Petey

“Long shadows fell across Petey’s twisted little face as the sun settled that first day on Infants’ Ward. Immediately, a pattern of monotony captured his existence, a pattern marked by two phases: daybreak and sunset. The metronome of life enveloped Petey with this pattern. In the outside world, life diffuse the cadence, but in this place there was no life. […] Nobody could read his thoughts, nor could they see the feelings Petey was developing and wanted so desperately to express. All they could see were his fleeting, flickering smiles. Failing to respond any further, his expressions were still dismissed as the shallow gestures of an idiot.”

Perceived to be so profoundly intellectually disabled that he is unable to form coherent thoughts, the only services Petey receives on Infants’ Ward are for his physical care. He receives neither nurturing nor enrichment—none of the prolonged social interactions a child his age outside of an institution might benefit from. Even at his young age, Petey senses the detachment others feel toward him and yearns for meaningful connections.

“The following day, Esteban failed to show up for work. Each time the charge nurse walked by his crib, Petey grunted and swung his arms wildly. Pleading with his eyes he jerked his head up and down, back and forth. But without Esteban, every subtle gesture that had become Petey’s language, his way of touching the world, was once again seen as the movements of an idiot.”

Petey’s short relationship with Esteban afforded him a glimpse of what life might be like if caregivers were to take the time to interact with him patiently and inquisitively instead of dismissing him based on their perceptions of his abilities. Without understanding the circumstances surrounding Esteban’s firing, Petey can only wonder about why his friend is absent from his company. Esteban’s involuntary departure marks the beginning of the losses Petey will experience over the course of his life.

“Dozens of patients were scattered about the room, their half-dressed bodies huddled against walls and beds. Most clung to their knees. Some gazed into nothingness or sat on chairs, heads drooped forward, totally unaware of the madhouse or even the flies crawling across their necks. Several stared out dirty windows, their gaze focused a million miles away from Ward 18 of the men’s main compound. In the dayroom at the far end of the ward, half a dozen patients sat around two large wooden tables playing cards of rolling cigarettes. Noise echoed from everywhere and nowhere.”

When Petey is transferred from Infants’ Ward, he is frightened and intimidated by the atmosphere of Ward 18. The only adults Petey is accustomed to are his caregivers; his fellow patients have all been children up to this point. On Ward 18, the sheer density of the population and the unpredictability of the behaviors of his fellow inhabitants create a much more hazardous and hopeless environment for someone as young and physically vulnerable as Petey.

“The attendants brought a nine-year-old boy over from the hospital in a wheelchair. They had discovered Calvin Anders, bruised and half-naked, abandoned on the front steps of the administration building during a snowstorm. He had been shivering and whimpering beside one of the large, marble pillars. Mildly retarded, with severe club feet, Calvin cowered from everyone.”

Mikaelsen does not depict the particulars of Calvin’s life before he comes to Warm Springs Insane Asylum. The conditions under which he is found outside the administration building serve to indicate that in the short nine years before he enters the narrative, Calvin has endured neglect and perhaps violence. Later in the novel, Calvin’s depression manifests as a withdrawal into himself and a rejection of even the most well-intended attempts to reach out to him. Calvin’s abandonment is the end of the first phase of his life and the beginning of the next.

“Petey jerked his chin up and down. His excitement went beyond the poison. Today he had successfully communicated a thought. He had broken through the invisible barrier guarding his mind.”

Petey’s ability to communicate with Calvin is based in both his own tenacity and Calvin’s determination to make the connection between them. Contrary to what is presumed about him, Calvin possesses the insight to ask the questions required to unlock Petey’s intended meanings. This first, rewarding bonding experience brings Petey hope and inaugurates the special bond the two will build over the course of their friendship.

“Suddenly, Petey drew in a deep breath, shooting a sharp pang into his chest. Then doing something he had never dared before, he forced air into his stiff, pinched throat. A siren squeal pierced the air. Grimacing, Petey thrashed his arms; hitting the wall and window moldings. Jolts of pain bit at his wrists, and black darkness drowned his vision. Still he flailed his arms.”

Petey is perpetually aware of the disconnect between the capabilities of his mind and his ability to influence his own body’s movements. When Calvin falls from his wheelchair and is knocked unconscious, Petey knows he must do whatever he can to advocate for the person who continuously does the same for him. In this moment, Petey pushes himself past the limitations that have confined him, unlocking strength and willpower he did not know he possessed.

