Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 3

by J. M. Benjamin

  On the previous evening, as they arrived, Treacherous peered out the side of the police car window and noticed the sign in front of the institution. He was not familiar with the first word on the sign, so he could not pronounce it in his head or determine its meaning. It wasn’t until he was escorted to the front of the large house and met at the door by two men—one Hispanic, the other black, and both dressed in all-blue uniforms—that he realized he was at a hospital and not a juvenile facility.

  He watched as one of the officers thumbed through some papers on a clipboard that had been handed to him by one of the orderlies. After flipping through the pages, the officer signed the last page. He also handed one of the men a manila envelope. Treacherous was sure it was his mother’s journals. He found it strange when one of the officers released the handcuffs from his wrists. Then, the officer and his partner made their way back to the car, leaving Treacherous standing there with the two orderlies. The only thing that he could conjure up was that he was being given another chance and was being placed into a securer group home, which may have been a part of the hospital. That was his theory as to why the place had favored a house, he had thought at the time.

  He looked around as he followed the two men farther into the ward. Kids in his age group were sprinkled throughout the room. All eyes were on him as he glided through the hallway, matching the two men’s strides. Why are they all looking at me so strange? Is something wrong? Do I have something on my face? Treacherous wondered. They actually looked odd to him. Although he felt fine, they made him feel self-conscious. He looked down at himself and did a quick body scan while wiping his face. He realized he was good.

  As they got to the end of the hall, Treacherous couldn’t help but notice a girl off in the corner. Her skin was the color of caramel. She was alone and staring out of a huge window.

  “Hi, I’m Sally. What’s your name?”

  His attention was diverted by a young white girl who had appeared out of nowhere and was now standing in front of him. Treacherous stared at her oddly as she stood just inches away from his face, waving and smiling. He noticed that she still had her baby teeth and they appeared to be razor sharp, like that of a vampire’s. Her skin was even pale like one, noticed Treacherous. Her hair was dirty blond and she wore it in pigtails.

  “Sally, go sit down,” one of the men instructed as they led Treacherous to an open window where a heavyset black lady sat. She wore a nurse’s hat on top of her jet-black hair pulled back in a bun and was dressed all in white. Treacherous instantly caught the disgusted look the lady shot at him when she looked up. Her name tag read ARETHA JOHNSON. She rolled her eyes at Treacherous as she stood up. She instructed the two orderlies to follow her. Treacherous noticed how her shoes made a funny noise while her wide hips swayed from left to right as she walked. She came to a complete stop once she reached the metal door that had 2A written on it.

  “This will be your room,” she spat at Treacherous. “The doctor will see you in the morning,” she added once Treacherous was inside.

  Then, she exited the room and slammed the door behind her. Treacherous lay back on the bed. It was barely big enough for an average-size kid, let alone someone his size. He tossed his hands behind his head and gazed up at the ceiling. Images of his mother and father appeared. They looked down lovingly at him. He smiled at their sudden presence. Then, he heard his mother’s voice say, “You gotta trust Mommy on this, okay, baby?”

  Those were the last words he’d heard before drifting off.

  “Were you able to get any rest?” Treacherous heard Dr. Flannigan ask, bringing him completely back to the present.

  Treacherous pretended not to hear the question. He just sat there and stared out the window behind the doctor. His actions caused the doctor to turn and look out the window too.

  “It’s going to be a beautiful day in Richmond today.” Dr. Flannigan smiled. “Don’t you think?”

  His question received no response.

  “Treacherous, I understand you’re afraid and—”

  “I’m not scared of nothing,” Treacherous lashed out, before Dr. Flannigan could finish his sentence, catching him by surprise.

  “I apologize,” the doctor offered. “Yes, you seem to be a brave young man, especially after all that you’ve gone through over the past couple of years,” he agreed, trying a different approach. He scanned Treacherous’s file.

