“Dinner?”
“When?”
. . .
We met at sunset, far away from the chaos of the city, in a spacious restaurant with high ceilings and tables adorned with purple orchids, all faintly lit by the playful flicker of candlelight.
The river was visible through ceiling-high windows set between brocade-covered columns. I thought that it was an unnecessarily romantic atmosphere. But Hellen seemed pleased.
“Dr. Reich, an excellent choice. You must be experienced in charming your patients outside of the clinic.” She shaped the words without taking her eyes off of me. Her big blue eyes were enhanced by the dark blue and green sheen of her dress.
“Coincidence,” I explained. “This is the first time I’ve come, and, well…just a coincidence.” I was playing shy for reasons I didn’t understand myself.
Hellen took a drink of her wine. It was red as rubies and it accentuated the dark red of her lips. “I may be young,” she said, “but I know when to believe in coincidences.” She smiled.
I played with my napkin and turned the glass in my hand before taking a gulp of cognac.
“You’re very different than other men. You’re a person who listens to others without getting bored.”
I thought back to my office and how often I retreated to my articles during my patients’ long, senseless talks.
“Of course, what makes you interesting…no…attractive,” she corrected herself. “What makes you attractive is not only this characteristic of yours. A man must behave consistently well, but he also must take care of his woman. He must protect her and respect her thoughts. That’s what I look for in a partner, but I haven’t found it.”
She studied me and I met her eyes.
“Okay, sexuality is important at some point,” she said, “and one must have it, but to have it with someone who respects you is well…more…”
“Mrs. Schumann,” I interrupted. “It’s so nice that you have the same relaxed attitude you have in our therapy sessions, but isn’t this your main problem, being too relaxed while talking to others? As you know, being so honest out in society can leave you defenseless.”
“See? You’ve just supported my point.” Hellen said, lighting up. “You’re being protective, being so careful not to hurt me, listening to whatever I say attentively and thinking about it. This is what makes you attractive.”
It was clear Hellen understood only what she wanted to understand. I tried to test her awareness by disturbing her a bit.
“Are you that explicit when you’re intimate with your husband?”
She paused and took a deep breath. “It’s like always, I mean, of course I go on talking to express myself. Is that strange? I always think that when two people are that close to each other, what’s talked about is more enjoyable.”
“How do you think your husband reacts?”
“He doesn’t participate much. He just focuses on the activity.”
“But you can still be together?”
“I’m sorry. What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you have a happy and satisfying sex life?”
“He is the first and only man in my life. What can I compare him to? Doesn’t everybody experience something similar in sexual intercourse?”
I tried to change the topic.
“The food is very delicious, isn’t it? And the service is really good. We must come here more often,” I said.
“Of course,” she said, now distracted. “Whenever you want.”
I wondered whether we were flirting, and if she was already emotionally invested in us being together. I hoped to avoid such entanglements. I decided to get to my real reason for the dinner
“Maria Orsic,” I started.
“Sorry?” Hellen asked, stopping in the middle of drinking her wine.
“The Vril community…you mentioned…” I said, recovering. I had started poorly.
“Yes, of course,” Hellen confirmed.
“When did you see them last?” I asked.
“Two weeks ago, just as I told you. I always visit them when I come here.”
She was clearly surprised by the sudden change of topic, but she continued “If you hadn’t given me this dinner invitation, I’d be with them now. Maybe it’s fate.”
“I don’t believe in fate or coincidences. I think everything results from conscious decisions.” I was being too harsh. I treaded carefully. “Of course, coincidences also have a part in the development of surprising events…”
Hellen winked and gave me a big smile.
“You can say anything that comes into your mind, Dr. Reich.”
“Can you tell me about them?”
Hellen blushed now and looked pleased.
“Your superior talent in charming a woman really amazes me. You’re making an effort to learn about something I’m interested in just to get to know me.”
“So?” I pressed, hoping she would tell me more.
“It’s enough that you’ve thought about it,” she continued, “but if you’re not interested in such things, I don’t want to torture you. We can do more pleasant things together.” Her slender, delicate fingers touched my hand.
“No, really, I am interested.”
“Wow. You don’t belong to this world. You are really showing interest in me and doing it so naturally.”
Her coyness was tying me up in knots and she knew it.
“If you are really interested, Dr. Reich,” she said, “I will be attending a meeting two weeks from now. Perhaps it might be useful for your research. Of course, you may need to cancel your appointments.”
“I can do that,” I said.
“Really?” she asked. “I’m excited now. I have a lot of things I’m going to tell you.”
She grabbed my hand tightly, smiling.
I thought to ask more but I kept quiet so as not to give myself away.
On the river, the road lights reflected off the water as a small ferry disappeared into the distance. The scent of the purple orchids wafted in the light breeze and pleasant shadows cast by the candlelight flickered over the face of the nice woman in front of me. But my only thought was of Maria.
