Chapter 9
“Shit!” She yelled. “Shit! Shit!” She went to her bedroom window and tore open the long, yellow curtains. She looked out the window at the late fall afternoon. She couldn’t think of what to do. Two steps to her bedside, fists clenched, back to the window. “Shit!” she yelled again. Her pulse was frantic and her breathing came in rapid, choking sobs. The bedroom door opened and her mother poked her head into the room.
“What’s all the swearing about?” she said.
“MOM!!!” Mia ran to her mother and nearly knocked her off her feet as she embraced her. “God, I've missed you!” She fell into her arms, crying in near hysterics. Her mother wasn’t quite ready for the outburst, this sort of behavior being very unlike Mia. Lori had no idea what was bothering her daughter, especially the 'I've missed you' statement. She led Mia back into the room to the edge of the bed and closed the door. Mia cried in rapid sobs and clutched her mother.
Her mother waited until the tears had slowed to speak. "What's wrong, dear?"
Mia looked up through swollen eyes. "I was in Awlland, with Finn...Finn..." She sobbed a few times. "This wizard. And a fairy named Belemeriath. I, I was at this place where they train wizards, 'cause I am one."
"Oh, love, you had a nightmare. Sometimes they're scary."
Mia pushed away. "No! No! I mean, I've been there for more than a month!"
Lori Murphy looked at her daughter and held her hand. "Is this something to do with school?"
"Mom! I was here, here in my room. I was doing my homework, and then went to this place! Haven't you noticed I've been away for a whole month?!"
"Sweetheart, I've seen you every day for the last month. What do you mean, you’ve been away for a whole month?"
Mia said nothing for a few seconds. "Mom, this was too real. I got hit in the head when I was attacked by these ugly trolls, and a fairy rescued me from their dungeon. I just spent a month...a MONTH...at a training place for wizards because I have to carry the Book of Life to be read every four hundred years. OOOHHHH!" Red faced, she struck her legs with her fists. Several times. She recalled that she'd been told time passes differently on Morrah than it did on Earth. "I...I don't know what happened." She bowed her head and kept it there. Her mother held her close. Right now she didn't want to be held.
Mia’s mother picked up on her desire to be left alone. She exited the room, closed the door behind her and went downstairs to tell her husband what had happened. He dismissed it as a bad dream, in light of Lori's insistence that she thought something might be wrong with their child. He claimed that it was some teenager thing. When dinner was close to ready, her mother broke her cardinal ‘mealtime is family time’ rule by allowing Mia to be excused. When Susan called later that evening, Mia declined the call. She stayed in her room all that evening and slept little that night. She refused to go to school the next day, even when her father threatened her. She spent most of the day curled up in her bed with the covers drawn up tight.
That afternoon, the windy weather brought light snow. Susan called to see how her friend was doing. Mia did want to talk to her badly, and Susan would understand. She took the call on the phone in her room.
"Mia, girlfriend! I missed you today! Are you sick or what?"
"Susan! You're not gonna believe what's happened to me!"
"I believe everything you say. It's not like you're a liar or anything!"
"Uh...Susie,” Mia said. "I went somewhere. To another world. So much happened!"
"Oookay! I know it's not drugs. What do you mean, another world?"
"Another world!" she exclaimed. "Susie, can you come over? I need to talk to you."
Susan was there in two minutes. They sat at the edge of Mia's bed as Susan, being her ever patient self, listened to Mia recount her adventures to the best of her abilities.
"So there’s this sorceress who’s out to get you and this wizard."
"No! Eringaff...that's the sorceress...wants to get the Book of Life, and I've got it!"
"Okay," Susan took a deep breath. "And you can start fires and things with magic."
"Yes."
"Can you do it now?"
"No. I already tried. Saa doesn’t work here."
"Who?"
