Adapt

by Edward Freeland

  “Let it go,” she said. “He is not treating you right. He’s not doing what you think, though. I believe he is playing on your paranoia to get you back on the ward. Which is wrong, and unprofessional. There’s not much we can do so please let it go.”

  “How can I, he’s planning on having me sectioned. I know what that means,” said Daniel.

  “Relax, please. Don’t let him make you angry.”

  Daniel’s fists clenched. His enemy were sneaky, evading a fair fight. He let out a growl and swung his arm. Full force, his fist struck the door. He punched again. A small imprint was the only damage to the door but his knuckles were open, dripping blood. He could feel the bruise immediately. His mother looked at him, “I have tried to protect you since you were born, I looked after you and raised you the best I could. You are a grown man and I still want to protect you, but I can’t watch you act like this.” Clarissa left the room to hide her tears. Daniel stood alone in the kitchen, his fist wanting to impact again. He was powerless. He thought of the taunts from the media. A pill fused with energy / Your body is eating itself / Your death will be a humorous anecdote / A doctor gave you a disease, on purpose / Your body is eating itself / You’re dying / We won’t mention his name / Check the unit is secure before leaving / Need some more rope / We can’t be stopped / You’re the walking dead / Clever murder / Your body is eating itself.

  The sick words were aimed at him. He knew it. They knew it. How can I prove it? A sentence structured to disguise the threats and the taunts. A choice of words selected to veil the warhead, designed to strike its target, evading detection from even the victim’s closest allies. A cloaked dagger for him and him alone. A code with no uniformity, no code key other than Daniel’s mind.

  They were the cowards who wouldn’t confront him on their own. Cowards, protected by their name and position in life. Protected by the distance between victim and bully. What they say about my family is easy when in number. I will ignore the bully. Like any bully when their victim is weakened they stamp harder. They are scared of being caught so they do it in secret. Cowards like Dr Cribson and Kerry Burger.

  Daniel leaned up against the wall, his body slowly sliding down until he slouched on the floor. He emptied his pockets. A pack of Marlborough, a lighter and his MP3 player. He put the earphones in his ears and listened to the random selection of a Radiohead piece of music, Reckoner. Whilst lighting a cigarette, the music made him want to stand up, the sound passing through his body in a meaningful way.

  Matt walked into the kitchen. “Your knuckles are bleeding,” he said. Daniel pulled out the earphones.

  “I know,” he replied. “I had to release the energy; these people are putting a lot of pressure on me.”

  “We know they are,” said Matt. “I know the doctor isn’t treating you right, but what can we do? There’s nothing we can do.”

  “What they are doing makes them a danger and they don’t care,” said Daniel. “If I was really mentally ill, under the pressure they are applying I would have lashed out by now. That makes them a danger.”

  “I know they are,” said Matt. “I see through them, but what can I do?”

  “They are trying to destroy me. Trying to destroy my mind. Is that not sick?”

  “It is,” said Matt. “The only thing I can suggest is look to nature for inspiration. A diamond for instance. Large numbers of people can try to destroy a diamond. Squeezing with both hands. They can all try and keep trying. Eventually they will cut themselves.”

  Eight weeks since Daniel left the ward and the bullying continued. Dr Cribson and Kerry Burger sat opposite him. The fire was no longer in use with spring on the horizon.

  “You have been exposed. Why do you even want to live? What’s left?” asked Burger.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” replied Daniel.

  “Why carry on?” Burger asked again.

  “I have a wonderful family, I have lots to live for.”

  “Do you think we have evidence against you?” asked Burger.

  “No.”

  “What, you don’t think we can use it against you?”

  “You think you have something but you don’t,” said Daniel.

  “I don’t like the tone of your voice,” said Dr Cribson. “I don’t like where this is going.”

  “I don’t like the way you have approached me since the start. You were in the wrong and you still are,” Daniel said.

  “I wouldn’t be aggressive if I were you,” said Dr Cribson.

  “I’m stating a fact,” said Daniel.

  “We can still section you,” said Burger.

  “How? I’m no threat. You have manipulated most of what I have said. I can’t see how you can justify it,” said Daniel.

  “We will find a way. Don’t get too cocky, Daniel,” said Dr Cribson. “You’re becoming more unwell.”

  “He is,” Burger agreed. “He is more perplexed, still not aware of his surroundings.”

  “I am very aware,” insisted Daniel.

  “I think you’re outnumbered,” Burger said, her lip twitching, it was her Pit Bull smile.

  “You’re sick, Daniel,” the doctor said.

  They pecked at him in no order. They pecked with a predator manner. They pecked like vultures, tearing the remains of a corpse, unrelenting until there was no more to feed on. Tearing at his dignity. Tearing at his soul. They craved the destruction of his mind. Their hunger would only be satisfied when Daniel’s entire being was derelict. He refused to be their corpse. Starve the vultures.

  Daniel arrived at his sister’s house at eight. “Hi, Dominique.”

  “Hi, how are you?”

  “Surviving,” he replied.

  She hugged him. “You have missed the kids, they went to bed a while ago,” she said.

