[Untitled]
ANDERS FELT LIKE crap. All he could seem to do was lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, his arm resting across his forehead. The radio was on but it was humming static. He'd skipped his afternoon class; his head felt like the inside of a can being scraped of rust by a dull knife. Dino had entered the room several times, getting books, dropping books; each time he'd glance over at his catatonic roommate, murmur something sympathetic, say things would be better tomorrow, and dash off for his next appointment. Yeah, Anders thought, things can only get better. Who was it that'd sung that song, Howard Jones? Hadn't he also sang [sic] about someone who could feel the punishment but not commit the sin? [Note--in the hardcopy, the word "sang" is crossed out and the word "sung" correctly written in. Also witness my cheesy Howard Jones reference. Not cheesy that I like his music and can refer to him. Just cheesy that I did refer to him.] Something like that?
He didn't really know, and he didn't really care.
Around four o'clock Puck entered, grabbed one of his arms, and proceeded to drag him out of bed. Anders protested and fell out, nearly hitting his head on the nightstand. Something about this seemed a little familiar, and he jumped to his feet.
"What the hell are you trying to do, kill me?" he shouted.
"Listen, Anders, I know perfectly well what depression is like. [Note--more OOC acting on Puck's part. While he does suffer from depression, he certainly doesn't go talking about it. This bit of dialogue sounds too much like a public service announcement. "The More You Know!"] I go through it just about every friggin' day. And I'm not going to let you lie here wallowing in your own self-pity. Nor am I going to allow you to blow every class just because your head hurts or your nose itches. You've already missed your English class. You're not missing Architecture."
"I don't feel like going."
"Well that's tough, isn't it? But you're going anyway. Now get up." Anders had sagged back onto his bed during this speech, and now Puck yanked on his arm again. Anders hissed--it felt like Puck was attempting to rip his arm out of its socket--and pulled his arm away.
"Cut it out!" he snapped. "You have no idea what I'm going through."
"Oh? I don't?" Puck smirked and held out his clenched hands, palms up. Anders looked down and was puzzled at the faint lines crossing Puck's wrists; they looked like scars. He looked up into Puck's face.
"What's that?"
"Those are scars, as you may have guessed."
Anders felt numb. He could only think of one way someone could get scars across their wrists... "God, Puck. When did this happen?"
"Around when I was seventeen. It had practically nothing to do with any of this but it happened. [Note--Puck also doesn't tend to flaunt these around. See The Scorpio Murders, Chapter 7, and Minot, Chapter 2, for more on this particular incident and what led up to it. There is more beyond what Puck outlines in those stories.] And you know why? Because all I could seem to do was sit in bed and stare at the walls just like you. I know what you're feeling like because I've been there. Many times. I practically live there." Anders couldn't believe he was joking about such a thing. "And I know exactly what the bottom's like, because once I touched it. With my bare hands. You haven't been there yet, and with luck you never will. It's even worse than this, if you can believe that. What makes it worse is that there's nothing to feel."
"What exactly happened?" Anders asked. He couldn't help but to steer back towards what had brought this on.
"Something it's better not to drag you into, at least not now. The truth is I don't want to dump all my problems on you; I can see you've got more than enough of your own. But I ended up going back into my room, picking up a razor, doing this, and then swallowing about a whole bottle of sleeping pills. It's just like something I saw on TV once. You get sleepy, and you get cold. But other than the cuts it didn't hurt at all. Till I woke up in the hospital three days later. If you've ever had a hangover, I would never wish that on you."
Anders shuddered. Ever since he'd met Puck he'd been learning more and more; he thought he knew just about everything important there was to know. Now this... "You really think I'd do something like that? Do I look that desperate?"
"No, you don't. At least, not yet. But it grows on you. Which is why I want you to get up right now and go to that Architecture class. I know how much you love Architecture."
Anders sighed; maybe his head didn't really hurt as much as he thought it did. And all his limbs were working properly. Puck was right, in his own way; he did enjoy the class, and he didn't want to screw up his grade. He was already carrying a 4.0 in that class. Just how badly did he want his degree?