By the end of the evening Susan had convinced Mia to say nothing about what happened to anyone. Mia knew that Susan, her best friend since before kindergarten, had always thought her stable, not one to make up stories, not even little ones. Now Susie sounded like she thought Mia was going crazy, really crazy. Mia promised her she would go to school the next day, as long as she could walk with her. She didn't have to ask; they walked to school together every day.
The next day on the way to school Mia said little other than a few attempts to get Susan to verify that she didn't think she was insane, to which she was given evasive answers. All day she could think of nothing but Morrah, the excitement it offered, her duty there. Now that she had finally made it home, she found that she didn't want to stay there. Her sense of responsibility to Morrah was overwhelming. She thought of Finnegaff and Marigaff, Belemeriath and Aaramerielle. What would they do without her? Who would read the Book of Life? She drew a map of Morrah in English class, Ms. Langdon's class. Ms. Langdon took it away from her. The sensitive teacher did so subtly; she'd noticed Mia's dark mood, believed something might be amiss, and made a mental note to keep an eye on her.
The next day during lunch, Ms. Langdon was sitting on a bench at the edges of the school ground reading a book entitled 'The Troubled Teenager'. She was always reading books of similar genre. Mia was strolling about some nearby trees and hadn't seen the teacher.
I wonder, Mia thought. She looked at the trunks of the trees for the design of a face. Clutching the hairbrush that had accompanied her to Morrah (she kept it with her always), she stepped back from the tree and stared into the towering branches.
"Tree!" she yelled. "If you can hear me, do this with your branches." She held her arms above her head, bent to the left and held that pose for perhaps fifteen seconds. She gave up and dropped her arms to her side.
"Tree! I know you can hear me!" She looked at the bark. No faces. She stepped toward the tree and kicked it hard, toe first. She stood there for a moment as if nothing had happened, then limped away.
Ms. Langdon hadn't taken her eyes from Mia the whole time. She knew Mia somewhat, knew that this sort of behavior exhibited by other children might not be concerning. For Mia, however, it was way out of character. On a hunch, she had kept the map she'd taken from Mia. She went to her classroom to retrieve it. She approached the school counselor and told her the story. The counselor asked Mia's other teachers to observe her. Of five of them, two had already noticed something different about her. The weekend passed. By Wednesday, all five teachers had noted remarkable changes in Mia. That afternoon she found herself in the counselor's office with Ms. Langdon and the map of Morrah she’d drawn. She was unwilling to confess anything about the map or of Morrah for fear they would think she was nuts. Thursday morning found Lori Murphy in conference with the same counselor, accompanied by the concerned Ms. Langdon.
Mia's mother confirmed the same withdrawn behavior at home that Mia had exhibited at school. She would come home from school and lock herself in her room. Mia kept any conversation Lori attempted to have with her minimal. She ate little and stopped showering, for the most part, until forced. She was a regular space cadet: she left the house without her jacket one fifteen-degree morning; she'd tie just one shoe. When Lori Murphy would remind her about the other shoe, she would shrug it off, then tie it in a sloppy manner. One evening, her younger brother had heard her talking out loud in her room. He alerted his mother, who heard the same: Mia was talking in another language, or trying to. Mia didn’t speak a second language, and it wasn't a language that Lori recognized. She referred to it as 'speaking in tongues'. She refused to do her homework, quietly, not in any rebellious form, but more out of a lack of interest. Not that she was all that interested befor
e, but at least she would do it. The counselor reported that her teachers were collectively observing the same inattention, some describing it as listlessness. Mia would sometimes be seen staring off into space without blinking. Not that she was like that all the time, but certainly much of it.
When asked if anything besides Mia's unusual behavior was different at home, Lori Murphy assured them that things were as usual. Lori remarked on the evening's events following Mia's dream, and tagged it as the turning point from the 'old Mia' to the Mia she had become. She expressed guilt: 'where did we go wrong?' 'What happened to my little girl?' Mia's father labeled it as a phase their daughter was going through, which was his usual means of parenting. The counselor recommended that they seek treatment from a better qualified source. She had a referral for them, a psychiatrist she'd known for years that specialized in adolescents.
