Beneath the Mask of Sanity

by Mark Phillips

  “But it’s bad in a lot of other ways,” Frank’s Dad said.

  His voice was becoming thin and reedy. It too, was failing to be part of this time and place.

  “Take that sun for instance. No one bothers to look at it during the day. Hell, they tell you not to look at it during the day. It’s only at dusk, like now, that they really look. Why? Because it’s almost gone, that’s why. It’s like that with everything. It was like that with me wasn’t it?”

  Child Frank cried harder. “I’m sorry I didn’t love you more.”

  His dead father bent forward and reached out a hand. The flesh had worn away and the bones were visible. Frank tried to draw back, but he was all mind, no form. The physical part, the Child Frank part, didn’t seem to see anything wrong with his father. He accepted the touch without even a flinch.

  His dad ran his hands through the boy’s hair. Frank felt it, and it was a warm touch, the touch of a live man. A touch of love.

  “Don’t fret about that son. You loved me as well as you could. All of you did. But your real love started after I was gone, didn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Child and adult Frank spoke together.

  “It was like that with Julie too, wasn’t it? You didn’t really love her. You said you did, but you didn’t really. Not until she was gone. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You almost died, but you didn’t die.”

  “I didn’t?” The boy looked up with wonder.

  “No, you didn’t. That bastard didn’t get the chance to finish you off. But he’ll try to if you come for him. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you’ll go for him anyway?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good. That’s what you should do. I knew I raised you right. You go after him, but when you do, don’t go as a shell. Don’t go as the man that you were. The man that lives alone and talks to himself. That guy should have gotten himself killed. You were lucky once, you won’t be again.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Appreciate what you have. Look at the sun even when it isn’t dusk.”

  The apparition faded to translucency. Frank could see the wooden chair that he was sitting on. Each rung, with tiny knots of wood in it, because Frank’s Dad had made it. Like he made the cabin.

  “Dad, I…”

  But he was gone. Nothing but an empty wooden chair.

  “Jesus!”

  This was the voice of a stranger.

  “Jesus. I am the lord. I am your savior. Please gaze upon my little Jesus.”

  Child Frank was gone too. Faded into the past where he belonged. The lake was beginning to fade, but the sun seemed to be on the rise again. Time was moving backwards at the same time that it was marching forwards.

  The sun’s light became blinding. It rose high into the sky.

  “Ladies, you are a fine harem, but the finest of all is Mary Magdalene. Mary, you and I should be joined as one. You and I and little Jesus. Touch my little Jesus.”

  The sun filled Frank’s vision. It blocked out anything that had been. Frank did as his father told him to do, and looked directly into it.

  82.

  Katie opened the door.

  “Hey Mom. There’s company, are you in the shower?”

  Sheila smiled and appeared from the kitchen. “No, I’m not.” She turned her gaze on Bentley. “I’m Mrs. Braddock.”

  She held out her hand and Bentley shook it.

  “Brandon. I feel like we know each other, after the show you put on yesterday. I can see where Katie gets her beauty from.”

  Sheila blushed, and she did look like Katie. She was a girl again, if only for an instant.

  “Well it’s nice to meet you formally,” Sheila said. “Are you two studying again?” Sheila fixed Katie with a knowing stare.

  “Yeah. I just can’t get this math stuff down.”

  “Well you two have fun. I’m just finishing up the laundry and then I’ll put dinner on. You will stay for dinner this time, won’t you Brandon.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Good.” Sheila turned towards her daughter. “Can you help me change out the clothes for a minute?”

  “Mom, I have company.”

  “It’s fine,” Bentley said. I’ll just show myself upstairs. You two take your time.”

  “Sorry,” Katie said.

  Bentley wrung his hands to show his compliancy and walked towards the stairs. He reached the bottom, but didn’t walk up. Instead he listened to their footfalls march towards the laundry room. A door snicked shut. Bentley headed for the backyard.

  83.

  “Can someone take care of that lunatic?” Dunham asked.

  A tall man, with long brown hair and a bushy beard, walked down the halls of the hospital. His voice was loud, but not a scream. It was the voice of a stage actor or a professional singer. It carried through the halls but in the even tones of one that simply speaks. He wore a long grey trench coat, with nothing else. His feet were bare and looked as though he’d walked through the remnants of a fire. Soot, thick and grey, covered them.

  “I am Jesus. I am your Lord and savior. I want you to see my little Jesus.” The man threw open his coat to reveal his naked body. His chest was scrawny. The skin had a taut look to it and the bones were clearly visible. He did indeed resemble a crucified savior. But the main attraction to this show was the man’s penis. Standing at attention for the entire world to see.

  “Touch my little Jesus, it will heal you.”

  The nurses backed away, but, Dunham noticed, they didn’t avert their eyes. Many of them held small smiles on their faces.

  “Trevor, Mark!” One of the nurses yelled. “Can you come in here please?”

  “You are a fine harem, but Mary Magdalene is the finest of them all.” The man had closed his coat again and he was staring at a young nurse, with raven-black hair.

