by Barbara Ebel
“Our patients can wear down the best of us, except Dr. Keeton, of course. She’s made of steel. I make sure I do something nice for myself every single day after I’m here; usually some form of exercise to untangle the cobwebs spun around my head, even if I take a walk outside.”
“Sometimes there’s no time,” Annabel said.
“You will always feel like that in medicine. You just need to do it.” He opened the chart and wrote down an order.
“You are right, though,” he said. “Dr. Keeton and I talked about changing her antidepressant. We’ll put her on sertraline hydrochloride, a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor. No matter what field you go into, remember implementing effective treatment for depressed patients is lacking. It’s a major problem.”
“I guess most doctors don’t refer patients to psychiatry.”
“Haley did not seek help before her suicide attempt. However, most depressed persons who are successful with their attempt sought professional help within the month of doing it and most of them were not on an antidepressant.”
“That’s terrible,” she said. “Do you think some of them are misdiagnosed? Is that part of the problem?”
“Sure. As you know and will be tested on, other medical conditions and substance disorders mimic depression. Unfortunately, some primary care doctors narrow their focus on infections and diseases.” Joshua gave the chart to the secretary.
“You know she’s not in her room,” the woman said. “Her mother is here with an attorney and two cops are talking to them in the rec room.”
Dr. Keeton and Bob whizzed by the desk. “Officer Banks texted me that he’s here,” Selina said. “Come on, we’ll see what he has to say and we’ll take care of rounds.”
“Come in,” Dorothy Morris said when she saw the team. “Haley and I are talking to Mr. Levin, an attorney I’m hiring. We correlated our visit for when Officer Banks and Lowe could stop by.”
Selina introduced herself. “This is the rest of Haley’s medical caretakers,” she said waving her hand. “We’ll only stay a minute. Is it okay if we discuss one item of Haley’s care in front of everyone?”
“Go ahead,” Haley said. “My record should be an open book for the people here.”
Selina glanced at Joshua so he took over. “We’re starting you on a different antidepressant in the morning. Your meds could use fine tuning.”
Haley twisted the bracelets on her arm and shrugged.
“Thank you,” Dorothy said. “We were discussing what to do with our attorney. Haley and I are going to pursue both criminal charges and a civil lawsuit against Haley’s cyberbullies.”
“When and if you need information off of our police reports,” Edgar said, “Mr. Levin can contact us.”
Annabel stood with Bob behind Selina and Joshua. She never expected to see Dustin again and she tried to shake off her self-consciousness.
“What’s most important now,” Edgar continued, “is for Haley to recover and be well. Dr. Keeton and her folks are the experts.” He smiled, embraced Haley’s hand, and lightly shook it. “We better go. I’m glad we stopped by and helped in this informal discussion.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Levin said. “Laws and law enforcement have made it easier to pursue cases like this.”
“We’ll leave you as well,” Dr. Keeton said, “and we’ll be by in the morning, Haley.”
They walked out in pairs: Selina and Edgar, Joshua and Dustin, and Annabel and Bob.
“Talk to you tomorrow,” Edgar said to Selina. “To discuss where to go on Friday night.”
She stopped at the secure entryway. “My place is fine,” she said. “Bring along a container of Thai curry.”
Edgar kept his smile low-key. “I’m on the job otherwise I’d give you a hug,” he said.
Joshua and Bob split off into the lounge and Dustin slowed. “Annabel,” he said, “if you don’t mind, perhaps we can do a better job of not avoiding each other. My police job and your present medical work keep crossing paths.”
She bobbed her head in agreement. “If I could take back that night at the gas station and how I ended up there in the first place, I would.”
“We’ll forget about that. Let’s make sure we are friends.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
-----
The sky was pitch black when Victor scanned the street for a parking space. In his search, he drove a few extra blocks and then a few more streets after that. He killed an hour with nothing to show for it because he never parked the car. One more time he circled the area with more focus and stopped the dusty sedan across from where he lived. Why he hadn’t parked there to begin with was beyond his comprehension.
He locked the vehicle and dug his hand into his jacket. The tattered, moist napkin he pulled out held the burger remnant he had saved.
‘Don’t you dare eat that.’ The voice sounded like Orange but Victor looked around in the dark and she was nowhere to be found.
‘Shut up,’ another voice said. ‘He can drop it into Whatever’s mouth if he wants to; not his own. You’re being too bossy with Victor. Who are you, anyway, to suggest what he can and can’t do? And what kind of stupid name is Orange anyway?’
Chapter 27
Friday night Selina Keeton checked her appearance one more time in her full-length mirror before Edgar Banks showed up in her patio home. She felt the smallest twinge in her stomach; unusual for her because of her steadiness of character. However, when it came to her personal life, she allowed herself to experience more of a range of emotions than what she did on the job. Dating had been pushed to the background of her priorities for such a long time, she felt like a school girl with a crush.