  “I will see them tomorrow,” he said.

  “They will wake you up early.”

  Daniel rested on the sofa whilst Dominique made tea.

  “Here you go,” she said passing him the mug. “How’s everyone?”

  “Stressed,” he said. “The hospital have put us through hell. No one in the media is human enough to say this is wrong.”

  “Ignore them. Ignore the bullies,” she said.

  “Media have transformed into something very ugly,” he said. “They keep purporting the idea that a free press is good for everyone, yet they have been manipulating people for years. They invade people’s privacy, hack who they like and then say they are the fighters for liberty.”

  “What can you do?”

  “They masquerade as being the enlightenment of the people, exposing how a government might use hacking for national security. The media will hack you if it serves a story, pushes an agenda or, in an extreme case, just to bully.”

  “What can you do? You’re just a bus driver.”

  “Some people in the media are idolised like heroes. They have been treated like gods so long they are now making godly decisions. Deciding someone’s right to live a life. One psychiatrist willing to go along with this shit and they are more powerful than the law. That sick psychiatrist can get away with anything and it all gets covered up.”

  “What can we do? We have no financial backing, godly powers or a medical establishment covering our tracks,” she said.

  “I have been doing some research,” said Daniel. “I think they may have exposed me to radiation. The red cheeks, puffy neck. All my other symptoms.”

  “No one would do that,” she said.

  “No one but a coward. Like someone who brings a knife to a fist fight. A gang setting upon an individual. A poisoner, all pathetic cowards who need a weapon. Without their weapon, their gang, their deceitfulness they are weak.”

  Recovery

  Spring had arrived, dormant trees were returning to life and the garden once again showing signs of colour. The cold winter was left behind. Daniel and his father shared a cold drink on the garden patio. The sun was bright, a beacon of hope for the returning life. Daniel sipped h
is Coke.

  “I think I need a medical solicitor.”

  “Let’s enjoy the sun,” said his father.

  “I now have a cybercrime solicitor who will take my computer and phone for analysis,” said Daniel.

  “That’s a start,” said Harry in between gulps of his beer. “See how that goes first.”

  “I hope my new phone isn’t being hacked.”

  “I’m sure it’s not,” said Harry.

  “You never know,” Daniel said.

  “Let’s hope not, then.”

  “The solicitor will take them in for analysis in the next couple of weeks,” said Daniel.

  “Hopefully they’ll find something.”

  “I’m using two credit cards to fight back,” said Daniel.

  “Be careful, you don’t want to spend too much,” his father advised.

  “I need solicitors.”

  “Maybe you do,” his father agreed.

  “They don’t come cheap but I have a growing number of reasons.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Your credit cards will only take you so far,” said Harry.

  “If I can get a trace as to who has been hacking me, I can do a lot with that.”

  “I hope you find one.”

  “I’m feeling better in myself. My body feels better, that’s a major help.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” said Harry.

  “I think I need a solicitor to help gain access to my notes. They are stalling for time, I believe they are changing them.” Daniel took another sip of his drink. “I can’t waste any time, I need to act, if they did send something they shouldn’t have to the driving authorities, it may be the perfect time to counter strike. They have got away with a lot, drugging me up for one.” Daniel put his head in his hands.

  Harry walked over to Daniel. “Mankind has evolved throughout millennia because he has adapted. A simple molecule, an animal roaming the wild, every man and woman on this planet has to adapt,” said his father. “If people mean you harm, if they are sneaky and deceitful and take everything they can from you, then you adapt.” Daniel looked up at his father. “The situation may manifest in new ways. Then you adapt again. And if they have done all these deceiving acts, then shame on them. They didn’t break you. You didn’t submit to their abuse. You’re here now, a man with dignity. They couldn’t face you, confront you like a man, they were cowards.”

  “Adapt,” Daniel said quietly, looking up to the sun.

  “Adapt. Something has changed,” said Harry, squeezing Daniel’s shoulder to give support and instruction. “You must adapt.”

  Daniel was finishing the painting he had started earlier in the year. The purple sky, the rising sun, a still lake bordered by trees. It was the most peaceful painting he had created. Staring at the art helped him relax. It reminded him of his time with Susana. That peaceful feeling that seemed so long ago. He pulled out his phone and rang her. No answer. She used to be with that agency. I’ll book through them. He rang the number.

  “Hello,” said the female receptionist.

  “Hi, I was wondering if you had a woman on your books.”

  “We have lots of women on our books. What type of woman are you looking for?”

  “A Croatian woman named Susana,” he said.

  “Susana. She flew home last month. She said it was for family reasons.”

  “Oh. Okay thank you.”

  “We have women who look just like Susana.”

  “Thank you, but I will leave it for now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have a nice day. Bye,” she said as she hung up the phone. She’s gone back home.

  The next day Dominique brought the kids up. After settling in they decided to go to the park. They travelled in Dominique’s car. When they arrived Daniel offloaded the kids’ bikes, two pink ones, a blue one and a green one.

  “Have you all got your helmets with you?” asked Daniel.

  “I’ve got mine,” said Luke.

