Dark Cognitions

by Kimberlee R. Mendoza

  “Jake?”

  Brian realized he had given up the patient’s identity. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have revealed his name.”

  “You know I have access to all your patients’ files, anyway.” Ray stepped in front of the desk with crossed arms. “How did Jake get in the hospital after hours?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I should have asked, but he hasn’t opened up, yet, and seemed desperate to talk to someone.” Brian shifted in his chair. “I guess my main focus was on that.”

  Ray rubbed his chin, trying to think that through. “But why after hours?”

  Brian shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Ray nodded. “Well, you should be getting home. We’ll talk about this more later.”

  Brian rolled his eyes again. “I can’t wait.”

  “Goodnight, Brian.”

  ****

  Ray sat at his desk, writing his report. Dr. Jai was breathing down his neck for some explanation into Brian’s bizarre conduct. Ray didn’t have enough details yet, but he was beginning to fear the worst.

  When he turned in this report, Brian would never forgive him. The hope of a renewed friendship between them would cease to exist. Why did things have to be this way? In college, they were the best of friends—ready to change the world. Of course, back then their only real problem was which girl to ask out to their next fraternity event.

  Nothing good would happen now. Ray sighed. All of Brian’s patients’ files sat in front of him. He hoped they would give him some insight into his friend’s odd behavior. Ray touched the corner of the first file. His stomach flipped. He was afraid of what he might uncover. It was out of true friendship that he’d volunteered to take Brian’s case. If there was something unpleasant to discover, he wanted to be the first to know. Ray grabbed a pen from inside his jacket and wrote “Jake” on the top of a yellow steno pad on his desk. He would start there.

  The cell phone in his jacked buzzed. He snapped it open.

  “Hi,” Danielle said.

  Oh no. “Danielle, hi.”

  “I was just checking. We’re still on tonight, right?”

  He glanced at his watch. “I really wanted to take you out, but something came up here. I hope you won’t kill me, but can I ask for a rain check?”

  It took a moment for her to answer, and Ray dreaded that she might be angry.

  “Um, sure. No problem. I’ll just see you Monday, then?”

  “Sounds good. I really am sorry. Thanks for understanding.”

  “Yeah. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.” He snapped his phone closed, and walked to a counter on the side of the room. He hoped she wasn’t too mad. He really liked her. This wasn’t about him taking her out, though he had to admit, it did frighten him.

  No, this was about the task at hand—Brian’s future. That frightened him even more. He flipped the switch on the coffee pot and it hissed. It would be a late night—he’d need his caffeine.

  ****

  Danielle sat on the bed, surrounded by outfits, cradling the phone. She couldn’t move. Her heart hurt too much. All day she’d glammed up for this night, including several hours to get her hair and nails done. She bought a gorgeous black dress and killer matching pumps. She glanced to her left at her reflection in the mirror. Never had she looked this beautiful, and it was for naught. She might as well go into work and make up the hours she took off.

  She unzipped her dress and let it fall around her ankles. Why Lord? Why must I always be in love with the guys who are emotionally unavailable? She didn’t doubt that he was busy. He’d made it clear that Dr. Manifold was a huge priority. But that didn’t change the fact that he had stood her up.

  She pulled on a pair of scrubs and grabbed a chocolate bar from the fridge. Tonight, she’d need chocolate. It was the only thing that could sooth her broken heart.

  11

  Ray stared at the cantaloupes, unsure what a ripe one looked like. His mother kept harassing him about eating more fruit. Did he even like melon? It sounded good. He reached for the tan ball.

  “Dr. Jensen?”

  Ray spun around, and his heart leapt. “Danielle.” She looked different. No makeup, her hair pulled back by a hair clip, and she wore gray sweats. Still beautiful. “So, what are you doing here?” OK, that was a stupid question. “Besides shopping?”

  “Getting dinner, actually. I tend to eat for one, so if I shop a week at a time…”

  “It all goes bad,” he finished.

  She nodded, and laughed. “Exactly.”

  He looked into his empty cart filled with two frozen dinners and a pair of apples. “Well, I’m attempting to do the same thing, but as you can see, I’m clueless.”

  She nodded with an amused expression.

  “I guess I still owe you dinner,” he said.

  A slow smile crossed her lips. “Yes, I believe you do.”

  “I’m not much of a cook, but—”

  “So, why don’t you come over to my place? I’m making orange chicken and wild rice.”

  He lifted the frozen Salisbury steak from his cart. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to beat this.”

  She laughed. “I insist. I just need to grab a few more things, and we can go.”

  ****

  Danielle placed orange slices on the plates, took a deep breath, and walked them into the living room.

  Ray sat behind a TV tray reading a newspaper.

  She couldn’t believe that he was here, in her house, reading her paper, and about to eat her food. This seemed surreal. Only last night she wasted precious tears on a confirmed failure of this dream, but now here he sat. For a second, she almost imagined what it would be like to be a married woman making her man dinner.

  He folded the paper down and smiled. “Mmm, smells wonderful.”

  She handed him a fork and napkin, and then joined him on the couch. “Sorry, I don’t have a dining set. I tend to eat while watching television.”

