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Authors: J. M. Erickson

Albatross (6 page)

BOOK: Albatross
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Suddenly, David was drawn back into the present with Andersen’s next volley of questions.

“Does your client have a name?” he asked.

“Former client,” David corrected. It was true—Burns was no longer a client. “His name is Mr. Alexander Burns,” David answered.

Then David finally understood Burns’s advice about being interrogated. Always give as much of the truth as possible without giving the mission away.
I see now. Tell him the truth
, David thought.

“So who is Mr. Burns?” Andersen asked.

David exhaled as he realized his best course of action. It would be difficult because he would have to reopen old wounds, wounds that he was still trying to heal, but he had to for Becky and Emma, for Samantha and Burns. David thought back to the day it all started with a phone call a life time ago.

Jenny was in the shower when David Caulfield, Sam Coleridge’s predecessor, took the call at home.

“Jesus, Michele! Can’t a guy sleep late once in a while?” David snorted out

“I’m sorry. Did I catch you in your final lap in the pool or on your way to get a donut or something?” Michele quickly shot back.

“What is it?” David grumbled, still carving sleep out of his eyes.

“You got a new client from the veterans’ hospital. No major physical issues per se … except for the fact he has internal head injuries and burns on his hands and arms … but seems to have a great deal more mental health issues, primarily paranoia, PTSD, and memory loss. The request comes from the director herself, and the package of information was put together completely by two treating medical doctors and a team from Germany. He came stateside eight weeks ago. Looks like they want you to see him on an outpatient basis as a private patient. Now here is the real strange part—”

David interrupted, “Huh? Something stranger than actually having medical information on a patient from the hospital with no obvious medical issues keeping him there and the director of the hospital being personally involved? Something stranger than all that?”

Michele went on, “Stranger yet. The director of the hospital accepted your pay fee without hesitation. And they want him in the intensive program for three sessions minimum a week for, and I quote, ‘as long as it takes!’”

David moved slowly from the bedroom to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee that had been automatically set to brew the night before. His thoughts had drifted to wondering if there was cream for his coffee when he stopped dead in his tracks at “for as long as it takes.” David was quiet. The refrigerator remained open. That was strange.
Anything too good to be true was often something that would bite you on the ass later
, he thought.

“All right. What’s the client’s name?” David asked.

“Don’t be too excited. I do forget we usually get clients like this with a potential of 156 sessions guaranteed to be paid within fourteen days of billing with minimal paperwork.”

Vintage sarcasm
, David thought. He knew that Michele had to wonder why her boss was not more enthusiastic.

“Okay, okay. I am happy. Now what is his name?”

“Burns. Alexander J. Born January 9, 1984. I booked a two-hour diagnostic evaluation starting a 9:00 a.m. today, so your day starts a little bit earlier than usual,” Michele responded.

“Thank you,” David said as he pushed the power button on the remote phone and stuck the phone in his bathrobe pocket. Usually, David was mad when his day was changed suddenly. He liked things planned and prepared for. Not this time though. It wasn’t because of the money. In fact, the payment schedule made him more nervous of what the hospital might be dumping on his doorstep. He had gotten accustomed to having a bit more time in the morning with his wife now that the kids were all away at college.

“So be it,” he said to himself. Jenny was getting out of the shower as he located both cream and sugar and poured themselves coffee to start the day.

“Hello, luvy,” Jenny proclaimed. Jennifer was her full name, but she fit “Jenny” better. She was always so happy in the morning that it could be annoying. It was nonetheless contagious, and he could not help but move from grumpiness to happiness whenever she was around. She always made him happy.

“Looks like I am going in earlier than expected too.” David was blowing on his coffee as Jenny made the final touches on her own cup. She had this adorable approach to pouring the cream and sugar in the cup first and then pouring the coffee in after to thoroughly stir everything.

“Well, that’s good. Get in early and come home early. Don’t forget you have an appointment with the specialist I set up for you regarding your elevated sugar,” Jenny reminded him.

“Yeah.”

Elevated sugar. Elevated weight. Elevated cholesterol. Elevated blood pressure. Yeah.

“Doctor, heal thyself,” David quoted.

“Please, David. Enough of the drama. You’re in your midforties, and you work too many hours, don’t move at work, and don’t exercise. You’re not exactly alone in that category.”

“Yeah, but I should know better. Part of my prescribed treatment is to have people make time for rigorous exercise to make a breakthrough in treatment. Kind of hard to make that point when you’re forty pounds overweight and soft in the wrong places. I don’t think I can keep saying, ‘I’m big-boned.’” David continued his complaint, “I really need to make some serious changes.”

Jenny listened. She always listened. “Don’t worry,” she said and touched his cheek. “We’ll do it together.”

David smiled. She always made him feel better.

“Now remember that Bob and Carol plan on seeing us tonight,” Jenny added.

That just topped off the day of surprises.