  “Good,” said Dominique. “Where’s yours, Marcus?”

  “I don’t need one.”

  “If you’re going to be riding around the park then you do need one,” said Dominique as she reached into the car for his helmet.

  “I like that helmet,” said Daniel.

  “I think you’re going to wear it aren’t you, Marcus?” said Dominique.

  “Okay.”

  “Good boy,” Dominique said, handing it to him.

  The four were off. “Me and Uncle Danny will be walking, so stay close,” she said.

  “We will,” said Freya.

  “We will stop for sandwiches on the other side of the park,” said Dominique. “How’s things, then, Daniel?”

  “Okay. I see less of the psychotic psychiatrist now.”

  “That must be a relief,” she said.

  “It is.”

  “He definitely put you through it.”

  “I can’t do anything about it,” said Daniel. “Despite their relentless effort, they didn’t break me.”

  “That’s what’s important,” she said. “They tried to crush you, I could see that. Unless a whistle-blower comes forward you can’t do much.”

  “Our family weren’t crushed by them. We were stronger than they thought. As Dad says, adapt.”

  “It’s good to hear you talking like that,” said Dominique.

  “Without my family they would have won,” he said.

  “You escaped their ward and then escaped their clutches,” she said. “Hopefully you can open up a case through your solicitor. Find out if you were hacked, how it was done.”

  “Hopefully,” he said. “If I can get a trace to one of the media contacts who were hacking me, it may open up a can of worms.”

  “Fingers crossed.”

  “I have got the computer and the phone in a set place ready to go to the forensic expert and then maybe a court case,” he said.

  “Good luck,” she said.

  “They took all my pieces before I knew I was in a game of chess. They had me in checkmate before I was at the table,” he said. “I prefer checkers. Play simple and get your pieces back.”

  “I think you are playing the right game,” she said. “Stay close,” Dominique called out.

  “Sorry,” Freya called back as she applied the brakes.

  The walk was pleasant. The bright afternoon sun was shining down on them. Rays of light passed through the tree canopy piercing the shade on the floor beneath the walnut behemoths. Leaves reflected sunlight as a gentle breeze flowed between the branches. Green grass to their left freshly cut for their sense of smell to appreciate. Birds sang in the trees, a tune of nature playing along to their afternoon walk. The lake was still, mirroring the blue sky. Ducks floated alongside the four cyclists, following in the hope of bread. Freya stopped and waited for Daniel to catch up. She opened her rucksack and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Here you go,” she said.

  “That’s a lovely painting, it looks like two people holding hands,” he said.

  “It is,” said Freya. “It’s two people holding hands in a storm.”

  Relapse

  The sun was out brightening the golf course that Daniel and Matt were playing on. “In you go, four over par,” Daniel said.

  “That was a good game,” Matt said. “It’s easy to get back into it.”

  “We will have to come more often,” Daniel said as he placed the putter in amongst the other clubs. The pair made their way back to the car.

  “How is the investing going?” Matt asked.

  “It’s not.”

  “You’re not on top of it, then,” said Matt.

  “I haven’t looked at it. I used to keep a close eye on the markets.”

  “You will have to start now,” said Matt.

  “I think I will,” he said as he put his clubs into the boot of Matt’s car. He got into the car and they made their way home. The roads were clear and they were back within fifteen minutes. Matt
pulled up the drive, Daniel got out and took his clubs out of the boot. As he entered the family home his buoyant mood changed. Something felt wrong. He carried his clubs to the back door. The door was ajar by an inch. Open. He pushed it open further and scanned the garden from the step. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned around. “The door was open,” he said as Matt appeared carrying his own clubs. “It was open.”

  “So what?”

  “Mum’s out, and Dad’s at work,” said Daniel.

  “It was closed when we left actually,” Matt said. “I remember checking it. Take these to the garage,” he said passing the clubs to Daniel. “I will check the house.”

  Daniel took the clubs to the garage, keeping his eyes alert as he went. He returned to find Matt in the kitchen. “There’s nothing missing in the house,” said Matt.

  “Did you check my room?”

  “Yes, your games console is still there so no need to panic,” Matt said. Daniel walked straight for his bedroom. His jaw dropped on entering.

  “I know what they came for,” he said.

  “What? Who?”

  Daniel pointed to the laptop. “My computer and phone have been moved,” Daniel said. “They have moved, someone has accessed them.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. A hacker working for the media. Maybe even Dr Cribson. Fuck.”

  “They haven’t taken anything,” Matt said.

  “Fuck. There’s nothing too low for these sneaky fucks.” Daniel slammed his fist into the wall. “Thieving bastards.”

  “What have they stolen?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? They have stolen evidence. They knew they were in the shit if a trace led back to them. I was so close.” Daniel stormed to the kitchen. “I need to ring the police.”

  Matt followed him. “There is no evidence of a break-in, the locks are not damaged and your equipment is still here.”

  “Fuck,” he shouted.

  “There may still be a trace,” said Matt.

  “Hopefully they were inept at sabotage.”

  “Don’t let it drag you down.”