“Joe smiled as he watched his young friends play. Had they not been crippled and confined to this asylum, they were old enough now to drive cars, date, play sports, and get jobs. An intense joy filled Joe as he watched Petey sit stationary in the middle of the room with Calvin lunging his wheelchair around in circles. Both teenagers clicked their throats furiously, arms swinging.”

Inside the closed world of Warm Springs, Petey and Calvin come of age under circumstances markedly different from boys outside the “asylum.” Denied the customary rites of passage and customary experiences for young men their age, they still demonstrate many of the characteristics typical of their age group. For Joe, it is a testament to their character that they can still find moments of happiness despite their surroundings.

“Again and again he told himself that the hands that cleaned him were not Cassies’ touch; they were from the person whose job it was to care for him. Cassie’s touch was the hand on his cheek, the warm smile that shortened his breath as she stroked his forehead. But try as he might, the thought haunted Petey: what did Cassie think of him as she cleaned his deformed, helpless body? He feared the answer.”

With the advent of Cassie’s arrival at Warm Springs, Petey has the opportunity to meet a young woman his own age and to feel the complex emotions associated with romantic attraction for the first time. Out of necessity, Petey has become accustomed to all his physical needs being met by nurses and attendants. With Cassie, there is a shift where Petey begins to consider his body as it might be perceived by someone whose opinion matters greatly to him, and this insecurity troubles him.

“Petey had lost his will to struggle against this woman he adored. Tears swelled in his eyes. As Cassie cried above him, Petey sensed a softness and vulnerability in her. He wanted to hold her, to protect and comfort her in his arms. He damned the forces that froze his body and kept him from reaching out to this woman who at this moment needed his touch, his embrace.”

Petey’s relationship with Cassie represents the closest he will come to a romantic connection. He has exerted extensive efforts to communicate with nurses and attendants over his years at Warm Springs, and when he finally develops this special relationship with Cassie, where he shares rich, social exchanges, he is unable to offer her the kind of comfort she needs in the moment when it matters most. Petey is otherwise very adaptable, but through his relationship with Cassie he experiences his most profound anger and resentment of his disability.

“That’s Petey Corbin. He’s an idiot retard, but a friendly one—you know, laughs and smiles a lot. Sometimes you swear he’s thinking, but it’s just conditioning. They used to get him up every day and put him in a wheelchair. Lucky for us, they stopped that.”

When Gus describes Petey to Owen with this dismissive characterization, Gus perpetuates the assessment and attitude toward Petey that has accompanied him for the four decades he has been at Warm Springs. The phrase “conditioning” is first uttered in reference to Petey when Esteban Garcia is told Petey was not responding intelligently to his offers of chocolate and indicates the treatment philosophies of the hospital have changed little in that time. Time having lapsed in the narrative, this quotation also informs the reader that Petey’s quality of life has deteriorated to the point he has been confined to bed for many years.

“With time, Owen learned Petey’s sounds and gestures and grew more fond of the deformed man. Calvin proved more difficult. His depression locked him in a lethargic apathy. Owen wondered what key could ever open Calvin’s closed world. Owen knew that blatant disobedience might cost him his job, but how else could he get Petey out of bed?”

A pattern of determination and independence in their approach to Petey and Calvin’s care is a commonality in all those individuals who make the most profoundly positive differences in the men’s lives. Owen follows his instincts in disregarding what he is told about Petey and Calvin and persists in his mission to affect as much positive change as he can.

“No, what Owen dreaded was his own loss. Petey had almost become family. Petey loved life more than any human Owen had ever met. Petey savored moments with fathomless appreciation. Simple joys and pleasures became splendid happenings. His compassion and thoughtfulness defied reason.”

Each person who makes a meaningful connection with Petey is changed by their time in his company. As he reflects on what he has learned over the course of their relationship, Owen’s assessment of Petey’s outlook mirrors previous impressions of Petey’s impact and those that will follow in the coming decades of Petey’s life. Frequently, those who have had the pleasure of knowing Petey consider themselves to have received more benefit from their interactions than Petey has.

“Nothing, however, warded off the bitterness that enveloped Petey. Now he knew how Calvin had felt all those years, alone and afraid. Petey knew he could control his happiness by thinking of only good things, but why was it that every time he loved something, it left? First there had been Esteban. Then it was the mice. Then Joe, and Cassie…He would never forget Cassie. After that Owen left. Then he had lost Calvin. There were his family, the only family he’d ever known. He still loved them, and no one could replace them. No one! Parked alone on the grass one day, Petey made a vow. He would still be happy, but from now on, no matter how difficult, he would never allow himself to love anyone again. He had been hurt for the last time!”