  “So you really are a nerd.”

  She frowned. No one had called her that since high school.

  He laughed. “I meant that in the most endearing way. I do the same thing.”

  Not meeting his gaze, she grinned and reached for the remote. “Then you won’t mind if I put it on now?” She wasn’t really in the mood to watch it; she just needed something to calm the tension in the room. Electricity or discomfort, she hadn’t decided. She really liked him, but wasn’t sure how much of that was returned.

  “Sounds good.” He picked up his fork and brought some rice to his mouth. “Mmm, much better than a frozen dinner.”

  “Thanks.”

  While they ate, their conversation lingered on the show in front of them. A whale had found himself stuck in the San Diego bay. Researchers debated over whether they should help him back to the open waters, or just let him be.

  “Seriously, if he wants to stay in the bay, why don’t they let him?” Danielle said.

  “He could get hurt,” Ray replied.

  “Well, sometimes nature has to be nature, you know?”

  He smiled at her, studying her.

  It sent a shock wave to her heart.

  When they’d finished their food, she stood to clear the plates. At the same time, he stood. Their faces were less than an inch apart. Her heart pounded. She swallowed, wanting so much for him to touch his lips to hers.

  Instead, he dropped his gaze to his pocket, and lifted out a vibrating cell phone. “Excuse me.”

  “Of course.” She nodded and reached for the plates. Not that she really felt it was “OK.” She wanted that kiss. Couldn’t he have ignored the call, even for a second? Then she scolded herself for being so selfish. He was a psychologist. Always on call, as were most of the people at work. She knew when the phone rang, they took the call. If she wanted to date a doctor, she’d have to get used to that.

  Date a doctor. She set the dishes in the sink and sighed.

  “I’m afraid I have to go,” he said from the kitchen doorway.

>   “I understand.” She forced a smile, and reached for a packaged fruit pie. “Here, dessert. You like cherry?”

  “Love cherry.” He laughed and took it. “Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  With a tight grin, he nodded, and then left.

  What am I doing? She ripped open a chocolate pudding pie and leaned her hip against the counter. Maybe putting her heart out there wasn’t the best idea. Too often, she’d been hurt. But she really liked him. Lord, if this is dumb, tell me.

  ****

  Ray hurried to his car. The call hadn’t been that important. His mom wanted him to call his Aunt Willie and wish her a happy birthday. So, why did he run? There he sat in the home of a beautiful woman; someone he clearly had feelings for, and he’d bolted. I really am a dweeb.

  He stared up at her apartment and sighed. A part of him said to go back up there and be a man. Ask the girl out on a real date. The other part, the part that was winning, kept him glued to his leather interior.

  He was thirty-seven years old and not getting any younger. Though he never hurt for the watchful eyes of women, he hardly cared much. He was married to his job. But Danielle did something to him. It unnerved him. He went the long way to his office every day, just to see her apple-red lips smile at him. How lame was that?

  No one would guess the truth. He was scared to death of women, always had been. Sure, he carried himself like a man with confidence, but inside he was a gooey marshmallow.

  Maybe that was why he’d been a mama’s boy for so long. Mom was easy. He knew how to talk to her. But in the last few years, he’d pulled away from her, and now realized he hated being alone.

  For a while, Brian’s issues filled his time and concentration. And even now, he often used that as an excuse.

  But he couldn’t deny it any longer. He desired to be more than just a friend to Danielle.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed all the air from his lungs. Just go back up there. Butterflies danced in his stomach. He grabbed the handle on his car door, just as his cell phone rang.

  He glanced at the display. Saved by the bell. This wasn’t a call he could ignore.

  12

  Brian pulled into the circular driveway and stared up at the two-story white stucco house that cost him a half-million dollars. A home any family would love to own. Big bay windows, a three-car garage, four bedrooms, a loft. Yes, it was the perfect house. And yet, to Brian, its walls imprisoned him.

  He pulled a flask from inside his suit pocket and slowly unscrewed the cap. A chuckle welled inside him and he laughed aloud. His voice echoed loudly in the silent car, but he couldn’t seem to control it. Nothing was funny. Was he losing his mind?

  His laughter turned to anger. He stared at the house with disdain. Only a small porch light lit the house. Its walls mocked him.

  “I hate you! I haaaate you!” he yelled to the dismal dwelling. He took a swig from the container and let the liquid sit in his mouth until he almost gagged. Squinting, he forced it down his throat. His eyes watered.

  Someone tapped on his window.

  Brian’s heart leapt.

  “Dad, open the door!” Lara yelled from outside his window.

  Brian stuffed the flask under his seat and unlocked the door.

  “Hi, honey,” he slurred, stepping out of his car. His legs wobbled and he fell against her.

  “Dad, you’re drunk! You could have killed someone.”

  “Shh! You’re going to wake the neighbors. Just help me inside.”

  Lara wrapped his arm around her neck and kicked the car door closed with her foot. Unable to support his weight, they both fell into the bushes lining the walkway.

  “Are you OK?” she asked.

  “Fine. You?” He pushed himself back up.

  Lara moved in position to help him again. “Dad, why are you doing this to yourself?”

