R J Hembree - Writers' Village University

was there?
“You can’t live a normal life without them.”
Jake straightened and looked directly into her eyes. “What’s normal? Why do
I have to be like everyone else? Do you want me to find a job where I sit in a cubicle
all day and move memos from one side of my desk to another and wait for the next
meeting?” He paused and clasped his hands together like he was trying to quell
the tremors. “I’m a poet. I need to be allowed to live my own life. The medication
cuts me off from who I am. I can’t live that way.”
“The medication let you finish college and write your book. You would have
never been able to do that without it.” She remembered the pride she felt when he’d
told her about the book contract. She’d felt like a champagne glass overflowing
with bubbles and sweet wine. All she’d ever wanted in life was for her son to
succeed and be happy—wasn’t that all any parent could ask for? Now, all she felt
was the twist of guilt and the throb of frustration and fear.
He looked away from her, his body stiff. “Those were all poems I wrote before
I started the meds. I just finished the work I’d begun before I started taking them. I
can’t write more if I stay on them.”
She felt like a traitor. “You’ll keep getting in trouble if you don’t take them.”
The air felt dense like it held their mutual frustration suspended in its heavy
pall. “Why won’t you help me? You let the police take me. Why did you do that?”
Guilt pressed down on her. Miriam looked at the gray walls and straightened.
“Because you’re an adult. If I keep rescuing you from your own choices, then you
will never be responsible for yourself.”
He stood up. “Then let me make my own choices. I choose to stay off meds. I
hate them.” He swayed a bit.
Her body sagged. “But what will happen to you?”
“Nothing. I can handle it.” He bent, slow and stiff like an old man, and
retrieved the notebook and pen from the floor.
She’d had this exasperating conversation many times before. “Jake you can’t
handle it. Look what happened when you went off. You spent all of the money from
your book advance on friends and partying. You got evicted from your apartment.
You have no credit and you lost your car. Is that handling it?”
He placed the notebook and pen on the table. “That won’t happen again. I
won’t let it.”
Miriam steeled herself. “I don’t agree with you.”
Jake sat back down and held the pen in his shaking hand. “Will you sign me
out of here?”
She tried to swallow. Dry-mouthed, her throat constricted like she would
choke. How can I leave him in this place? She knew she could sign him out. He
knew it too. Sweat formed on her palms. I promised myself that I would stop
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