Satisfied with her shiny straight hair, thin brown eyeliner above her green eyes, and satin lipstick, she went to the kitchen and popped two antacid tablets into her mouth. It was the first time she had invited Edgar to her place other than having him simply step in and pick her up for a date. No men were going to spend appreciable time in her private domain unless she knew them quite well. She was old-fashioned in that respect. Certainly her style was a hundred and eighty degrees opposite than her current female medical student who was apparently loose around the seams.
She could not find fault with her two students on rotation, however, as far as their clinical work. Annabel Tilson was exceeding what was required and proving to be an asset with young anorexic Lillie and suicidal Haley. Her empathy with their bipolar med student, Noah, had also been exemplary.
Selina also waited eagerly for Annabel’s paper on schizophrenia. Her patient, Victor Blake, had been a role model new-onset patient for the psychiatric illness and the students would now never forget the idiosyncrasies of such a disorder. She expected the best out of Annabel; with a stellar father in medicine for all her formative pre-med years, she probably understood what it takes to study an illness and encapsulate it into fine writing for a course project.
Edgar’s rap on her door came at 7 p.m. sharp. She swung the door open and said, “I don’t have to worry about opening my door because if someone is here I’m not expecting, a policeman will be here shortly.”
Edgar laughed and nodded. “I fulfill your requirements. And behold, I bring tidings of joy.”
“My favorite,” she said as they walked in and Edgar placed the bags on the counter.
With brisk efficiency, she checked the ingredients in the three cartons, then opened a bottle of wine. Edgar stepped over to the sliding glass door. The lighting in the common grounds showed off a golf course path weaving along in the distance.
“Nice view and landscaping.”
“Yes, my association fees take care of all of that and living here doesn’t make me feel claustrophobic like living in a small apartment. I wouldn’t feel comfortable living in a McMansion, either, like many doctors do.”
Edgar nodded. “You’re invited over to my place next time. Friday night; and that doesn’t include some night next week for a dinner breakfast,” he said a
nd took the glass of wine she handed to him.
Selina switched on the porch light, they clinked their glasses together, and sat on the couch facing outside. “Next week is going to be extra busy. The students finish their rotation on Friday and take their final exam. Then they have the weekend to finish their project papers and turn them in on Monday. I’ll be grading my students’ tests as well as all other students now rotating through psychiatry.” She took a sip and crossed her legs.
“Does that mean I won’t see you?”
“On the contrary. Our dates will be a diversion to get my head out of work.”
“A diversion?”
“More than that,” she teased. “We’re establishing a track record of going out together.”
Edgar admired her manicured fingernails, her slim wrists, and shapely legs. “You always look nice but tonight you are sparkling.”
“Thank you. You look handsome with or without the uniform.”
“Maybe at some point tonight I can also do without this outfit.”
Selina put a hand on his. “The aroma of that food is enticing. Why don’t we eat?” she asked softly.
He clasped her hand and applied a gentle squeeze. “There is more temptation here than just the Thai dinner.”
-----
In the morning, Selina woke from a trancelike sleep as if she were floating in a post-orgasmic ethereal state. Their sex had gone on past midnight; both hungry and needy, both passionate and unforgiving. They started after slinking to the floor in front of the couch, disrobing as they went. She clasped the firmness of his biceps as he entered her and they rocked like the surging oneness of their bodies had been inevitable.
Only one more glass of wine came in the interim between the living room and Selina’s bedroom. Their intensity simmered; making love like two people still getting to know each other yet now entranced in each other’s spell for the foreseeable future.
Selina admitted to herself – she was in love – and Edgar thought the same thing; he was madly in love with this woman.
After whispering their ‘good mornings,’ Edgar swung his legs to the side, got up, and slipped into the bathroom. When she comes over to my place next week, he thought, I’m going to tell her. I’m going to tell her I’m in love with her. As he washed his hands and threw water on his face, he decided. I’ll buy her some jewelry for the occasion. Who knows? One year from now I may be buying her an engagement ring.
-----
Victor swung open the refrigerator door and stared at a dwindling choice of food. He plucked the milk off the shelf, unscrewed the cap, and took a sniff. The ‘best used by’ stamp on the plastic container showed seven days ago. That smelled correct. How could he go buy groceries when his days were now packed with things to do?
Since it was Friday, he didn’t have a medical appointment or have to work but why waste time by going to the store? He strained his ears for a while, specifically listening for footsteps, a walker, or anything from the floor above. Perhaps he should bum some food from his mother. There was something she was supposed to be giving him, too, but he couldn’t remember the details. Nah, he said to himself, he didn’t want to see his old lady. There was something now more important on his plate.
He went back into his disheveled bedroom and rummaged around in the covers. When he located his cell phone, he sat on the edge of a chair and began texting. Luckily, the battery still had enough charge and he plugged in the number Orange had given him at the end of Wednesday’s session.
This is an invitation, he wrote. Come over anytime today. We can hang out and you’ll like Whatever. He finished with his address and clarification of which entrance to use.
