The string was close at hand, right under his nose, less than two centimeters away, but it seemed so far away that he could not reach it.
The two boys gaped at what they saw, wondering what had happened.
The balloon was clearly in front of this uncle, why did he tried a few times but just couldn't catch it?
The younger one was a little frightened, and he cried again.
A middle-aged woman, who looked like the boys' parents, hurried over and tugged at the crying child.
"What are you doing? What's the matter? What are you crying about?" She asked as she cast her eyes on Dylan doubtfully.
The older boy glanced at Dylan and said, "our balloon flew up into the tree. But this uncle can't get it."
The middle-aged woman looked up at the balloon stuck in the trunk in surprise. At this height, any a.d.u.l.t was tall enough to reach the balloon. Even she could do it easily. It was easy for the man in front of her to get the balloon down. Was he teasing her boys?
But it didn't look like that from the way he was staring at the balloon.
Could it be...
The middle-aged woman gave a shiver, hurriedly pulling the two boys aside, and scolded them in a low voice, "I told you not to talk to strangers! This uncle is a psychopath! Forget the balloon, I'll buy you another one..."
The word "psychopath" floated clearly into Dylan's ears. His body shook slightly, and he slowly turned to look at the woman and her sons.
The middle-aged woman shivered under his deep and cold eyes. She hugged the two boys more tightly as if the man in front of her was a beast, who would come up to tear them at any time. She thought she was right in her guess and began to scold her sons.
"See? He must have something wrong with his brain. Remember, don't ever talk to such a man again! What if he hurts you?"
The two children nodded vaguely and looked at Dylan in horror.
"What are you talking about? You have something wrong with your brain yourself! Watch your mouth!" Savannah, carrying two bottles of soft drinks, came over and stood in front of Dylan, staring at the middle-aged woman. The fire in her eyes almost burned her!
"If there's nothing wrong with him, why can't he reach the balloon? Well, it's a pity he looks so good but psycho..." The middle-aged woman gave a snort.
"You are psycho! All of you are psycho!" Savannah, purple with anger, raised the bottle in her hand and waved at the middle-aged woman.
The middle-aged woman was so frightened that she ran away with her boys as she muttered angrily, "Bad luck! Both mad!"
"Go! Get out of my face!" Savannah shouted after her.
Suddenly her wrist was caught, and she was gently pulled back.
Dylan looked at her and shook his head.
Afraid that this would irritate him, she led him back to the bench and sat down.
"Take no notice. That woman's so rude! You just didn't take the balloon off. That's normal... If I were to take it, I might not get it." Savannah comforted him awkwardly.
"The balloon was just in front of me, but I can't reach it," he said calmly, looking at Savannah with a tranquil eye.
Savannah silenced.
"I could see it, and I knew it was within my reach, but I just couldn't locate the balloon, and all of a sudden, I couldn't tell how far it was from me." He looked really upset.
Savannah listened to him calmly, her heart pounding, and she was suddenly saddened.
One of the symptoms of the second phase of this familial mental illness, Jacob said, was that the patient began to lose his sense of place.
The most typical example was that he would be unable to tell how far away an object was from him when it was in front of him.
His illness had become worse.
"You're taking so many pills. They all have side effects. You'll recover yourself when you stop taking them. Don't worry." She adjusted her mood, squeezing his hand, and forced a big smile.
He knew she was consoling him.
"You'll be taken for a psychopath too if you're still with me," he said with a wry smile.
"Stop it!" She clapped her hand over his mouth. "Don't say that again! If you want me to be happy and not be mad, there's only one thing you have to do: never give up!"
He said nothing more.
***
After what happened in the park, they were not in the mood for shopping, and they returned to the hospital directly.
In the evening, Dylan took the medicine and went to bed early.
"Take off your jacket. You don't need to wear it when you go to bed. I'll be right there, and I'll call the nurse if anything happens," Savannah said as she reached for the strait-jacket on him.
She knew how uncomfortable he was in it. It was impossible to get a good night's sleep. Sometimes he couldn't even breathe.
"No," Dylan wanted to push her away, but she knocked his hand down softly and began to undo the buttons on his back.
"Be good. Take it off before you sleep every day. I'll wait until you fall asleep. It'll be alright." With that, she scr.a.p.ed off the strait-jacket quickly.
Savannah's hands trembled a little when she found his strong upper body deformed slightly after he wore the shackles for a few days.
"I'm sleepy," Dylan said softly, but without expression.
Savannah swallowed her tears and tucked him into bed but was suddenly grabbed by the wrist.
"Come up and sleep with me," he pulled her into his arms gently.
He knew she was tired too, so he let her lie down beside him.
Savannah blushed, and without much hesitation, she took off her shoes and put her arms around his waist, burying her head in his c.h.e.s.t and inhaling deeply.
He smelled cool and nice, like the fresh air on a winter morning.
She curled up in his arms like a little kitty, with an impulse to indulge in his warmth forever.