  “You’re young. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

  Lara pushed open the front door.

  Brian staggered through and patted the wall for the light switch.

  “Here.” Lara flipped the hall light on and helped Brian sit on the bottom stair. “Dad, this isn’t helping you. You need to talk to Mom.”

  “Stop it!” He looked her in the eye. “Stop badgering me about talking to your mother. She brought this on herself. If she would just get over it and move on—”

  “Are you over everything?” Lara cocked her head to the side. “Because if you are, you sure don’t act like it.”

  “I’m fine. I’m going on with life. That’s what she should do, too.”

  Lara shook her head and sat next to her father. “This isn’t going on with life. This is walking towards an early death. I think you need help.”

  “Enough! You’re my daughter. You don’t have a right to talk to me like this. Do you hear me?” Brian held onto the railing and tried to stand. “Now, go to bed. You have school in the morning.”

  “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

  Brian folded back to the stairs, his head pressed into the white metal handrail. He relaxed and let his body slide down the steps. His head hit the last rung.

  “Dad, are you OK?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Daddy?”

  Still didn’t answer.

  “I’ll get Mom.” Lara headed for the master bedroom.

  “No!” he snapped. Brian opened his eyes and sighed. “Look, I’m fine. I just hate the weekend.”

  Lara stopped and faced him. “How can you hate the weekend? Everybody loves time off.”

  Brian pushed himself away from the railing and placed his head between his knees. “Not me.”

  “Are you sure you’re OK?”

  “Didn’t I tell you to go to your room?”

  “Yeah.”

  Brian looked unsteadily at her. “Then I suggest you go.”

  “But— “

  “Go.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” She kissed the top of his head and trudged up the stairs behind him.

  Brian lay sprawled out over five steps. It wasn’t comfortable, so he allowed himself to slide to the cream colored tile below. When his head hit the floor, he winced in pain. He didn’t care. Tomorrow was Saturday. That meant a whole two days with his catatonic wife.

  ****

  Ray watched from down the street. Brian was a mess. He could barely walk straight. Hopefully, Rhonda won’t ever be awake to see him like this. His heart ached for his friend. Should he stay longer?

  He glanced at the cherry pie on the seat next to him, and smiled. Danielle was something else. He hated that he had to leave her. Maybe he’d imagined it, but they’d almost kissed. Going back up there would have been good, but he’d received the call, and a promise was a promise. Watching over Brian had become a fulltime job. Until things were better, he had no choice.

  The cell rang in his pocket. He snapped it open. “Dr. Jensen.”

  “You can go now. Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” He snapped the phone closed. His job here was done.

  ****

  “You’re not going to make it.” The sinister voice slinked through the darkness. A soft, smoke-like cloud hovered in the streets and a small shaft of light filtered from a distant lamppost.

  Brian rubbed his head. Where am I? More important, how did I get here?

  He glanced down at his clothes. He still wore the blue suit he’d worn all day, and a raincoat he didn’t recognize. He strained to see. I must be in an alley somewhere downtown. Barefoot and cold, he moved toward the light.

  “You’re not going to make it.”

  The chilling declaration iced Brian’s blood. His heart pounded. The air lay like bricks in his lungs. “Who said that?”

  Silence.

  “Who’s there?”

  Brian leaned against a damp cement wall. Sweat dripped from his hair and stung his eyes.

  “You’re not going to make it.”

  “Stop saying that!”
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  “You’re not…going…to make it.”

  Brian shrieked. He stumbled into a run, heading for the light. He tripped over his trench coat and landed face down on the pavement. His forehead burned. Warm liquid seeped down his face and into his mouth. Brian touched his cheek. Blood.

  “You’re not going to make it, Brian!” It knew his name.

  Brian pushed himself up, but fell again. His legs would not support him. He put his hands in front of his body and pulled himself—his legs dragging behind—down the street. He peeked over his shoulder, but only night followed.

  When he turned back toward the light, he stopped.

  Someone or something blocked his way.

  Brian squinted. It appeared to be an enormous creature with a body like an ogre and a face that resembled a dragon. Its long, spiny claws clicked on the ground with each step. The vile beast breathed amber smoke from its nostrils and russet ooze dripped from its crimson eyes.

  Brian lay crying like a small child. He covered his head with his arms, unable to face the awful creature. “What do you want from me?”

  “I have it,” hissed the beast.

  “What? What do you have?”

  “Your soul, Brian. Give up. You’re not going to make it.” Again, those haunting words.

  Silence.

  Brian peered through the cracks between his fingers. The beast was gone. Brian tried to stand. His legs wobbled like rubber. He squeezed his eyes closed to try to clear his mind. When he opened his eyes, he heard breathing in the darkness.

  I’m in bed? It was only a dream. A nightmare. But he didn’t feel any better. Instead, he felt that familiar pain in the pit of his stomach. How could he get rid of the anguish that resided in his heart? He didn’t know how much longer he could continue living in this way.

  Afraid to return to the nightmare, Brian stared at the ceiling until the sun streamed through the blinds.

  ****

  “Lara!” Brian yelled at the top of the stairs. “Are you awake?”