-----
Orange folded laundry on a wooden table at the laundromat when the message came in. What Victor meant by ‘you’ll like Whatever,’ she had no idea. Must be some kind of surprise … although she didn’t know him that well. In any case, her day just got brighter because her goal was to get a boyfriend. A guy who she could share her problems with and help her fix stuff and maybe drive her around. It would be better if she liked him and, so far, she liked Victor.
She packed up her clothes in the basket she brought, put it in her trunk, and went home. After putting the laundry away and brushing her hair, she set out for Victor’s. She took her time because that’s what normal girls did … not appear too anxious to be with a guy.
Orange parked across the street and stared at the small house. Fall leaves still embraced the corners of the brown-shingled roof corners and an empty space existed in the middle of the hedges as if a bush had been overlooked and not planted.
She mustered up her courage to face Victor in this social setting and proceeded to the house. She wondered who lived behind the main front door as she passed and went to the steps of the side entrance.
For a change, Victor opened the drapes and let natural light into the room. He made a valid attempt to make his coffee table presentable by straightening out a magazine pile without thinking to throw any of them away. In the corner of his eye, he saw Orange walk past the window and then he heard the rap on the door.
‘Your girlfriend’s here.’
The voice in Victor’s head startled him and he swiped his hand in the air. “Not now,” he mumbled. “Go away.”
He unlatched the door. Orange raised her head to meet his gaze.
“You going to invite me in?” she asked.
He stepped back to free up the doorway and waved her in. “I don’t get visitors. You’re one of the first. What do you think?”
“About what?” she asked, sliding her shoulder bag off to the floor. “People like us make simple spaces into our crash pads. We call it home because it’s all we have. That’s what I think.”
Her words confused him and he put his hands up to his temple. Why would she put something of hers on his floor? Had she brought a gift to feed Whatever?
“Can I take off my coat?” she asked.
“Sure. Give it to me.”
She took it off and he tossed it on the magazine pile while she started looking around.
“Hey, I can make us some coffee.”
“Okay,” she said and followed him to the sink. He filled two mugs with water and put them in the microwave as she spotted the jar of instant coffee and opened the lid.
When he took the cups out, she stirred granules into both of them. “How do you like our Wednesday group?” she asked.
“Everyone there is fine but I’m starting to feel like not going.”
“No. You can’t do that. What we all do there is important. Plus, I like it better since you started coming.”
‘She’s right, you know,’ Victor heard.
‘No she’s not.’ Another voice intruded into his head and he turned his head quickly towards the terrarium. Although he couldn’t see the snake from where he stood, this second intruder was most certainly Whatever Your Name Is. ‘You want to stay here with me and stay away from foul people. Human beings are out for themselves. Their sole purpose is to replicate like bugs and tell you what to do.’
Victor grimaced and hid his face behind the mug.
“What are you doing?” Orange asked. “Don’t hide behind your coffee. And don’t avoid our therapy sessions, Victor. They’ve helped you already.”
‘She doesn’t know anything.’
Victor took a sip. He needed the caffeine. Perhaps it would ward off Whatever and the other voice in his head.
“Hey,” Victor said. “Do you want to meet my snake?”
“What?” she asked surprised. “I thought you made up your snakes.”
“I only have one right now,” he said pointing toward the bookshelves.
She narrowed her eyes and then he walked away with purpose. He was leaning over something when she followed - a large glass case like the ones in zoos. Victor dangled his arms inside and then wrapped his forearms around … yes, a snake!
Orange gasped and stood back. “Only one?” she blurted out. “He’s hug
e!”
Victor continued draping the six-foot snake around his arms, scooped him over the top and let him wiggle to the floor. “You guessed correctly,” he said. “It is a he. Males are smaller than females.”
“Damn it, Victor,” she said as she plastered herself against the kitchen counter. “Isn’t that thing poisonous and doesn’t it bite?”
“It’s non-venomous,” he said proudly. “But he can be feisty and they’re known to bite.”
The snake’s head was triangular, its body markings an olive color which faded to white on the underside, and she could see his many sharply-curved teeth. It hissed at her and she didn’t dare take her eyes off it.
“Maybe it should be in a zoo and not your house,” Orange said, grasping the counter like her life depended on it. “I bet trained handlers know what to feed it.”
“I know how to feed him,” he said defensively. “Soon he’ll be thicker and longer and I’ll switch from rats and mice to feeding him rabbits and chickens.”
Instead of getting used to Whatever, Orange grew more afraid and felt like she was going to pee. “Oh my God. I don’t like snakes and this is pretty scary.”
“He is not just any old snake,” he said. “He’s a southern species of the African rock python.”
All Orange heard was ‘python.’ A freaking monster snake. She clenched her mouth as her pulse pounded. She was no reptile expert but even she had heard about pythons and her impression was not to come face-to-face with an uncaged one slithering around on the floor in front of her.
“Victor,” she said tentatively, “I’m going to back around through the kitchen and head for the door. I hope to see you in group therapy.”
As quickly as she could, Orange tiptoed to the door. Victor’s mouth hung in disbelief as to what her problem was. She opened the door enough to escape yet worried that the thing could bolt to the opening and spring loose on an unsuspecting neighborhood.