  Dunham looked down at Frank. He didn’t want to leave his side. When he looked back, the officer that had been posted at the door was stepping forward.

  Good. You deal with it.

  “Mary, you and I are destined to be joined as one. Touch the little Jesus.” The man threw his coat opened again, and the one that the man called Mary Magdalene laughed. She actually laughed. Her hand stole to her mouth to hide the smile, but the snickers that came through were unmistakable.

  The officer had reached the man now. Down the hall, two men in green scrubs approached as well.

  “Mary, the little Jesus calls out for you. I call out for you. Together you and I will create the most holy doctrine.”

  Dunham watched on in fascination as the two male nurses and the cop grabbed the man.

  “Romans!” He shouted. Now his voice was a scream. There was an agony in it that Dunham didn’t think someone who was merely acting could ever muster.

  “Mary, it’s the Romans.” The man held out his arm, trying to grab for the nurse. “Don’t let them take me away Mary!”

  The nurses had begun to pull on the man’s arms. The cop was standing in front of him, ready to subdue him if need be.

  The man paused for a second, and then looked up at the ceiling. His mouth moved, but no sound escaped.

  “I understand,” He said. The man looked first to one nurse and then the other. “You men take me away. The holy doctrine will be fulfilled.” He looked at the nurse and there were tears streaming down his face. “Mary, after I’m gone you will lead my people, the followers of the one true word. It’s up to you to spread our message so that all mankind may benefit.”

  The nurse stared. Her smile had vanished. She had pushed back a little from the man, trying to hide behind the other nurses, but his eyes followed her. There was no escaping it.

  The man nodded. “Mary understands. You may take me away now.”

  The male nurses led the man down the hallway. He came willingly enough, but their hands were wrapped tight, in case he might try to break away.

  “What the
hell was that?” The cop asked.

  One of the nurses looked at him, as if noticing him for the first time. “Just some nut. They found him walking down the center of the road, talking about Jesus. He was in the EC when I came in today. He said he was looking for Mary.”

  “Guess you’re it,” the cop said.

  Dunham stood at the door. It was one of the first times he had left Frank’s bedside since he’d come to the hospital. Faintly, there was a noise behind him. At first, he was so mesmerized by the scene that he didn’t connect it to his friend. And besides, the noise didn’t sound at all human.

  Then the noise grew louder, it was toneless and sounded like someone gargling with mouthwash. Dunham turned around and saw Frank sitting up in bed. His eyes were opened as was his mouth. The eyes seemed fine, that same steady blue that Dunham had seen time and time again over the years. The mouth was a different story. Some blood had congealed around the edges, but that wasn’t the biggest thing. No, the biggest thing was the small stub at the back. The stub that should have continued much farther.

  “Frank, Jesus you’re awake!”

  The cop turned his head. He burst in through the door and shoved Dunham aside.

  “Mr. Miles. Can you hear me?”

  Frank moved his mouth; there were no words, only that inhuman, toneless noise.

  Dunham stood in the doorway, unable to move.

  The cop reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tablet of paper and a pen. He handed it to Frank.

  “I’m Officer Walker; we’re investigating your case. Did you see your attacker?”

  Frank nodded.

  Dunham felt something move in his chest. It was as if his internal organs had decided to pack up and shift position.

  “Can you write down everything you saw?”

  Frank reached out with a hand that was shaking and grabbed the paper. He flipped open the red cover and took the pen.

  Officer Walker and Dunham watched as Frank wrote on the paper. Time stretched out. It was as if Frank was composing a novel before their eyes. Finally, he put the pen down at his side and tore off the sheet of paper.

  His eyes searched the room, found Dunham and he stretched out his arm towards him.

  Officer Walker gave Dunham a passing glance and then reached for the note. Frank pulled back and hugged the paper to his chest. He shook his head violently and then held out the paper again.

  “Mr. Miles, we are investigating your case, I need that information.”

  Walker reached out for the paper again and again Frank pulled it back. He gestured wildly with his free hand at Dunham.

  “Look, you can sit here and argue with him for the rest of your life if you want, but I know Frank, he’s not going to let your read it until I have. So why don’t you just cut the shit and let me look.”

  Walker looked at Frank, then back to Dunham and then back to Frank again. He stepped back. “Fine, but you give me that piece of paper as soon as you get it. This is our jurisdiction.”

  Dunham nodded and stepped forward. He took the note and scanned it with his eyes. Walker stood behind him and tried to read it over his shoulder.

  Dunham read the note twice, not able to comprehend what he was seeing at first. He handed the paper to Walker and looked at Frank.

  “Are you sure?”

  Frank nodded.

  “Christ. I have to go.”

  84.

  Sheila closed the door, and her demeanor changed. It was as if she were morphing into another being.

  “What the hell are you thinking?”

  Katie took a step back. “What do you mean?”

  “What is he doing here?”

  “Brandon is my friend. I thought that my friends could come over when I wanted them to.”

  “Did you forget that your other friend, Brenda, is missing?”

  “No, but what can I do?”

  “The police want us to come down and give a statement. They want to talk to you, Katie. You were the last person to see Brenda.”

