Dark Cognitions

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Dark Cognitions Page 9

by Kimberlee R. Mendoza


  Her dark, shiny hair fell to her waist and her emerald-green eyes seemed to look right into a person’s soul. Every Wednesday night for three months, he sat at her table and ordered a black coffee and a glazed donut. He thought she was pretty, but never gave her a second thought.

  Mainly because Brian thought he loved a blonde who sang in the chorale. Funny, he couldn’t even remember the blonde’s name now.

  Rhonda made the first move. While pouring his coffee, she invited him to a poetry reading on campus.

  Brian needed the credit for a humanities project and agreed to go.

  Rhonda was scheduled to read that night. By the last line of her sonnet, he’d forgotten the blonde.

  They’d dated only two months when he’d asked her to marry him. A year before he entered grad school, they got married.

  She had worked hard to support him during those times, and he promised her that when he was a doctor, she could go back to school and stay home with their kids. That was the plan. And then…

  Brian spit in the toilet. He didn’t know what hurt worse, his stomach or his heart. He grabbed a wad of tissue and wiped at his face. “If onlys” raced through his mind. He used the edge of the tub to push up, and then walked back to his bed.

  Leaning against the headboard, he stared at Rhonda sleeping. His beautiful wife appeared so lost. He hated “if onlys.” They never accomplished anything. They always came too late.

  Rhonda’s rhythmic breathing stopped. She got out of bed, walked to the bathroom and flipped on the light switch.

  Am I dreaming? Brian sat gaping at the silhouette in the doorway.

  She closed the door.

  Why am I so surprised? Rhonda must go to the bathroom from time to time. Right? She must eat, too. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Brian sat up and turned on the lamp by the bed. He noticed a small Bible and a highlighter sitting on her side. That wasn’t there before, was it?

  Maybe Rhonda was doing better. Maybe the lurid dream was finally over. He couldn’t wait for her to come back to bed. He would finally get to talk to her.

  He stared at the door. Only the ticking of the living room clock punctuated the night. What’s taking her so long? The glow from under the door was the only indication that she was even there.

  He waited.

  Nothing.

  He walked to the door and knocked. “Honey, are you all right?”

  No response.

  “Rhonda?”

  Brian opened the door and gasped. Rhonda lay in the bathtub covered in blood. He rushed to the side of the tub and grabbed her.

  “Rhonda!”

  “It’s too late, Brian,” she said in a barely audible voice.

  “No, it can’t be. This is my fault. If only… “

  Rhonda rubbed his hand with hers. “Call the hospital.”

  Brian nodded. He walked to the phone by their bed, but he couldn’t see the buttons through his tears. He wiped at his face with his sleeve and punched 911. Shaking, he fell to the floor.

  “This is the 911 Operator. What is your emergency?”

  Brian croaked. “I’ve killed her.”

  14

  Danielle shot up in bed, gasping. It took her a moment to clearly determine where she was. The nightmare she’d just walked through made her heart race. She imagined an enormous beast chasing someone. She couldn’t make out the face, but it felt so real.

  She sank down slowly, and took a gulp of air to calm her nerves. Her heart slowly settled, but her spirit did not. For some reason, she felt like praying. Not for anything in particular, her soul just needed it. A heavy burden lingered in the room, causing her unrest. Dear Lord, I don’t know what troubles me. Maybe it was that dream, or maybe it is something more. I pray, in your name, for peace for whoever that was. For whatever troubles me now. She closed her eyes and continued to pray. Eventually, she fell back to sleep.

  ****

  The early morning sunlight glistened between the cracks in the blinds and into Brian’s eyes. For some reason he lay sprawled out on the bedroom floor. He squinted at the bathroom door and his heart fell into his stomach. Brian jumped up, snatched open the door, and peered across the small room. The tub lay empty.

  What? Brian turned around.

  Rhonda slept peacefully on the bed.

  “Rhonda?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Rhonda, are you awake?”

  Still silence.