As a resident of Warm Springs, confined and institutionalized, Petey has been fixed in place, and over the decades inevitable changes have left him stagnant while others passed in and out of his life. None of the caregivers with whom Petey has developed strong bonds have had the desire to leave him; illnesses, familial obligations, being fired, and aging have created the fractures that have left him overcome with loss at each separation. Calvin, whose loss he feels the most acutely, is as at the mercy of the healthcare system as Petey, and the resolution Petey makes in this quote is in recognition of his powerlessness and a commitment to the one aspect of his life that he can control: his level of attachment.

“Reclining backward, Petey looked ready to wheel into an operating room. The twisted shapes under his sheet cover made Trevor cringe. What kind of legs could form such shapes? Petey’s thin arms bent awkwardly at the elbow, resting beside him with limp bird-claw hands. His tongue coiled strangely in his opened mouth, his head hunched sideways. […] Trevor felt two penetrating eyes settle on him and trap him like prey. Petey’s body might have been useless, but his eyes sure weren’t. Standing motionless, Trevor sensed he should never lie to this man.”

Trevor exhibits considerable apprehension when he is first acclimating to the idea of building a friendship with Petey. Unlike those in Petey’s past who were introduced to him with the caveat that he was intellectually disabled, Sissy explains Petey’s diagnosis of cerebral palsy to Trevor, and the teenager understands from the start that Petey possesses a great deal of wisdom. Trevor is the first person to respect Petey as an elder, and while his initial discomfort with Petey’s physical disability makes him hesitant, his curiosity compels him to look beyond Petey’s physical form.

“This whole thing was making Trevor mad. It wasn’t fair that jerks like Kenny picked on someone who was helpless. It wasn’t fair that someone should be born locked inside their body. Lots of things weren’t fair. It wasn’t fair having to move new places every few years so his parents could get better jobs, Trevor thought. That definitely wasn’t fair.”

From the beginning, Trevor feels a kinship with Petey that he struggles to put into words even after their friendship has solidified. Knowing Petey’s background before he comes to know Petey himself, Trevor can relate to the isolation and lack of autonomy Petey has endured. Trevor’s own sense of justice compels him into his first act of defending Petey from snowballs before he is even consciously aware of his choice to do so, but his instinct to return and watch over Petey comes from a conscious sense of duty to do what he feels is right.

“Almost shouting, Trevor interrupted ‘I hope you’re in a busted-up wheelchair someday.’ Trevor grabbed Petey and pushed him out of the administrator’s office. Immediately, he knew he shouldn’t have said that. But somehow he would find a way to get Petey a new wheelchair. He didn’t need the help of a lazy administrator! Already Trevor had a plan

Trevor is aware he has a propensity toward losing his temper and lashing out at others when he finds himself in circumstances that feel unfair. He often feels a sense of guilt afterward when he hangs up on someone or storms out of a room, wishing he had presented his point more tactfully. The way he addresses the nursing home administrator demonstrates his frustration and fierce loyalty to Petey and serves as a contrast to later interactions in which he learns to temper his responses to advocate for his best friend.

“As they entered the store, Petey’s eyes darted about. Bright, flashing lights, music in the air, children’s screams, food smells—everything bombarded Petey at once. He squealed with delight. People turned and stared, not hiding their curiosity or disgust. […] During their walk at K-mart, only two people smiled and said hello to Petey. Trevor wanted to hug them. […] As his parents walked hesitatingly from the front door toward Petey, Trevor saw in their eyes the same look of fear and disgust he had seen at K-mart.”

In Petey’s 70 years, little has changed. Compassionate individuals willing to look past Petey’s physical form remain in the minority as Trevor learns on this outing. Just as the woman on the train when he was two years old avoided him at all costs, the patrons of the K-mart balk at the elderly man. Trevor himself had to overcome his first impressions of Petey, but knowing him as he does, he is impatient with those who judge so openly and embarrassed that his parents are no different. 

“In less than a minute, a lazy afternoon’s walk became magical as Owen explained how he worked on Petey’s ward back in the sixties and seventies. The emotions between Owen and Petey left Trevor a little jealous. He had come to think of himself as Petey’s best friend. […] That night, Trevor lay awake. He had so many questions to ask Owen. How did Petey live at Warm Springs? Did they know he wasn’t retarded? He thought about the photo album he had looked through with Petey nearly two months earlier. Would Owen know the chubby man in the wheelchair, the one Petey called Ieeekk?”