"All right," he mumbled, reaching for his books and scooping them into his bag. Puck stood off to the side, watching him carefully. Anders picked up a notebook he'd left lying on the nightstand. "I didn't know you were such an advocate of tough love," he muttered.
Puck gave him a totally annoying smile. "It goes with the job, Honeypie. Now get down to the Gen-X and grab yourself something to eat. You've got an hour and a half. You look like you've been bingeing." [Note--er...wha...? Based on what Puck just ordered him to do, and on what Anders says next, this line makes absolutely NO sense! I think he should be saying, "You look like you've been starving" or "fasting" or some such--but I've always known what the word "binge" means so I have no clue why I used it here! Unless I meant something else (maybe "bingeing and purging"?), in which case, the meaning appears to have been lost somewhere along the way...]
That wasn't entirely true...Anders shook his head to clear it. "Yeah, I guess I haven't eaten in a while...what're you going to be doing?"
"I've got to go check on a painting I left in the art room. I just hope Tass hasn't decided to improvise. I'll see you in the Gen-X. At seven."
"Yeah, okay."
Puck turned and walked out.
Anders continued dumping materials in his bag until he realized he'd accidentally included a stray snowglobe; he pulled it out and set it where his notebook had been a few moments earlier. It was a memento Dino had picked up in Texas, stalactites and stalagmites sparkling with glitter and with the words INNER SPACE CAVERN at the bottom. [Note--I possess such a snowglobe.] He looked at it for a moment, at the 3-D effect of the columns and at the swirling coruscations, before he turned back to his bag. Dino popped in again, going immediately over to his bed before he even noticed Anders.
"Hi, A. C.!" he greeted. "See, I told you it would get better. Oh, you found my snowdome! Thanks! I was wondering where that'd ended up..."
He trailed off into a series of indistinct mutterings, rummaging through his own bag. Anders placed his over his shoulder and left the room. It seemed he could still see the tiny sparkles swirling before him as he departed.
Julie sat at the counter, absently tapping her pencil. She was a lab assistant for one of the other doctors, who was now standing at the other side of the room, casting looks at her once in a while which clearly said Would you stop that? Julie didn't notice. She was too lost in thought.
The door opened and closed. Dr. Pennethorne noticed the doctor and said something to him. The second doctor cocked his head at Julie and went back to work. Dr. Pennethorne turned and walked to the back of the room.
"Good afternoon," he said.
Julie continued tapping her pencil and staring at the sink.
"I said good afternoon."
"Huh?" She lifted her head, surprised. "Oh! Doc. Hi. I mean, good afternoon. It's afternoon already?"
"It's almost six o'clock, Julie. What've you been doing all day?"
"Oh. Nothing much. Sorry," she flushed red as she noticed the look the second doctor gave her, but he turend back to straightening things on the opposite counter.
"I just wanted to talk to you about something. Would you mind coming down to my office for a minute?"
"Oh--no. Not at all."
She got up and followed him out of the room. The second doctor looked at her once more, and sighed as soon as the door shut behind them.
Dr. Pennethorne didn't make any smalltalk on the way to his office, so she decided it must be serious, or at least important. She wondered what could have stifled the usually congenial doctor's tongue. He opened the door for her, and shut it behind her as she took a seat. He went and sat down behind his own desk, locking his fingers as she'd so often seen him do.
"I was just thinking about what you told me yesterday. About meeting this Anders fellow."
So it was about that? Then something definitely wasn't good. Julie shifted uneasily. "Yeah?" she said.
"Last summer, was it?"
"Uh--yeah. In the park."
"And you dropped your psychology dissertation in the fountain, huh?"
"Yeah." An unconvincing laugh. "I had to retype the whole thing."
"That's pretty impressive. Considering your dissertation isn't due till next year."
She felt her heart thump once, and then was afraid that it had stopped. But no, unfortunately it was still going. "Oh," she said, her ears burning. She suddenly felt very stupid, not to mention afraid. "Uh--"
Dr. Pennethorne leaned forward, his fingers still locked. "Look, Julie, maybe you don't want to tell me every single thing that happens in your life--I may be a psychologist but it's not like you're paying me for sessions--but when you start lying to me it makes me wonder. You've never lied to me before. What makes you do so now?"