Spring 1920, Vienna
Wilhelm Reich / Maria Orsic
Ribot’s Law says that the most recent memory you have is the first thing you will forget. Therefore, the last thing I will forget about Maria Orsic is the first time I saw her.
The Great War was over and our army was defeated. My young soul had been mangled, and I felt the angst and hopelessness of defeat.
I aimlessly wandered over Vienna, trying to adapt to life again, engaging in only the most basic social relations with the people around me. I turned inward and breathed in the depressed ethos of my defeated and shattered country. It wasn’t until the age of twenty-three that I finally pulled myself together and started medical school.
To finance my education, I began working nights as a nurse in a mental hospital. The hospital management, crushed under the patient load and the lack of qualified male personnel after the war, accepted me easily. After that, all my time and energy was consumed by the intensive coursework during the day and the shifts in the overcrowded hospital at night.
One night, I was doing my late-night room checks in the women’s ward of the hospital. The nurse had told me it was a calm night, so I was relaxed in my procedure. After a quick check, I planned to study a bit and get a good night’s sleep before class the next morning.
When I entered Room 17, the pale light of the ceiling lamp made long, dark shadows across the room. All the beds were full, and an unforgettably pungent smell emanated from the collection of restlessly sleeping bodies.
As I headed deeper into the room, I saw a young woman with blonde hair down to her waist sitting upright on the edge of her bed looking out of the window. The rain outside slid in drops over the window, and far away trees swayed in the wind, throwing more shadows about the room. The blonde woman sat gazing at the dark sky beyond the trees. As I app
roached, I felt a warm glow inside of me and, when she turned to me, my heart gave a slight spasm. I saw her face, drawn as if by a fine pencil, and, at the center, two deep blue eyes. For a long time, I stood there, stunned, keeping my gaze steady, hoping not to spoil the moment.
I had never seen her before, but it was as if I had always known her.
The young girl had no response to my stare and she returned her gaze to the upper corner of the window, and beyond to the dark sky. I decided to stop standing there like a fool and again become a member of the hospital staff.
“You need to sleep now,” I managed to say. “Come on, lie down and fall asleep, you can look out of the window as much as you want in the morning.”
The young girl didn’t change her position. It was as if she hadn’t heard me.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
Silence.
I took a step and stood between the window and her gaze.
“Your na –” I couldn’t even finish my question.
“Maria,” she said with a slight foreign accent and a voice with such a heavenly timbre that I labored to breathe normally and struggled to speak.
“Maria?”
“Maria Orsic . . . I’m from Zagreb.”
“What are you doing here?”
“My father is a soldier; he brought me to Vienna after the war. The doctors and hospitals here were said to be good.” She was speaking in halting phrases, choosing her words from a language she didn’t yet command.
“How long have you been here?” I was using all the advantages of my position and for a moment, I questioned my motives.
“Three days and one night,” she said.
I was so confused that I took some time to remember my question and comprehend her answer.
“Okay, let it be three days and two nights and try to sleep,” I said.
I reached out and gently pressed her soft shoulders down towards the bed letting my hands linger on her fragile shoulders longer than was necessary. It was hard to let go.
She wasn’t sleeping when I left her, and as I went out of the dark room into the dim corridor, I hoped she was looking at me. As I walked along rapidly, I felt an indescribable excitement as thoughts raced through my mind.
…
For the next day, I wandered around elated. It was impossible to focus. I began putting off all my other duties so I could go to the hospital early. I invented jobs for myself and just wandered around wasting time. I lived in my own dream and formed a new habit of talking to myself, even in the middle of crowds.
I did my best to keep myself away from the women’s ward and tried to have some conversations with a few staff members, but it didn’t work. Time didn’t seem to pass, and I couldn’t think about anything but going back to Room 17. To distract myself, I entered Room 16 and paced across the floor, putting my hands in and out of my pockets, walking fast at first, and then more slowly. The room was empty except for an old woman with messy hair who was engaged in talking to her fingers. Another elderly woman full of wrinkles stared at the ceiling, and another patient sat following my movements. I approached the patient who was staring at me, and I tried to ask a few questions, but her answers were indecipherable.
I went and stood by the window and watched the sun go down over the garden while I traced my fingers in the dust on the window ledge. No longer willing to wait, I turned back and left the room as if I had important things to do. I opened the door to Room 17 without any hesitation and went inside, trying my best not to look at the bed by the window. I instead approached the beds that were closer to the door, like a child saving his dessert for last. Lingering as long as I could, I finally came to her bed, but I saw that it was empty. I rapidly scanned the room around me. She wasn’t there. Her bed was well made and looked like it hadn’t been used for a long while. In fact, there was no trace of her at all. I panicked at the idea that she had been discharged, and thinking the worst, I headed to the door in desperation, fearful of the imminent emptiness of my life.
Hurrying out of the room, I collided with Maria and all of the breath inside me drained out. My heartbeat echoed through my dizziness. She was okay and much more composed than I.The collision brought us inches apart, and I noticed the simplicity of her perfect face: her pert nose, full lips, and her dancing blue eyes. I felt as if I was falling through space.
