Free Crashing Down by Kate McCaffrey Page B

did you always get away with it? The Catholics swallowed it whole, didn’t they? Pray to you and all. Even though you’re no more than a garden-variety slut.’ He looks pretty pleased with this logic.
    â€˜Oh, mio dio — my Carlo, my good boy. He’s like a devil,’ Mrs K wails.
    â€˜I’ll get someone,’ Mr K says, running out of the room.
    â€˜What for?’ Carl shouts after him. ‘An exorcism? Fuck!’ He looks at Lucy with panic in his eyes. ‘Don’t let them touch me,’ he whispers.
    â€˜Carl.’ She wants to touch his hand but is frightened of him. ‘They’re trying to help you.’
    The doctor strides into Carl’s room and takes the chart from its holder. ‘Hey Carl, how are you?’
    â€˜I don’t like your smile. You look like a rat,’ Carl says, turning away.
    The doctor pulls a torch out of his pocket — it’s a little like a pen — and points it in Carl’s eyes.
    â€˜Hey!’ Carl shouts so violently that Lucy jumps. ‘You trying to blind me?’ The next minute Carl pulls a rolled-up newspaper from under the sheets and, limited by the restraints, awkwardly wields it in front of him. The torch flies across the room and hits the wall with a shattering noise.
    â€˜Hey,’ the doctor says, putting his hands up in surrender, ‘steady on. Just want to test a few things.’
    â€˜Like what?’ Carl snarls, letting the doctor get closer, then hits him hard with the paper. The doctor tries to cover his face, but Carl gets in a few blows. If it wasn’t so terrifying, it would be laughable, Lucy thinks.
    Orderlies in dark blue arrive.
    â€˜Soldiers!’ Carl shouts, thrashing wildly.
    One grabs him from the other side, as the doctor jabs him with a needle.
    â€˜Poison!’ Carl screams and then relaxes back against the bed.
    Mrs K sobs loudly. The doctor looks at her. ‘It’s okay,’ he says reassuringly. ‘This is quite normal.’
    Normal?
Lucy thinks. How is any of this normal?
    Carl sleeps for a while, and they sit in silence. He is perfectly still but for the rise and fall of his chest.
    â€˜He’s a lot calmer now,’ Mr K says weakly.
    Lucy nods, still reeling from the shock of it all. ‘Yeah, nothing a dose of muscle relaxant can’t fix.’
    Her mum lifts an eyebrow at her.
    Mr K laughs lightly, but the laughter sounds forced.
    There is a knock at the door: Carl’s Aunty Adele. Lucy smiles at her.
    â€˜Hi,’ Aunty Adele says. ‘How is he? Mama wants to come, but after what you say about the aggression, I tell her to wait. I see him first?’ She embraces her sister. ‘How are you?’
    â€˜Surviving.’ Mrs K teeters on the edge of tears. ‘So much not like my Carlo.’
    â€˜He needs a good wash,’ Adele says, looking at him and wrinkling her nose.
    â€˜They bathe him in bed,’ Mrs K says, ‘while he is sleeping. Now, when he’s awakened they can put him in the shower.’
    Carl stirs. ‘Hey,’ he says, trying to lift himself up. ‘Where am I?’
    Adele rushes to Carl’s side and puts her hand on his. ‘How are you?’
    He watches her guardedly. ‘Okay.’ He frowns, looking at her hand on his.
    â€˜Do you know who I am, Carl?’ Adele asks sadly.
    Carl shifts uncomfortably. Looks at Lucy. Looks at his mother. Looks back at Adele. ‘Yeah,’ he says slowly, ‘I think I do. You might be my sister. But …’ — he pauses, examining her face — ‘I’m not sure if you’re the older one or the younger one.’
    â€˜Carlo!’ Mrs K grasps her hands together, as if in prayer. ‘You have no sister. She is your zia. Carlo, you don’t remember your zia?’
    Carl looks at his mother. In front of Lucy’s eyes, he seems to turn greyer. ‘Are you my mum? Youcould be. You remind me of her. Maybe a