Robert Bloch's Psycho (30 page)

“Yes. Yes, I do.” Norman paused. “Dr. Reed, has Nurse Marie told anyone else about this?”

“No, don't worry, she hasn't. And she won't, at least until you and Robert and I figure out exactly how that stone got in that office. But we will, and I'm sure there will be a logical explanation, all right?” Norman nodded, though he didn't feel at all confident. “Good. Well then, now that we've got that out of the way, let's have you lie back and relax, and we'll begin our session…”

*   *   *

That evening Nurse Marie brought Norman his dinner. Norman thought she seemed less friendly and more cautious in his presence, and she glanced back frequently at Ben the attendant, who was standing in the doorway.

She didn't say much beyond what was necessary while Norman ate his dinner. He thought she might talk about Dr. Goldberg's disappearance, or even about finding the stone in his office, but she didn't mention it at all. She smiled down at him several times when he looked up at her, but her smiles looked strange and forced to Norman. Once she asked him if he'd had a good day, and he said he did, but he didn't elaborate, and she didn't ask him to.

The longer the silence grew, the more annoyed Norman got. Nurse Marie was acting as if he, Norman, were somehow responsible for what had happened. Didn't she know him better than that? He wondered what she might have told Ben, who stood so close to her.

Dr. Reed had said she hadn't told anyone else, but Norman wondered. Over the last few weeks, Norman could tell that Nurse Marie and Ben had been a lot friendlier to each other than they had been before. He wondered how far it had gone, if they had slept together.

He chewed his meat loaf and pictured the scene in spite of himself. It excited him, thinking of Nurse Marie and Ben in bed together naked, and him doing …
what
to her?

But he knew what. Doing what Norman had wanted to do to that girl, to Mary Crane, before Mother had—

“Norman?”

He tensed, thinking at first that the voice was Mother's, but it was only Nurse Marie's. Norman realized that his thoughts had made him stop eating, and that he had turned the spoon in his hand, and was holding it in his fist like a weapon.

He turned it back between his fingers, dipped it into the peas and carrots, and quickly brought it to his mouth so he wouldn't have to say anything. He looked at Nurse Marie, chewed with his mouth closed, and grinned. She smiled back, but he thought she looked scared.

Scared of him? Could she actually believe that he would want to hurt
her?
She, along with Dr. Reed and Robert, were his only friends. She had even stood up for him against Myron Gunn. But now … now she seemed to think that he was dangerous, all because of finding that damn piece of petrified wood. And that stupid little rock had made her think that
he
was a murderer or kidnapper or both.

But it wasn't him, he knew that—if it was anybody, it was Robert, but Norman couldn't say that, could he? He couldn't betray Robert, that was something he would
never
do, not his brother, who had made him feel human again, who had only wanted to protect him, had told him not to worry, had said he'd never let anyone hurt Norman, even if he had to …

No. No no no.
He couldn't go there, he couldn't think that. There had to be an answer, an explanation. If only Nurse Marie hadn't poked around in there and found that stone … no one else would have known what it was, or would have given it a second thought, but she had to be so
nosy.
And now he was in trouble for something he'd never done, and
Robert
was in trouble for something that he maybe did or didn't do, Norman wasn't sure, couldn't tell, didn't
want
to know, all because Nurse Marie couldn't keep her goddamned snooping nose out of what really wasn't her business—

There was a sharp
crack,
and Norman realized that he had snapped the plastic spoon in two in his hands. Dazed, he looked up at Nurse Marie, who was looking at him with wide eyes. She moved toward Ben, who stepped toward her and put his arm around her. He had lost his smile.

“I'm … sorry,” Norman said softly. He looked down and saw that the broken piece of plastic had dug into the base of his left index finger, making it bleed. Ben reached out and Norman let him take the two broken pieces of the spoon.

“I'll get a bandage,” Nurse Marie said. He heard her footsteps moving down the hall, and Ben stood, arms crossed, in the doorway looking down at him. Within a minute, Nurse Marie was back with a first-aid kit. She took Norman's hand in hers, first cleaning his small wound with alcohol, then putting an adhesive bandage on it. She didn't look at his face while she worked, though he looked at hers. It seemed pale and tense.

“There now,” she said when she finished. “You should be fine.” She forced a smile, but again he saw how artificial it was. He felt sad and angry at the same time. “Would you like to finish your dinner?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, thanks,” he said softly. She took his tray, and then she and Ben were gone, the door locked behind them.

In spite of his concerns and fears, Norman wanted to see Robert again desperately. He needed to see someone who wasn't afraid of him, and who wouldn't treat him as if he might, just
might,
be a monster.

He sat there trembling in the silence, and then, very softly, he heard it …

Norman.