Her mind was in a whirl. She had to tell Dr. Pennethorne what had been going on; else he would find out, in his own way. But she'd promised Anders and Puck not to tell--
Wait a minute.
Just not to tell what they said.
What I tell you you can't tell anyone else.
That didn't include what she already knew, did it?
Plus, it wasn't like she had to use their names or anything. Dr. Pennethorne already knew Anders's name, but what was the likelihood the two would ever meet?
It had to be nil.
Taking a deep breath, she let it out.
"Okay, Doc, I know I lied to you. But it's only because what I had to say you'd never believe."
"Try me."
"You remember the dreams I told you about, and what I thought was causing them."
He nodded.
"Well..." She found herself coming perilously close to breaking her promise. "When I went to the college I met these two guys. What they had to say corroborated my dream. They even remembered something I did. Now how could these other two be going through the same thing I am if I just ran into one of them in the park?"
Dr. Pennethorne frowned. "Two men?"
"Yeah." She couldn't hold it in anymore; the pressure was too strong, and Dr. Pennethorne would have to find out sooner or later. "Anders is one of them. The other one is a friend of his. They said the same thing happened to them last summer."
"But that was before any of your dreams, Julie."
"Yeah! But--remember when I came in yesterday, with my eye all bad?"
"Yes, I remember. It doesn't look so bad now."
"But Anders and Pu--I mean, Anders and his friend, they said the same thing had happened to them! Only with Anders's nose and his friend's ear."
Dr. Pennethorne raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"Both of them woke up bleeding. Anders from his nose. His friend from his ear. Plus his friend's got some kind of problem with his eyes. You should've seen him. It's like with me, only worse, and it's with both of them."
"You're sure you weren't leading them here, Julie."
"No! I'm positive! I went out to talk to Anders and he saw my eye. He dragged me back to the campus. I still have the bruise to prove it." She showed Dr. Pennethorne her wrist. He frowned. "He told me about his nose, and the other one about his ear. Before I even said anything."
"I don't know about this, Julie."
"It's the truth, Doc. Why can't you see that?"
He sighed and unlocked his fingers. "Because you can't seem to see what's really going on here. You barely know these two. For all you know they're getting you into something it's better you didn't get into."
She opened her mouth to retort, but knew that she'd already said too much. "Never mind, then," she mumbled, getting up. Dr. Pennethorne made no move to follow. "Just forget I ever mentioned the whole thing. And I mean it, please? I told them I wouldn't tell anyone else about this, and now that I do, you don't believe me."
"It's not that I don't believe you. It's that I'm not sure you should be putting so much faith in what a couple of strangers are saying. Be careful, Julie."
She could never stay mad at him for long. She sighed. "Yeah, Doc. See you later."
She let herself out, shutting the door behind her and stalking down the hall.
She didn't feel like returning to work--Dr. Josephson probably didn't feel like working with her anymore today anyway--so she headed for the elevator. It was down the hall and around the corner. As she reached the corner a hand reached out and grabbed her elbow. She shrieked.
"So you've got a shrink for a friend?" a familiar voice said mildly. Julie whirled around and the hand let go. Leaning against the corner--she'd been so lost in thought she hadn't even noticed him--was Puck. There was a faint smile on his face. Julie was thoroughly rattled--how the hell did he know she worked here? How'd he even get here?
"What're you doing here?" she managed to stammer.
He smiled back. "Just checking up to make sure you've got no ulterior motives."
"Ulterior motives! If anyone's got any, it's you!"
"Shh. Not so loud. Your friend and mine might hear us."
Julie glanced back up the hallway. The door to Dr. Pennethorne's office had opened, and he was looking down the hall in their direction. The look he had on his face was not good. She turned back to Puck.
"What do you want?"
"Really, I just wanted to know a bit more about you. You'd be surprised how many people out there go looking for kooks. Who'd've thunk you worked in a mental clinic."
"It's not a 'mental clinic.' It's a health clinic. Which just happens to include a mental health center. Which just happens to be where I work. Part time. So why would you just happen to be checking up on me?"