  Confused by the obscure dream, he undressed for the shower.

  “Brian?”

  His stomach leapt. He turned around slowly.

  Rhonda sat up.

  “Rhonda? You’re awake?”

  “Brian, we need to talk.”

  Brian rushed to her side and took her in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Rhonda. So very sorry.”

  “I know.”

  Brian pulled back. “Where have you been?”

  Rhonda’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Brian shook his head. “I mean, while you lay there sleeping, what do you think about?”

  Her face remained blank.

  “Well, we can talk about it later. I need to get to work. I’m glad you’re awake. We’ll talk tonight, OK?”

  Rhonda nodded.

  He kissed her cheek, grabbed a beige towel from the hall pantry, and walked in the bathroom. He closed the door and smiled at his reflection. His dark eyes appeared haggard. Well, of course they do, I’ve been living a nightmare—both awake and asleep.

  Brian reached behind the glass door and turned the knob. He stepped in the shower and let the warm water spill over his face. He couldn’t help but beam. Things were getting better. He just knew it.

  She’s awake.

  ****

  Brian couldn’t believe he willingly stepped into an elevator and pushed the button to the seventh floor of St. Ruth’s hospital. He avoided the administrative floor like one avoided shots. Even more surprising was his reason for going. With the recent change in Rhonda, Brian needed someone to confide in and Ray was the only one who really knew his wife.

  Brian peeked his head in Ray’s office and rapped on the door jamb.

  Ray looked up from his laptop. “Brian,” he said. “What a surprise!”

  “Are you busy?”

  “No more than usual. Come on in.” Ray motioned to the chairs in the center of the office. “Have a seat.”

  Brian moved to the end of Ray’s desk and sat in one of the brown overstuffed chairs. “I have good news.”

  “Really? What’s that?”

  “Rhonda and I spoke this morning.”

  “That’s wonderful. I know there’s been a lot of tension since the accident.” Ray smiled and joined Brian in the facing chair. “What did you talk about?”

  “Nothing, really. It’s just so good to hear her voice again.”

  “I guess its progress that you talked to her,” Ray said.

  “I think its progress that she talked at all. I was beginning to think I’d have to call the mental hospital to pick her up.”

  Ray cocked his head to the side and stared at Brian.

  “What?” Brian asked annoyed.

  “Rhonda said the same about you.”

  Brian’s eyes went wide. “When?”

  “She’s been saying it for months.”

  “What?” Brian jumped to his feet. “You’ve been talking to her?”

  Ray looked confused. “Of course.”

  Brian’s cheeks burned red. “You mean it’s all been an act?”

  “Calm down, Brian.”

  Brian paced like a trapped lion. “How could she do that to me? Here I’m about to lose my mind and she was talking to my best friend the whole time.” Brian stared at Ray, anger eating his soul. “No! My back-stabbing boss!” Then before he could stop his lips from moving, he asked, “Are you two having an affair?”

  Ray’s face turned red. “What?” he snapped. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “Am I?”

  Ray shook his
head. “If you knew your wife, then you’d know better than to ask me that. Go home, Brian. Take some time off and go home to Rhonda.”

  “No! I need to work. Stop trying to get rid of me.” Brian pushed past Ray, and punched at the wall. “And stay away from my wife.”

  Brian fumed all the way to the elevator. He pushed the button four times in a row and paced. Why won’t it open? He didn’t want Ray to follow him. He didn’t want to see Ray now, or ever again. Brian turned for the stairs right when the elevator door slid open. “Finally.” The door closed and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  When the car reached the third floor, Brian moved to step out.

  Krissy ambled in.

  He held her gaze and let the elevator door close. “What are you doing here?” Brian asked.

  “Jake crank called me. I think it was him the entire time.” She faced him and grinned, revealing a small dimple on the right corner of her mouth. “I came to see you.”

  “Look,” Brian said. “I’m really sorry about the other day.”

