Rise: How a House Built a Family(28)

“Sit down,” I ordered. “Give me the phone and sit down.”

She held the phone out, straight-armed, and the second I took it she scurried around the car to sit in the driver’s seat. I didn’t linger over the idea that it was the first time she had ever listened to one of my suggestions.

“Hello? This is Cara.”

“He’s awake and speaking. Just thought you’d want to know.”

“Thank you.” I relaxed, more relieved than I would have thought I’d be. “What did he say?” I asked, hoping it was something to clear things up, to make them okay even though that wasn’t really possible.

The officer sighed, probably regretting his good-deed phone call. “He said he didn’t mean to wake up.” He gave me a few seconds, then continued. “He couldn’t tell us how much he took or which kinds. He had a real variety. Mostly prescribed, most not to him.”

“I’ll tell Ivana he’s awake,” I said, tipping sideways until I had to grab the hood of her car for support.

“What? Speak up.”

“Thank you.”

“There’s more, but it’s, well, I’m not sure what the hell it is.”

He hesitated for the space of at least three slow breaths, and I took the time to breathe deep until the dark edges cleared from my vision. “What did you find?” I whispered, imagining terrible things.

“Guy down the street from you said he practically beat down his door last night. They had talked once about lawn mowers but didn’t really know each other. Adam said he needed some paper, a pen, and a phone. He filled two whole notepads with scribbles and made some phone calls. The guy just left him to it and went back to bed, but when he saw the ambulance and blue lights at your place this morning figured he should report it and give us these pads of notes and things.”

I heard him suck in another breath and wondered how bad it had to be to upset a police officer. Then Hershey leaned against my leg and I remembered just how bad it could be.

“The guy said his cat was in the room, friendly kind of cat who likes everyone. But now this morning it’s terrified and hiding and they can’t get near it. Bunch of fur is missing from its back half. Guy is freaked out and doesn’t know what to think.” His voice was flat, as if he was trying to wipe the possibilities from his mind.

“I don’t know what any of this means,” I said. “He leaves messages for people, and he thinks they leave them back for him.”

“Jesus. Like alien people or what?”

“Regular people. Businesspeople. But I need to give Ivana an update. Did he—is there anything else?”

“Nah. That’s enough, isn’t it? Jesus. Poor damn cat … Tell Ivana I’ll see her at the hospital. We’ll need a statement about—I’ll call you for it later.”

I hung up and pulled the passenger-side door open. Ivana’s forehead was on the steering wheel. Her lips were moving.

“He’s okay. He woke up and they talked to him a little.”

“Come with me.” She wasn’t exactly pleading, but nearly so.

I wanted to comfort this lost mommy. I wanted to be there for her even though she had never been for me. But I had my own kids to comfort. “The kids, Ivana. I can’t leave Jada. I don’t have anyone—”

She waved her hand, dismissing me, and pressed her head back against the headrest. With a breath so deep it should have popped her lungs, she became fully herself. Shoulders back, chin up, steely. Yugoslavian royalty. She took her phone from my limp hand and waved it at me. I stood up as she started the car and barely had the door closed when she started rolling it back down the driveway.

I felt like a failure for not going with her. A betrayer.

Cold and emotionless though she might be, I felt sorry for Ivana. She could never escape his manic, creative genius or his depressive, crazed anger. And while I hoped she’d have better luck forcing him to get treatment, I knew she’d fold under his anger and taunting just like I did. He was no joy to live with. His sulky moods and short fuse made the average day tense and chaotic. Worse, his weeklong silent treatments were a hellacious torture. His narrow-eyed glare reminded you by the minute that you had displeased him in some way you would never be privy to.

Something had to give, though, and it would have to be my connection to Adam. He was too dangerous. It might have been my life the voices told him to end, or the kids’, or even the whole house gone up in flames. He had tipped clean over the edge into a dark pit of madness, and I had no confidence that he could climb out.

After Jada was settled with cartoons and the older kids were off to school, I discovered that my laptop had been split open and gutted. No more hard drive. My assignments, the book I’d started writing, and hundreds of photos were gone. He’d probably tossed them in a ditch or lit them on fire, whatever the voices demanded to keep the people in the trucks from getting them.

Jada helped me bake cookies, chocolate chip because they were my favorite and I needed the calories to face down the stress.

By late afternoon my mom called. As a mental-health therapist, she had been allowed to see Adam on her lunch hour.

“You’ve got a decision to make,” she said. “He told me some things and there’s a lot more going on than you or I imagined. He needs to go to the state hospital. I called and got a bed for him, but he won’t go voluntarily. Either you sign to have him committed, or the hospital will have to release him.”