21. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
The sound of raindrops woke Roger from his drowsy sleep.
He opened his eyes and observed the unfamiliar room, only to learn it wasn’t raining.
He looked to the right of him, seeing a bucket in the corner, collecting the dripping water from a leaky pipe above.
The room was dark and emitted a distinct odor, a blend of musk and mildew.
He blinked, his eyes drifting over the cream-colored walls where peeling paint revealed blotchy brown patches beneath.
The bed beneath him was firm, its surface cool against his skin. He attempted to lift his arms to remove the itchy sheets, only to discover his hands were bound by chains to the bed rails. His midsection was strapped down by a leather contraption.
A wave of grogginess washed over him, and he winced as he attempted to sit up.
His body protested, limbs heavy and sluggish.
The room swayed as he swiveled his gaze around, taking in the sterile environment.
The memory of how he arrived in this place lingered at the edges of his consciousness, elusive and fragmented.
His head throbbed. He couldn’t observe himself in a mirror, but the pulsing suggested a large lump was there.
His vision moved in and out as his headache increased.
The room was similar to that of a hospital, but he couldn’t remember how and why he arrived at the place.
However, this place didn’t seem much like a hospital.
Roger felt like a prisoner in the room with his body bound against his will.
It reminded him of the time he and Ian had succumbed to measles and his mother had strictly bound them so they wouldn’t scratch.
However, that was motherly love, and Ian wasn’t here with him.
Roger attempted again to break free; nothing budged. His legs were chained at the end of the bed, too. What kind of a hospital would do this?
As Roger laid still, his memories flooded back. Margaret. He had driven her home. Those sweet eyes wore a look of innocence. He peered into them, and she had brought her lips to his. The memory melted the iciness from the room’s cold temperature.
He had left her afterward, and excitement had pulsed through his veins thinking about working with her the next morning, but he hadn’t gone to work. He would have remembered that. He would have remembered anything with Margaret.
Roger winced as his memories returned. They were a blur at first, remembering bright headlights and pulling over to the side of the road.
Roger remembered examining an abandoned car.
There hadn’t been a soul in sight. That was until someone struck him in the back of the head.
He had fought back, blow after blow, and prevailed, holding the man down and pinning him against the car.
But another stranger had come. Roger remembered his skull being hit. He lost consciousness within seconds.
That had been at night, and it was daylight now. Or perhaps another day. How long had he been asleep?
“Hello?” he called. “Hello?”
Margaret was constantly on his mind. What had become of her? Was she all right? Was she here? What must she think of him now being strapped like this? Did she know he was here?
Roger tried to break free of the chains, but he failed. The cool iron rubbed against his wrists, creating a burning sensation, yet the pain was bearable. Thinking of breaking out of this place and returning to his beloved was what kept him sane.
The door creaked open, revealing a man in his near-forties. He wore a white lab coat with a stethoscope draped over his shoulders.
“A-Are you the doctor?” Roger asked, trying to sit up.
The man straightened his posture and retrieved the clipboard from the table next to Roger’s bed. “Nice to see you have awoken, Mr. McKinley.”
Roger tried to lift himself again but failed.
“Whoa, whoa now,” the doctor protested, pressing him down. “I wouldn’t fight against it if I were you.”
“Why am I strapped down?” A wave of frustration ran through him. What was he, some kind of animal? “I demand to be free at once.”
The doctor started writing on his clipboard, shaking his hand as he chuckled. “I see you have a lot to catch up on.”
“Where am I?” Roger demanded.
“Eastern State Hospital of Williamsburg,” the doctor answered. “You have been sedated for hours, so I understand this is quite new information.”
Roger’s anger boiled, his fists curling around the chains.
Out of all the places, he was put into the looney bin.
This was a mistake. He wanted to leave this place and return to Richmond to be with Margaret.
They were starting a new beginning, and he wanted to build a life with her.
He didn’t have time to be pinned up like this.
“Why am I here? I’m not crazy.”
The doctor chuckled again, harder. He shook his head and continued to write on his clipboard. “You’re not the first one to say that today.”
The door opened again, and in came two nurses.