  Treacherous made no indication that he agreed with the doctor. Although he had previously read the majority of what the file contained, Dr. Flannigan reviewed the information pertaining to Treacherous and his parents. He shook his head as he skimmed through the news clipping with the headline BONNIE & CLYDE OF THE NEW MILLENNIUM. He remembered watching the standoff between Treacherous’s father and the authorities over fifteen years ago on the news and wondered what had driven the couple to such lengths. As he came to the next clipping about Treacherous’s mother, he was filled with sympathy as he viewed the photo under the headline that read ARMORED CAR ROBBER GANGSTER MOM THREATENS TO KILL SON. As a psychiatrist, the picture of Treacherous’s mother holding a gun to her son’s head spoke volumes to the doctor. He was sure the psyches of both of young Treacherous’s parents were unbalanced and abnormal and wondered how much had been passed on genetically. He had read the summary of what had taken place between Treacherous and the deceased kid at the group home, but the photos told another story, and that was the story the doctor was interested in.

  “Treacherous, I’d like to ask you some questions,” the doctor said. “Now, these are not trick questions or questions to try to hurt you or offend you. If you don’t like the question, then you don’t have to answer it, and I’ll move on to the next one. Fair enough?”

  There was a brief pause.

  “I guess you didn’t like my first question.” The doctor smiled for the second time. Again, he was met with silence.

  “Treacherous, do you know why you are here?” Dr. Flannigan asked.

  Treacherous stared at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. The fact of the matter was that Treacherous had no idea why he was at the hospital. Still, he didn’t answer the doctor.

  Dr. Flannigan sensed that Treacherous was pondering something. “Treacherous, a judge ordered you here and requested a psychological evaluation be done on you. The only way I can do that and help you, too, is if you let me. I understand all of this may be quite confusing to you, but, if you just answer a few questions, things may become a little clearer for the both of us. Then, we can figure out how to make things better,” Dr. Flannigan suggested empathetically.

  Treacherous studied the doctor as he spoke. The words “make things better” resonated in Treacherous’s young mind. He was still trying to process what had happened back at the group home and why. It was all a blur to him. He wanted to answer the doctor, but, for some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he responded with a shake of his head.

  “I don’t understand,” Dr. Flannigan said, realizing he had just made a breakthrough. “Are you saying no, you’re not going to answer the questions, or, no, you don’t know why you’re here?”

  Treacherous rolled his eyes in frustration. “Why am I here?” he answered with a question.

  Now, the doctor felt he was getting somewhere. “You’re here because you hurt someone, Treacherous, and you hurt him really bad, and nobody but you knows why. We’re trying to see if you meant to or not.” Dr. Flannigan leaned forward with his hands clasped and continued, “And it is my job to find out with your help, of course, so you never hurt anyone else again. So, can you tell me why you attacked the young man back at the group home?”

  Treacherous listened as the doctor spoke. His question caused Treacherous’s mind to roam. Images of Eric played in his mind. He could hear the words that had triggered him. They had echoed in his head right before he launched his attack. Then, he saw the final scene with him on top of Eric, plunging the ink pen into his neck repeatedly. He watched in awe. He could not bel
ieve that he and the person he was watching were one and the same. It was as if he were having an out-of-body experience. He witnessed Eric’s blood spray his deranged-looking face. From there, everything seemed to move at warp speed. Then, all of a sudden, Treacherous’s mind went pitch black. The doctor’s voice brought him back to the present as he regained his vision. Treacherous noticed the doctor was holding up a photo.

  “So, tell me what made you so angry that it caused you to react in this manner.”

  The photo was the same one of Eric the chief had shown him back at the holding cell. Treacherous looked at the doctor and shrugged his shoulders. Then, he shifted his eyes to his lap.

  “Of course you know,” Dr. Flannigan offered. “Just take your time and think. What did he say or do to you to upset you so much?”

  Again, Treacherous responded with a shrug of the shoulders. He could feel his armpits beginning to perspire and little beads of sweat forming on his forehead despite the air condition doing a good job of keeping the office at a cool temperature.

