” Mrs. Reed corrected. “We’re not trying to convince ourselves that it’s not happening, Graham. We’re just not broadcasting it.”
“Okay,” Graham said. He walked into the kitchen and looked in the refrigerator. He stared at shelves full of food but found nothing he wanted. He closed the door and went to the fruit bowl on the counter. He grabbed an apple and took a big bite before sitting down at the kitchen table to chew.
So now they had some answers. Kaya didn’t have a brain tumor, and he was glad. But the answers they had were not satisfying. The only satisfying answers would have been some indicating an easy fix. A magic pill. A small, outpatient procedure that would put everything back to normal.
Normal. Nothing felt normal. He thought back to a year ago, to a night when all four of them—he, his father, his mother, and Kay—were sitting at the kitchen table together eating ice cream and laughing. It was Kaya’s birthday. They were having ice cream for lunch at her request. Their father was telling funny stories about Kaya when she was little. Kaya was blushing, but she also had a wide smile. She loved her father. She was his favorite. Graham didn’t resent their relationship. Sometimes he envied it, but he knew that he was closer to their mother. They seemed like the ideal family. Now so much had changed.
He wondered if there was something amiss in the universe that had caused so much to change in so little time.
A week later, Kaya was back at cheerleading, and Graham was back in the bleachers. He watched his sister as she stood in the periphery of the group, watching, trying to get back in the groove. Two of the other girls were trying to pull her back in, one of them showing her some new steps. After some time, Kaya started to warm up, both physically and mentally, and Graham saw her start to smile and laugh with her friends. But not everyone seemed happy that Kaya was back. Jill stood off to the side, her arms folded in front of her, frowning as she watched the other girls starting to have fun with Kaya. Graham watched her with interest. Even though he knew it was impossible that Jill had conveyed messages to Kaya telling her she was going to hurt her, it seemed evident that there was no love lost between the two girls.
As practice progressed, Miss Green had Kaya stand to the side, doing the simple steps and no jumps. She sat out of the pyramid all together. Just as she had always been, Jill was relegated to the middle level as Bailey climbed up and stood proudly atop her back. Kaya stood with Miss Green and watched. It was unclear if she would be returning to the pyramid after what had happened. She smiled up at Bailey, who smiled down at her and waved.
On the way home, Graham suggested they stop for ice cream at their favorite parlor, Pistachios. Kaya ordered a small hot fudge sundae, and Graham got a banana split.
“I saw you and Miss Green talking,” Graham said. “Anything special?”
Kaya smiled. “She told me that I’d been doing a really good job with dance ideas,” she said. “The team voted for Hannah for team captain next year, and she said she’d like me to assist her with coming up with some new steps for next year. Basic choreography. I’d love to do that. I can’t do a whole dance, but I can make suggestions.” She beamed. “Miss Green said that all the girls missed me when I was gone. She said I have great team spirit, and they really need someone like me around to help keep them motivated. Graham, I think that she thinks I can be captain one day! That would be so awesome! If I get to be captain, I might be able to get onto a cheer squad in college, especially with choreography experience.”
“That’s great, Ky!”
He was genuinely happy for her. It sounded like she was very popular on her team, and she had great potential. Not only that, but it appeared that no one suspected anything about her mental health issue. That would make things a lot easier for Kaya. If anyone on the team knew, they might plant doubt about her ability in the minds of the other girls. Graham ate his ice cream, still smiling.
“I hate that I’ll miss seeing you cheer when I go to college next year.”
Kaya gave him a sweet smile. “I’ll miss you, too, Graham,” she said. “It will really be different without you. And I’ll have three years in high school as the only Reed kid. I wish we were closer in age, so we could have more time together.”
Kaya’s words made Graham feel warm inside. He was looking forward to going to college, but he dreaded leaving his family. He didn’t want to leave them with so much going on. There were still several months before college would start in September. He would do everything he could to help to get things back to normal as much as he could. And if things couldn’t be normal, he would help his mother and sister define a new normal. When he finally went away to school, he wanted to know that he was leaving things in very good order.