Dr. Beverly Woodrow saw Mia that Friday evening. She introduced herself, then led Mia to her office. Dr. Bev, as she preferred to be called, dressed casually. She wore blue jeans with a tee shirt. Mia thought her nice on first impression. She was cool, too, because she wasn't wearing some suit thing. They visited for a short while before Dr. Bev made her move.
"So, Mia. What's going on?"
Mia clammed up. She visibly tightened the grip she had on her hairbrush. Dr. Bev waited patiently.
"Did you know that whatever we talk about is just between you and me?" She waited a little more. She was about to ask Mia about her social life.
"I...something happened to me." Mia glanced at the closed door, then looked up at Dr. Bev, who sat back, ready to listen. "I had this, well, dream. And it seemed so real."
"Sometimes they do."
"No, I mean real real. Where I was in this dream, I was there for more than a month. A whole month! And no time passed while I was gone."
"What was the dream about?"
"If it was a dream. I don't think it was.” She looked at the doctor in quick glances. "I was in this place, a world called Morrah. When I got there, this Tree told me to go west, and I did. I thought it was a dream at first, too. I tried to wake myself up." Mia spent some time telling the trustworthy Dr. Bev all about her time in Awlland. Mia told of most of what she could remember. When she was done, she asked Dr. Bev if she believed her.
Dr. Bev assured Mia that it wasn't important whether she believe her or not, so to take a break, they talked of other things. Things in school. Things at home. Things with her friends. Mia really did like this lady. She seemed to understand, if not sympathize.
After the session, Dr. Bev assured Lori that she believed Mia to be no present danger to herself or others, but would like to see her the following Tuesday. They parted with a warm hug.
Monday was the worst day Mia had since her trans location from Morrah. She was in school, in a math class at the end of the day and was nearly falling asleep. As she drifted toward sleep, she thought she felt like she had right before she trans located to Awlland. When she woke herself up, she'd expected to see Finnegaff or someone or something from Morrah. Yet she saw only the classroom. It was too much for her. She stood and yelled at the top of her lungs that she wanted to 'go back', then crumpled to the floor and broke into tears. The teacher escorted her from the class to the counselor's office, where she was detained for a short while until her mother could get there. Lori felt her heart sink when she arrived at the school, for she beheld the face of the girl who was her first born in only distant recognition. She was very scared. She called her husband, insistent that she take Mia to Dr. Bev's office a day early.
Dr. Bev was in an appointment when they arrived. She saw them as soon as the appointment was over. She talked with Mia, then with Lori. She told Lori she suspected schizophrenia, but it was a little early to know for sure, and that she would like to conduct a few tests. She said that if it was schizophrenia, there were a host of excellent medications available. That boosted Lori's attitude a little. She then learned that the condition might be life long, would likely get much worse, and would require medications for life. This slung her hopes in the other direction. Dr. Bev also telephoned her friend, the counselor at the high school, with whom she'd worked with for quite a few years. She then spoke with Mia and Lori.
"I think there may be something to this and I'm recommending in-patient observation," she said. Mia knew what this meant.
"No! No! I, I can't! My friends will..." Mia knew she wasn't going to talk her way out of it. Not after what happened in school earlier that day. They made arrangements to meet at a local hospital that supported a psychiatric observation unit located a few blocks away, where they would admit Mia. Dr. Bev met them there and saw them through the admissions process.
Dr. Bev met with Mia in private in Mia's hospital room for her last appointment of the day, even though she had been scheduled to leave an hour earlier. "It's not that you're bad," she said. "It's more like you're sick. Our bodies get sick and we have to take medication to fix what's the matter with them. Sometimes it's the same with our heads."
Mia already knew this. She sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling, still in street clothes, and fidgeted with her hairbrush. The doctor went on: "There's a few things I want you to do for me. First..." Mia blocked out the doctor's voice to the point of utter silence, yet not intentionally. She felt numb, distant. No thought, no feeling, no connection.