  “Did he call you any names or threaten to do anything to you?” Dr. Flannigan continued.

  Treacherous shook his head just enough for Dr. Flannigan to see. Dr. Flannigan let out a light sigh.

  “There had to be something, Treacherous.” He leaned forward with his fingers intertwined. “I’m having a difficult time believing that a young man as bright and humble as you would just attack someone for no reason at all,” Dr. Flannigan stated compassionately.

  Treacherous raised his head and stared the doctor square in his eyes. He could not bring himself to trust the doctor.

  Dr. Flannigan met his stare. After a few long seconds, he leaned back and gathered up Treacherous’s file. As far as he was concerned, that day’s session was over. Although he had broken ground, in his mind, he had really gotten nowhere. Just as he was about to close Treacherous’s file, he noticed out of his peripheral vision that Treacherous was watching him. When he looked up, Treacherous quickly lowered his gaze, but not before Dr. Flannigan could catch what he had been staring at. At that moment, a bright light lit up, and it, suddenly, all made sense to the doctor.

  “I’ll tell you what I think,” Dr. Flannigan stated. When Treacherous raised his head to look at him, he continued, “I think that young man Eric said something that hurt your feelings so bad and made you so angry that you didn’t know how to control your feelings and emotions, so you just reacted.”

  Dr. Flannigan studied Treacherous’s body language. He knew the statement had gotten Treacherous’s attention.

  “I, also, believe that you were not aware, at the time, that you were hurting Eric the way you were or that you meant to take his life. I believe you only lashed out against him to make him stop saying whatever hurtful things he had said or was saying to you. And since you seem to be a very strong young man, I really don’t think he could have said anything about you that could have hurt your feelings or upset you. But . . .” Dr. Flannigan let his word linger. “I do believe that it would hurt or upset you if he said something about someone you loved or cared about, especially if that person or people are no longer here.”

  Judging by the slight change on Treacherous’s face, Dr. Flannigan knew he had scratched more than just the surface. Treacherous did his best to remain stone-faced, but he knew his eyes had confirmed the doctor’s theory.

  “Treacherous, did Eric say something bad about your parents?” Dr. Flannigan asked, patting the folder lying on his desk. “I need to know if you want me to help you.”

  Treacherous’s eyes glanced at the folder in front of the doctor once again. Then, he looked back at the doctor.

  “Treacherous, tell me!” Dr. Flannigan insisted. “Did you attack Eric Allen because he said something about your parents?”

  Treacherous’s breathing increased, and his chest swelled with each breath. His head throbbed as a sharp pain jolted the side of his left temple. Dr. Flannigan noticed the transition and slipped his hand underneath his desk.

  “Treacherous, try to calm yourself. It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m only here to help you. I just need you to answer the question. What did Eric say about your—”

  “Mind your fuckin’ business, mu’fucka!” The words boomed out of Treacherous’s mouth like a bullet from a . 44 Magnum as he shot up out of his chair.

  Fear displayed itself all over Dr. Flannigan’s Hershey-toned face. “Treacherous, please!” he pleaded, but his words fell on deaf ears.

  Treacherous had transformed into a blind rage. He was now foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. “You don’t know shit about me or my family!” he bellowed.

  Tears now streamed down his face. He grabbed hold of the closest object within reach. Dr. Flannigan pushed back from his desk and stood horrified on the opposite side. He backpedaled away from his desk until he felt his back hit the wall.

  “If you ask me anything else about my family, I’ll fuckin’—”

  The dosage of the drug in the needle the nurse injected into Treacherous had an immediate effect on him. Within seconds he was sedated. His body crashed to the floor, making a loud thud. He was in such a rage that he never heard the nurse and orderlies enter the office. The puny doctor was thankful for the silent alarm that had been placed under his desk for situations such as this. That was the first time he’d had to use it since it had been installed ten years ago.