“Oh. Now I know it’s Thursday … let me guess. The third Thursday of the month?” David bemoaned. He loved his best friend, Bob; he had known Bob all his life. But after years with his wife, it became clear that Carol was a little controlling and liked to schedule the couple’s outings every third Thursday at some new place. Actually, “controlling” was the wrong word. He hated to admit it, but Carol had been the best thing for his lifelong friend. And she kept their marriage new and fresh with all the planning she did.
Maybe I’m a bit resentful of her abilities to take charge and make changes
, David pondered.

“Be nice. She is taking an interest in keeping our friendship alive,” Jenny added.

“Well … time for a shower and to start the day smelling good!” David feigned cheerily.

“That’s the spirit,” Jenny said as she left the kitchen.

When he entered the bathroom, David caught the shape of his stomach in the mirror. “That’s right, fatso. Wash up,” he chided himself.

It didn’t take David long to get showered, shaved, and dressed once he had his coffee. The drive to work was a short thirty minutes because much of the morning traffic had subsided. He wanted to stop off and get a breakfast sandwich, but coming into work with fast food would only prove Michele’s point. He was not about to help her prove any point at his expense. David did like his office very much. It was right on the main street with a bank of windows overlooking an upper-middle-class neighborhood of artists, small stores, and a surprising number of small restaurants and upscale beauty salons. He liked it much more than his house. His office was in a professional building in the heart of all the activity, people, and energy. His home, nice as it was, was in a private cul-de-sac that was more secluded than he would have liked. The three other homes in his immediate neighborhood were in varying degrees of renovation because the once-working-class and family neighborhood was now changing into new money and really young families. His office, on the other hand, was wonderfully classic.

Michele was manning the front office, and her niece was arranging new and old clients in the schedule to accommodate the new client. But it was not without strings.

“The new client, Mr. Burns, is being brought here by an attending nurse,” Michele began.

“Now that is weird. But then the whole case is strange,” David replied. “Who or what is bringing him?”

“A nurse, a Ms. Littleton. I think you know her,” she quizzed.

Well, that name brought back both memories and ambivalent feelings. David was unloading his papers and briefcase on his desk as he dug up his memories about Ms. Samantha Littleton.

“Yeah, I know her. Maybe too much about her,” David said more to himself than to Michele.

David saw that Michele let the cryptic statement go.

“Well, it looks like Ms. Littleton will be bringing the file with her and is supposed to be in the sessions with you both in case ‘nationally sensitive materials’ emerge.”

“Yeah … like that’s going to happen,” David muttered.

“She wants to meet with you first, so she will be here a half hour in advance of his arrival,” Michele continued, and as if on cue, the front office door to the foyer chimed, indicating a new arrival. Like so many times in the past, David had a pretty good idea who it was. As a therapist, David continued to try to analyze why he still had mixed feeling about his former student.

“Good morning, Ms. Littleton,” David said while he turned to face her.

She had not changed much since David had last seen her. Ms. Samantha Littleton was an athletic woman in her early thirties. She kept her bleached-blond hair in a functional hairband, and her complexion was clear with pale, smooth skin. While she would be considered pretty, she appeared altogether “forgettable” or so average she seemed to just fade into the background. Other than her unique history, which was known only to him, her own “private clients,” and two other mutual associates, she did have one interesting physical characteristic—the iris of each eye were different. She had one blue eye and a light brown eye. That explained why she constantly wore sunglasses outside and tinted glasses inside. Eliminating her unique eyes allowed her to blend in the background more effectively.

“Good morning, Dr. Caulfield. It is nice to see you again.”

David smiled. Was she being sarcastic or genuine? He went with the latter.

He ushered her into his office. He really did like his office, he reminded himself. It cost more money, but he had had his office doorjamb customized so that he could accommodate two doors in the same door casing—each closed, giving a feeling of “real privacy” and security. The heavy blinds on the windows helped with privacy as well. While his furniture would be considered “classic” for psychiatry, he liked the post-World War II decor as a matter of preference.

Ms. Littleton sat in the chair just opposite his desk. While his desk was somewhat littered with papers and files, he could find everything he needed much to Michele’s chagrin. She was into color-coding everything. David removed his briefcase from the desk so that he could sit down and actually see Samantha as he talked to her.

“It’s been long time, Dr. Caulfield,” she began, removing her sunglasses in an uncharacteristic gesture of openness.

“Just about six years. I did hear about your graduating nursing school and passing your licensing for your RN.”

“Your written recommendation did get my first job at the veterans’ hospital in addition to college. I always had the sense you were watching me but in a good way. Do you take care of all your former clients this way?”

David could tell it was hard for Samantha not to present herself as seductive. It came naturally to her. David had never acted on her seductiveness and had always been a gentlemen, almost a father figure. He suspected he was a significantly different one than she was used to.

“Actually, yes,” David said honestly. “There have been a number of children and adolescents I have assisted in getting into college and graduate school. Periodically, I have assisted in helping them get their first jobs, but only if I thought I had something to really offer and as long as it did not violate boundaries. You were the first adult I had assisted in such a way. I think it turned out all right … though your original choice of profession has confounded me at times,” David offered.

“Well … I did have a history of providing a service to men for a few years prior. When I chose psychiatric nursing, I thought it would be along the same vein, helping those in need for medical and health issues and not just sexual,” she explained.

BOOK: Albatross
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ads

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