I stumbled back half a step, and in my clumsiness, blocked the door. Our eyes locked for a long moment, and then she made her way around me, stepping aside with her eyes on the floor. Although I didn’t want to go, I was unable to do anything but leave. The door closed and I went away, carrying her pleasant scent with me.
I desperately wanted to go back in to see her, but I forced myself to go to the garden for some fresh air. As I sat in the darkness on the bench near the edge of the road, I thought about those disgusting relationships between doctors and their patients and made myself remember that I wasn’t even a doctor. As I ruminated, I dug angrily at the ground with the toes of my shoes until the smell of tobacco shook me out of my reverie.
“Are you okay?” a voice said.
I immediately recognized the voice, but all I could see was a single bright ember moving toward me in the darkness. It was Eldwin Meyer, a skinny decrepit caregiver still allowed to work despite his old age. It was said that the hospital had been built around him. The old caregiver had thin white hair and pale blue eyes that gave him a furtive but intelligent look. There was talk of Eldwin sampling the patients’ medicine, but he ignored the gossip and never shirked his duties.
“How are you doing, Eldwin?” I asked.
“Fine, but you look depressed, young man.”
“No…,” I said weakly before Eldwin sat down next to me. “Just fatigue.”
“If you’re tired, then we should all die.” He scoffed before flicking his cigarette into the grass.
I had no response.
Eldwin watched me for a moment and then he smirked.
“Have you seen the Croatian girl?” he asked.
“Which one?” I asked, playing as dumb as I could.
“Come on, if I notice her at this age, you surely know about her. The quiet girl in Room 17.”
“Oh . . . ,” I lied, “I guess I saw her last night. . . . Who is her doctor?”
“Dr. Hubert.”
“Egbert Hubert?” A stupid question. There was only one Dr. Hubert.
“She’s been here for two or three days, but he’s already had two sessions with her while other patients are unable to get one session with him in a month. Her father is an important figure, I suppose. It must be the reason for all the care and interest.”
My ears reddened and my stomach ached, but I went on acting naturally and pretending not to care. “She seems young and healthy. What does she have that made her come here?” I asked.
“Apparently, she’s here after a few unsuccessful attempts at treatment,” the old caregiver murmured.
I nodded and could feel Eldwin watching me. I finally met his eyes.
“Her file is in Dr. Huber’s office,” he offered.
I tried not to reveal my surprise at his suggestion, but he had my interest.
“Oh, have you seen it?” I asked tentatively.
“No, but I have the key to every room and I’m sure it’s there.”
“Why are you telling me this,” I asked, my guilt turning to annoyance.
“You seem interested in her condition. Maybe you could skim over the file tonight . . . and . . . and . . . ,” he said suddenly looking down at my pocket.
I realized I had one of the yellow pills in my pocket. I fingered it for a moment before pulling it out to show him. He closed my hand and looked away from me.
“I blame your youth for your indiscretion.”
“Well . . . I didn’t mean. I thought you were asking me….”
“So you also believe in the hospital rumors and are trying to benefit from them.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly very con
fused.
“I have a little granddaughter,” he explained, “and my daughter and her husband died during the war. She’s a seven-year-old girl, and I have to look after her because she has no one but me. You think about all that responsibility and obligation. Is it possible for me to use drugs?” His voice grew severe.
“I really didn’t know . . . and I . . . I never meant it . . .,” I mumbled in shame.
“I take those pills, yes, I do, but I take them to sell so that I can look after a poor orphan. Do you understand?”
“Yes…I’m sorry….”
Eldwin stood up, took a last look at me, and walked away, leaving me alone with my shame. As he disappeared into the darkness, he stopped and I heard his voice, “Be here tomorrow at 11 p.m. You can only check the file for 10 minutes.”
I spent the time before my meeting with Eldwin absorbed in my work and carefully staying away from the women’s ward. When the time got closer, I paced the halls aimlessly with my pencil and notebook counting the seconds until it was time to go outside. The old man arrived at the bench late. He sat a little distance away and slid me the file.
When I realized that an open snuffbox lay between us, I clumsily placed the yellow pill inside.
“And another tomorrow,” Eldwin said as he closed the snuffbox and moved it to his pocket.
I nodded absently as I quickly opened the file and began to read.
Maria Orsic
When I read her name, I felt a pleasurable ache in my stomach.
October 10, 1895, Zagreb
She was two years older than me. I was surprised.
Mother is German, from Vienna. Father is Croatian. First symptoms of antisocial behavior and blunted affect at the age of 15, a sudden decline in school performance, indefinite leave from school. First reported delusions at the age of 17 along with persistent attempts to persuade others of their veracity. Displays of aggressive behavior in conjunction with the delusions, accompanied by periods of moodiness. Delusions of supernatural creatures and extra-terrestrial communities. Patient talks of having contact and exchanges of information with these imagined entities.
Save the Last Bullet for God Page 2