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Like I told you. I'm not the most trustful of people, as you could probably guess. But neither is Anders. And he wouldn't like it very much if he found out what you've been telling."
Julie started. "How did you know--"
"How'd I know? First I had to ask where you worked. Then I had to ask who with. That would be Dr. Josephson, wouldn't it?" She felt her heart sinking. "Then I had to find out just why you're not working with Dr. Josephson right now. Why? It's because you're with your good friend Dr. Nathaniel Pennethorne. And what exactly is Dr. Pennethorne? A shrink."
"He's a psychologist."
"Whatever. It's close enough. And why do people go to shrinks--psychologists?" he corrected himself, as soon as he saw Julie's look. When she didn't answer, he continued. "It's because they've got something to say. And when they don't have an appointment with that doctor, it's because you've got something to get off your chest. And I can pretty much guess what that something was."
"Please, don't tell Anders!"
"I won't. He won't hear it from me. But that doesn't mean he won't find out." He shrugged. "Listen, let me give you a little advice. I don't usually take very well to people breaking their promises."
"Then why are you bothering to tell me this?"
"Because, in this case, I couldn't care less if Dr. P knew. He is a doctor, isn't he? Harm no one? Patient confidentiality? I'm sure he won't go blabbing to anyone." He stretched casually. Julie cast another look up the hall and saw Dr. Pennethorne headed towards them. "And I knew you'd be telling anyway. You had that look in your eye."
"I didn't have any look!"
"Yes, you did. The look that says 'Oh my gosh, this is too much.' The look that says you have to let it out or your head will explode." The look Julie had on her face presently changed; she looked at him as if he were nuts. "But anyway, for my advice--start prepping yourself to be hearing some weird things. Because I'm sure you will. You've read a lot of books about this, haven't you?"
She felt her ears burning again. "Yeah--kind of."
"That's good. You've done your homework! Now just take everything that's in those books and magnify it three times. Then tell yourself you're going to be experiencing all that first hand [sic]. Maybe then you'll be able to handle it when we tell you to keep a secret."
"Hi, Julie." Dr. Pennethorne appeared behind her, giving her a sparkly but totally false smile. He appeared disarming enough, but Puck smiled back, seeing right through it. The doctor had a look in his eyes, too, a look which said, "Watch who you're messing with, mister."
"Is this a friend of yours?" It sounded friendly, but the way he worded it made it seem much different to Puck. The way he used the word this.
"Uh--yeah. This is Matthew Benteen. But everyone calls him Puck."
No one held out his hand first, but somehow they ended up shaking. Dr. Pennethorne had a good memory, and he recalled how Julie had started to call Anders's friend "Pu--" This must be one of those crackpots right now. He continued smiling, and Puck smiled back. There was something almost feral about his smile. Dr. Pennethorne let go of his hand, and Puck drew it back.
"Nice to meet you."
"Yeah, small world, huh?"
So he had an attitude to go with that smile, too?
"Puck, this is Dr. Pennethorne. He's a friend of mine here at the clinic."
"Psychologist," Dr. Pennethorne clarified.
"I know."
"I'm sure you do."
"Yeah. Julie's told me all about you."
Julie whirled to gape at him. Dr. Pennethorne was just about gaping at Julie.
"Well, Ju, I'm sure you've got a lot of work to do around here. My ride's waiting. It was nice to finally meet you, Dr. P." He gave a mock tip of a hat--as he wasn't wearing one--and vanished into the elevator. The doors slid shut and it hummed away. Julie and Dr. Pennethorne were left standing in the hall, staring at it.
"Julie," Dr. Pennethorne finally managed to say, "we've got to have a long talk."
"Not now," Julie brushed him off, jogging over to the second elevator and punching the down button.
"Hey!" Dr. Pennethorne protested. He knew where she must be going. "Julie, I strongly advise you not to do this--"
"Sorry, Doc," she said, just barely turning to look at him before the doors opened and she stepped in. He ran over just as the doors were closing. She cast a plaintive look back at him.
"I've got somebody else I have to talk to right now," she said, as the last sliver of her face disappeared. "But I'll be sure to keep in touch."
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