“I’m not crazy!” Roger screamed, his nostrils flaring. He attempted to break through the chains again, but this time even harder. The chains rubbed until his skin was raw. “I need to get out of here! I need to go to work! I need to see Margaret!”
The doctor pointed to the nurses, signaling them.
“That all depends on your progress, Mr. McKinley,” he said with a smirk. “But first, you must rest. You have a busy day of treatments tomorrow.”
Roger struggled against the chains, screaming at the top of his lungs.
His upper body moved up and down, trying to fight the restraints, but a nurse pushed him back.
Roger tried to fight against her, but before he could, a sharp needle was plunged into his neck.
Within seconds, he lost consciousness, dreaming of the woman whom he longed to escape to.
Margaret swung back and forth on the garden swing, taking steady breaths.
She had been there nearly all afternoon, and now the sun was setting.
Her father had gone to the office that morning, not bothering to ask Margaret if she’d like to join him.
Margaret was grateful, for she didn’t know how she could react to an empty office without Roger.
Two weeks ago, she would have been relieved, but now she felt great displeasure.
While she had her freedom, Roger was locked away.
It was something she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy.
Now that he was gone, she was trapped by darkness and fear.
Roger helped her heal, and she returned the favor.
They were better together, but now Margaret would never see him again.
She’d never feel the brush of his skin against hers, never see that smile she had gotten used to, and never feel his lips on hers.
She knew deep inside that it would be their last kiss, and she should have listened.
Margaret wished she could have kissed him one more time, to savor it. She wished to have told him how she felt. She let him go too easily, and now she was plagued by painful regrets that consumed her soul with anguish.
Margaret cried so many tears that none remained, but the pain persisted.
Her lips tasted salty from the many tears that had fallen, leaving a trail of her sorrow.
Nevertheless, she kept swinging and letting the sun’s rays touch her skin.
The brisk wind had turned warmer, yet Margaret’s heart remained cold.
An engine sounded from the front of the home, giving Margaret a moment of distraction she had longed for. She welcomed any distraction as a blessing. If only it took her mind off Roger.
Nonetheless, Margaret kept swinging. She didn’t have a desire to be near anyone, not even her sisters.
If they’d tried to give her hope like her mother did, she’d lash out at them, making them suffer with her, and it wasn’t fair.
No one should take on Margaret’s pain. Her mother’s expression surfaced in her mind.
Margaret was consumed with guilt for the way she spoke to her mother, but she needed to stand her ground.
For five years, Margaret had stepped back, letting time slip by.
And now, she was going to take control of the present.
She was going to take responsibility.
Margaret stopped swinging and turned. She kept turning until the ropes had been twisted.
Then she let go. The swing spun her round and round as it untangled.
Margaret had done this time and again while she was a child until she was too dizzy to stand.
But this was relaxing. It took her back to a time of innocence—a time when her only duty was to be a kid.
As the world became a blur, she noticed a person walking towards her. Margaret immediately placed her feet on the ground, allowing the spinning to stop. Her head throbbed from the dizziness, but she was able to recognize the approaching figure. Before her eyes was none other than Eugene Ashcroft.
“Eugene,” she gasped. She immediately stood from the swing, her mind dizzy, but she pushed through, retrieving her shoes and stockings.
“Forgive me,” Eugene apologized, looking away. He cleared his throat as Margaret put her shoes on.
Margaret’s cheeks flushed hot. It wasn’t the time or place for her to see the man, especially in this state. Her eyes were no doubt puffy, and her cheeks were stained with tears.
“I should have sent word,” Eugene said. He carried a bouquet of white and pink roses and handed them to her. Margaret took them with open arms after adjusting her right shoe.
“They are beautiful.”
“I didn’t know your favorite flower, but I assumed roses would be to your liking.”
Margaret brought the flowers close to her face, breathing in their fragrance. The flowers weren’t sweet-smelling like the wildflowers at home. They smelled more like a musky funeral home, yet Margaret managed to fake a smile. Stop thinking of Roger. You must do your duty. This is to save him.
“Thank you, Eugene.”
“Would you care to take a stroll? The river walk again?”