  “Are you all right, sir?” Orderly Ron asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Please just take him to his room.” Dr. Flannigan waved them off as he gathered up Treacherous’s file and manila folder. “And make sure you strap him down for the night. I don’t want any more incidents,” he added as he opened the file cabinet and placed the file and manila envelope inside another folder that contained Treacherous’s name.

  “Yes, sir,” Orderly Joe said, nodding.

  “The dose I gave him will last through the evening,” Nurse Johnson assured the doctor.

  Treacherous could hear the sounds of voices but could not move. He lay helpless on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. He could feel numerous hands grabbing hold of him and could feel his body being lifted into the air. Treacherous’s vision was somewhat blurry from the injection. As the orderlies carried him out of the doctor’s office, an image of his mother appeared on the ceiling. Their eyes met, and, for that brief moment, that was all that had mattered to him. He saw the half smile appear across his mother’s face. He noticed her lips were moving, but he could not make out the words nor could he hear them, but that did not matter, because, in his mind, he had already imagined what she was saying to him. Treacherous returned her smile. Then, he closed his eyes. As he drifted off, he knew there was nothing to be worried about; his mother had confirmed that everything was going to be okay.

  Chapter 5

  A month and a half later

  “Treacherous! Time to get up. Today’s your lucky day,” the orderly announced.

  The sound of the door to his room being unlocked had already caused his eyes to shoot open, rendering him wide awake.

  “Doc says you can come out to the dayroom.”

  It had been nearly six weeks since the incident in Dr. Flannigan’s office. For the first ten days, Treacherous had been strapped to his bed and intravenously fed a high dosage of Thorazine twice a day to ease his aggression. Once he had been released from the restraints, they served him the drug in liquid form. Treacherous did not know what was happening to him, but he knew the drug was the cause of it. The drug made him sluggish and somewhat unbalanced. He often found himself zoning out and drooling.

  Initially, he would just sit and stare whenever the doctor came for their early morning sessions. He knew the longer he rebelled and resisted the doctor’s treatment, the longer he would remain in the state he was in. After awhile, he simply gave in and responded to Dr. Flannigan’s questions with a nod or shake of the head. As a reward, Dr. Flannigan changed his medication dosage. It was not his intent to have Treacherous become dependent on th
e drug or to cause an imbalance, so he reduced the dosage gradually until, finally, he was switched to a milder medication with fewer side effects.

  A few weeks prior, the doctor had informed Treacherous that the judge had mandated him to undergo treatment and be remanded to the mental hospital, based on the evaluation he had submitted. Treacherous was told that another evaluation would be submitted to the courts when he reached the age of eighteen. Hearing that he had to be at the facility for almost another three years caused Treacherous to become a little depressed. He knew the only way he was going to make it out of the institution was by doing what he needed to do to convince the doctor and the judge that he should be released, and that became his plan.

  Treacherous rolled over and peered at the orderly. He thought his ears had deceived him.

  “I’m serious, man. I just got the green light to let you come out,” Orderly Ron beamed. “It’ll do you some good,” he added. “Between me and you,” he said, lowering his voice, “I never agreed with them keeping you locked in here like this in the first place. This ain’t no way to treat a kid, regardless of what you did. It’s inhumane.”

  Treacherous knew that Orderly Ron meant every word he had just spoken. Treacherous didn’t like any of the other staff members, but he half-assed liked Ron. From day one, Ron had been nice to him, while the others treated him like he was an animal or a retard. It was Orderly Ron who had actually increased his knowledge about motorcycles, thanks to the magazines he often brought in for him to read after he had bounced back to his normal self. Treacherous had longed for the day to be let out of the room and allowed to roam around in a much bigger space, and the day had finally come. The small five-by-eight room made him feel like a caged dog.

  Treacherous flung the covers off of himself. He stood and stretched. Then, he kneeled beside his bed. Orderly Ron was used to seeing Treacherous perform his early morning ritual. He backed out of Treacherous’s room and let him be.