  She shook her head. “No, I figured it out. Jake is seeing you as his therapist. It would be unethical and probably illegal for you to get mixed up with me.”

  “Still, I blew you off.”

  “No, you were being professional. I find that honorable.” She took a step closer to him and her lilac spray lingered in his nostrils. “I was so desperate to get away from Jake that I used you.”

  Brian diverted his gaze.

  “But I do like you, doctor.” She ran her hand over his shoulder. “I’m just sorry things aren’t different.”

  Brian tried to reject the voice in his head. Rhonda was awake and it was wrong to like another woman. But something in the recesses of his mind tempted him to follow his lust. On an impulse, Brian pushed the button to the basement and grabbed her in an ardent embrace.

  ****

  Ray searched for meaning behind the encounter with Brian.

  Brian had actually tried to reach out to him and it had ended in disaster.

  What just happened? He played the conversation back through his mind. It just didn’t add up.

  Every night for the past month, Rhonda would call, and then Ray would follow Brian home. His friend was always drunk when he arrived. Ray knew that he would have to do something soon to protect both Rhonda and the hospital.

  Ray reached for the phone and dialed. It rang three times before Dr. Jai picked up.

  “I think we have a serious problem.”

  ****

  “Doc? Doc? Are you there, Doc?” Jake stood over Brian, who sat dazed in his chair. “Earth to the head hunter.”

  Brian blinked. Jake’s face came into focus. “Jake?”

  “Ah…we’ve made contact.”

  Brian sat up, rubbed at his face, and inhaled deeply. “When did you get here?”

  “I’ve been standing here for the past five minutes, man. You OK? Need to talk?” Jake laughed.

  “Very funny. I’m the doctor; you’re the patient.”

  Jake laughed again. “Hard to tell right now, isn’t it?”

  Brian adjusted his tie and checked his watch. “OK, you have an hour. What do you want to talk about?”

  “You, Doc. I want to talk about you.”

  Brian felt uneasy about his encounter with Krissy, and the last thing he wanted to talk about was himself. Especially now that he knew about Jake and Krissy’s relationship. Brian shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. Now, why don’t we start with the murder you started to tell me about the other night.”

  Jake plopped down on the couch and placed his hands behind his neck. “Nah. I was thinking more about asking your daughter out. She’s hot.”

  Brian came out of his chair. “Don’t even think about it, Jake. You leave her alone.”

  Jake busted up laughing. “That was great, Doc. Oh, if only you could’ve seen your face.”

  “I don’t have time for this. If you’re going to tell jokes, then go do that at the halfway house,” Brian said angrily.

  “If I confess anything, you’ll have to report me, right?”

  “I do honor patient and doctor confidentiality, but if I’m called into court, then I have to testify to murder,” Brian admitted. “So, yes.”

  Jake stood up and grabbed the Bible off the shelf.

  “So, that’s it, then. You’re not going to talk?”

  Jake plopped back down on the couch and opened the Book without answering.

  Brian fumed. “What is wrong with you, huh?”

  Jake looked up amused. “I must be crazy or I wouldn’t be here, right?”

  Brian stood and paced. “You come in here after hours ready to confess, and then you keep me here for another hour when I could have been at home.”

  “I thought you hated home.”

  Brian flinched. “I’ve never said that.”

  Jake shrugged and went back to his reading.

  “You’re missing the point,” Brian said. “You didn’t tell me a thing. Not really. I want to know, Jake, did you do it? Did you kill someone?”

  Jake read for a minute before answering. “Yes and no.”

  Brian’s shoulders felt heavy. He dropped back into the chair and covered his face with his hands. “You either did, or you didn’t.”

  Jake swung his legs off the couch and faced Brian. “You’re losing it, Doc. I don’t think I’m the one who needs therapy.”

  “Did you do it?” Brian whispered.

  Jake placed the Bible on the coffee table and leaned in. “Well, that’s all in how you look at it.”

  “And how do you look at it, Jake?”