  “Brandon was with us, they’ll want to talk to him too.”

  “You didn’t tell me that.”

  Katie rolled her eyes. “Mom, it was yesterday. Brandon saw you after you came out of the bathroom. Jeeze, don’t you think?”

  Sheila slapped Katie. It rung out like a piece of wood popping in a fire. The two women stood looking at each other for a second. Then, Katie turned to open the door, but Sheila’s hand clamped down on her arm.

  “I’m not done talking to you yet.”

  “Fuck you! I hate you!”

  Katie pulled away, but Sheila’s grip held, neither of them noticed the bray of the phone in the background. “Your best friend is missing and you don’t even care because some bald boy likes you?”

  “He had cancer you fucking bitch!”

  Sheila dropped her hand, but Katie made no effort to leave. The plane of attack had shifted and now it was Katie that moved towards her mother.

  “You don’t have any idea how I feel. Brandon and I are both scared. We thought that it would be better if we were scared together. What the hell did you want me to do? Sit in my room and wait.”

  “It was good enough when your father was killed.”

  “I hate you!”

  Katie turned and threw the door open. As she stormed out, she heard sirens in the distance but didn’t pay any attention. Sheila followed Katie out and swung her around.

  “I’m sorry Katie. I think we should all go down to the police station and give our statements. It’s just…” Sheila trailed off and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s just I’m not very good at this. I can’t deal with crisis like this. What’s the world coming to when…”

  Sheila stopped. The sirens had grown. They were now a flat blare that seemed to be coming ever closer.

  “Did you call the police to come here?” Katie asked.

  Sheila shook her head. “No, and even if I did, they wouldn’t be running their sire…” The blood ran out of Sheila’s face and she was unable to finish. Her eyes fixed on Katie’s. “Where’s Karen?”

  85.

  Dunham ran out of the hospital before he realized that he didn’t have a car here. He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and held down the number one.

  “Yucca Police, is this an emer…”

  “Becca, this is Dunham. Get Pappas.”

  “Chief, where have you…”

  “Get Pappas now!”

  There was a hard click as he was put on hold, and then a second later Rick came on the line.

  “Chief? What’s going on?”

  “Call the San Ignace police now! Tell them to get to the Braddock house. This is priority one. Do you understand me?”

  “Sure Chief, what’s going on?”

  “Then call the Braddock house. Tell them not to let in any young bald men in the house. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, do it now and then call me back when it’s done.”

  Dunham closed his phone but kept it in his hand. He had left the hospital room as soon as he’d handed the note off. Walker was probably already on the phone to his people, maybe he was trying to get more information from Frank, but all they needed to know had been in that note. He couldn’t get the words out of his mind.

  Young kid, bald, shot me. Serial Killer. Braddocks are in trouble. Have to stop him.

  The vibration of his phone pulled him out of his own mind. Dunham opened it.

  “Did you do it?”

  “I called San Ignace; they’re sending a car out there.”

  “Did you call the Braddock house?”

  “Yeah, there was no answer. I left a message on their machine.”

  All the wind went out of Dunham’s body. He deflated like a balloon and for a second he couldn’t speak.

  “Get a car over here and pick me up. Now!”

  “I’m on my way.”

  86.

  Karen sat at her table. The tea set was in the center. Her lar
gest teddy bear sat in the other seat. He was about half as tall as Karen, with matted brown fur from a time that she’d left him at a campsite.

  The realization hadn’t hit her until they were nearly halfway home. When it did, she pleaded for them to turn back. At first, Mommy hadn’t wanted to. But Daddy was driving and he had already begun to turn off the freeway so they could go back.

  “We can just get you another one, sweetie?” Mommy had said.

  Big tears dripped from Karen’s eyes. “But I want my Mr. Snuggly. I want him back.”

  So they’d turned around and driven back. A hard rain had begun to fall and it took them nearly ten minutes of searching before they located the bear. He was sitting under a tree and had missed most of the rain, but he was still wet. Mommy complained about how bad he smelled, but Karen had smiled and hugged the bear, soaking herself in the process.

  Later that night, when Daddy had come to tuck her in, she gave him a big kiss. She clung Mr. Snuggly to her chest. Daddy had rubbed his hand on Mr. Snuggly’s arm.

  “You love this bear don’t you?” He’d asked.

  “Like I love you,” Karen had replied.

  “I know,” Daddy said. “That’s why I knew we needed to go back and get him.”

  Karen poured the tea and set a cup in front of Mr. Snuggly.

  “Here Daddy,” she said. “Have your tea. I made it aspecial. It’s her-bell tea.”

  “I love you Daddy. I miss you so much. You’re here with me, right? Like Mommy says.”

  The door to the house opened. Karen spun around in her chair. It was the bald boy that Katie had brought over yesterday.

  “Hello,” Bentley said. He smiled, but Karen didn’t like that smile at all.

  “Get out!” She shouted.

  Bentley raised his hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. It’s just that I saw you out here and I wanted to come play with you.”

  Karen’s eyes slit. “How come you’re wearing gloves?”