Trevor is relentlessly curious about Petey’s life at Warm Springs, and through Owen he sees the opportunity to form a more complete understanding of his friend’s life. A more detailed history of Petey’s experience is not something Petey can offer. Trevor respects Petey greatly, asking thoughtful questions to make greater meaning out of situations and deferring to Petey’s wisdom when he is faced with a dilemma. In wanting to understand Petey’s background, Trevor is seeking a more involved role in Petey’s life and a more complete picture of someone he admires so intensely.

“Trevor continued. ‘At Warm Springs, they were separated against their will.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Ma’am, can you please tell me where Calvin Anders lives so Petey can get ahold of him?’ […] He tried to speak calmly. ‘All they had was each other. For years they were best friends until they were transferred out. Nobody cared if they were friends. Not until now. Ma’am, you’re the only person I know who can help. Petey needs his friend. He’s the closest thing to family he has. Please help me find Calvin Anders.’”

Trevor is angered by what he believes to be the injustice that governed Petey’s life in the state hospital, and Trevor’s desire to look for Calvin becomes a mechanism through which Trevor hopes to rectify some of the harm Petey has suffered. Empowered by the righteousness of his cause, Trevor finds the courage and determination he needs to persist in advocating on Petey’s behalf. As part of his advocacy, Trevor interacts effectively in an adult world despite his youth, navigating the obstacles he faces without allowing himself to become discouraged. 

“‘How come you don’t get mad when people stare at you or treat you badly?’ Petey waited patiently for Trevor to answer his own question. ‘Maybe people aren’t really mean—it’s just that they don’t understand?’ Petey nodded and smiled gently. ‘Aeee,’ he squeaked. ‘But how can you make people understand?’ Trevor asked. Petey looked into the darkness and shook his head.”

Trevor is impatient with people who fail to treat Petey with the dignity his friend deserves. Petey’s prevailing effect on others is his ability to teach through example, and in this exchange Trevor looks to his friend for guidance in tempering his responses to the way strangers react to Petey. Petey realizes that lack of understanding forms the basis for most people’s responses to him, but he has yet to discover what might be done to change the way people perceive those who are different.

“Still several yards short, Calvin stopped and reached out. He couldn’t yet touch Petey, so he bunched his cheeks and again maneuvered forward until he bumped Petey’s chair roughly. He winced, then threw his body forward across Petey’s bent knees and hugged. Petey sat quietly, allowing Calvin’s actions to express his emotions as well. […] Petey jabbered away in which sounded like gibberish. Calvin seemed to understand every sound as he smiled and held Petey’s hand.”

The depth of the bond between Petey and Calvin is unfathomable to anyone but the two of them. The resilience they developed was hard won over many years of enduring unimaginable loneliness and helplessness. Trevor’s gift to Petey in their reunion is in part an acknowledgement of the fact that there is no one else who can truly understand what they experienced at Warm Springs.

“At times, Calvin spoke in a whisper as if telling secrets. He talked about a world unlike anything Trevor had ever imagined—a world of crazy people, walls, and screaming. He talked about Joe and Cassie and some of the people at Warm Springs who had been close to him and Petey. He told stories, some funny, some tragic.”

Trevor’s deep compassion for Petey compels him to understand how and why Petey’s life has been the way that it has. Owen could explain the reality of life in Warm Springs from the perspective of an attendant frustrated by the inadequacies of care and resources, but only Calvin can verbalize what it meant to exist in that space through decades of powerlessness and vulnerability. As he absorbs and integrates the stories he hears of Petey’s past, Trevor in essence begins to become a keeper of Petey’s legacy.

“‘Owen,’ he said, ‘I can’t believe Warm Springs separated these two, knowing they had been friends all their lives.’ Owen spoke patiently. ‘It wasn’t their fault. They had to relocate several thousand patients. They returned most to their original counties. Calvin needed a group-home setting. Petey needed total care. Even if they had wanted to, these two couldn’t have stayed together. It was the right decision.’”

The tragic separation of Petey and Calvin preoccupies Trevor’s thoughts until he has this conversation with Owen. Trevor cannot appreciate the gravity of the systemic operational shifts in institutional policy that propelled the large-scale changes that affected each patient in categorically different ways as a result of deinstitutionalization. When Trevor learns that keeping Petey and Calvin together had truly been an impossibility, he begins to find acceptance with what cannot be changed and to focus on the positive changes he can make for Petey in the present.