  “From inside my head. You know, how I play out the memory. It feels like I killed her. But did I really do it? I’m not so sure.”

  “You’re talking in riddles.”

  “Yes, I guess I am, Sam, I am.”

  “Maybe we should continue another day.”

  Jake stood and walked to the edge of Brian’s desk. “I thought you liked spending time with me?”

  “I do, Jake. I just don’t have the patience for this. Things are a little stressful right now, and I don’t feel like playing games with you.”

  “So, I’m getting to you. Is that it?”

  Brian frowned. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’ve just caught me on a bad day. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “More nightmares?”

  Brian stared at Jake before responding. “How do you know about my nightmares?”

  Jake laughed. “I don’t. I just have them myself, so I assume that’s what would keep a grown man from getting enough sleep.”

  Brian raised an eyebrow. “A grown man?”

  “I may be younger than you, but I’m street smart. What I don’t have in years, I make up for in experience.”

  Brian rolled his eyes.

  “What? You don’t believe me?”

  “Never mind. Why don’t you tell me something that you’ve read in the Bible?”

  “Nice change of subject, Doc.”

  Brian moved back to the chair across from Jake. “For once, just answer the question.”

  “Fine.” Jake stared at the Bible in his hand and said, “I only read one story.”

  “Really?” Brian asked lifting an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

  “The story of David and Bathsheba.”

  “You mean to tell me that you spend hours at a time reading the same story over and over?”

  “Yep.”

  “And why’s that?”

  Jake cracked his neck. “King David intrigues me.”

  “Why does he intrigue you?”

  “Well, here’s a guy who has been called a ‘man after God’s own heart,’ and yet, he murdered a man to cover his own guilt.”

  Brian didn’t read the Bible much, but he knew the story about David impregnating a married woman, Bathsheba, and then sending her husband to his death to cover his own sin.

  “And why do you find that interesting?”

 
Jake gave a closed-mouth smile. “Because its nuts how far a man will go to cover up his own guilt.”

  Brian rounded his shoulders. “So, do you have anything you’d like to confess…without using a riddle?”

  “Nah! It’s not time. But don’t worry. I won’t murder a man to cover my crime.” Jake winked.

  “Jake, are you harassing Krissy Stephens?”

  Jake’s face went cold, his eyes narrowed. “You don’t want to go there, Doc.”

  Brian swallowed. “Why not?”

  Jake relaxed, apparently trying to mask his feelings. “You like her?”

  Now Brian felt nauseous. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a happily married man.”

  Jake crossed to Brian’s desk and picked up his stress ball. “Married, yes. Happy, no.”

  “Look, Jake. I’ve told you. We have rules. We can only talk about you. Now answer the question. Are you harassing Ms. Stephens?”

  Jake stared at the ball in his hands, watching the beads seep through his hands. “No, I’m not harassing her. We love each other.” He looked at Brian with a heart-piercing look. “And you best write that down in your notes, Doc.” He sat the ball back on the table. “Well, I think I’m done here for today. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, I think I’ve had…” Brian cleared his throat. “We’ve had enough. I’ll see you next week.”

  “I look forward to it. You’re the highlight of my week.”

  “The feeling is mutual, Jake. Now, I’ll see you later.”

  Jake laughed and left.

  A pain shot through Brian’s abdomen. He grabbed his stomach and grimaced. Opening his desk drawer, he grabbed a roll of antacids and a bottle of scotch. He threw a couple nickel-sized chalks into his mouth, chewed, and washed it down with the golden spirits.

  His heart sat in a pit of dejection. He missed his wife—her stunning smile, soft ivory skin, and lovely hair. Oh, how he missed loving her. It was getting difficult to remember their life together before the accident. No. He wouldn’t think about that, couldn’t think about that. Agony gripped his belly once more.

  What was he doing with Krissy? He had no right to kiss her. It felt like an evil force drew him into her arms. Brian took another swig of his drink, and reached for his cell phone. Flipping it open, he dialed the familiar number.

 

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