Oh, God, no. Please …

Norman, listen to me.

No! Go away, Mother! You're not there—you were never there!

I was and I am. You listen to me, boy. A mother cares about her son, no matter how badly he treats her. And you've treated me very badly, Norman.

Mother …

You pushed me way down inside you, Norman. Why, I could hardly even breathe down there. But I could hear. And see. I could see what a fool you've been. And I wanted to help you, but you wouldn't let me. I wanted to show you the mistakes you've made.

Stop it, Mother!

I just want to help you, Norman.

I don't want your help! Just go away, Mother! You say you can hear me? Then hear that! Go away! Go away!

“Go
away
!” Before he realized it, he had shouted it aloud, and slapped his hand over his mouth, praying no one had heard in the hall.

It would be all right. People shouted all the time, quick, sharp outbursts that made you jump, and then nothing.

Norman tensed, listening, but he heard no more. Mother was quiet.

No. Mother wasn't there. She had never been there. He had to remember that. It was all in his mind. He had created her, but he could also drive her away, push her way down inside, like she had said.

No! Like
he
had said. In his mind was where she lived, and he had decided she was dead and silent. He just had to
remember
that. Mother was dead. She couldn't help him. And he didn't want her help. He didn't need it.

All he needed was his brother. All he needed was Robert.

 

17

Robert came to visit that evening, and Dr. Reed opened the door for him as usual. When Norman and Robert were alone together and the door was closed, Norman told him about Nurse Marie finding the stone on the floor of Dr. Goldberg's office the night he vanished.

“It worried her, Robert,” Norman went on. “She thinks
I
dropped it there or something, and she doesn't know about you. I didn't want to tell her that I gave you the stone, because then she might think that
you
 … well, you know.”

“What?” Robert said. “That I dropped it there when I was making Dr. Goldberg disappear?”

“Maybe. I think she believes I had something to do with it.”

“And we know that's not possible.”

“Well … no, it's not.”

Robert nodded. “And who has the lovely Nurse Marie told about this?”

“Just Dr. Reed so far.”

“He didn't mention it to me.”

“No. We decided that I would.” Norman tried to smile. “So I did.”

“So much fuss over nothing. You know what probably happened, little brother? I didn't have it far down enough in my pocket, and when I was leaving, it slipped out, fell on the floor, and I didn't notice. This Dr. Goldberg came by shortly after, saw it, thought,
oh, what a pretty rock,
and picked it up. Maybe put it on his desk, and it got knocked off and landed on the floor.” Robert shrugged dramatically. “And now Nurse Marie wants to make a federal case out of it. Ah, women.” He sighed. “You can't live with 'em, and you can't kill 'em, know what I mean?” Then he chuckled to show he was joking, Norman thought. Or at least he hoped.

“Now this Nurse Marie,” Robert said, “she's the one you like, right? The one who's nice to you?”

“Well … she
was.
”

“Hmm. That's too bad. You don't have all that many friends here.”

Norman felt a chill prickle the back of his neck. “What do you mean, Robert?”

“Oh, just that you never know about people. You think you can trust them and then they turn around and stab you in the back. People like that … sometimes they're actually worse than the ones who come right out and admit they hate you. Because they don't only break your body, they break your heart.”

Norman didn't know what to say. Robert had just told him what he'd been thinking, but didn't want to admit to himself.

“Now, as for Dr. Reed,” Robert went on. “I have a feeling that he might be trusted to keep a secret. What do you think?”

“Yes!” Norman said quickly. Though Nurse Marie might have disappointed him, Dr. Reed continued to be his champion. He knew he could have no better friend in the state hospital. “You wouldn't ever hurt him, would you, Robert?”

“Norman,” Robert said, widening his eyes in mock surprise. “I'd never hurt
anybody,
but especially not Doc Reed.”

“What about … Nurse Marie?”

“Little brother, like I just said, I'd never hurt anybody. But if people choose to get wanderlust and decide to hit the road, well, that's hardly my fault.”

“Robert…” He picked his words like he was feeling his way through a minefield. “I wouldn't want anything to happen to her. I wouldn't want her … to disappear. Like the others.”

Robert looked at him for a long time without smiling. Then a grin snapped into place. “Whatever you want, Norman. But things usually have a way of working out. You're a lucky guy, good luck charm or not.”

“But you … you didn't do anything to Dr. Goldberg, did you?”

Robert gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head. “Didn't you hear the story? Goldberg ran off because the Nazi hunters were after him. He was a
Nazi,
Norman. See? It just proves what I said about not being able to trust people. A lot of times they're not what they seem. That's why we've got to stick together. Stand up for each other. I look out for you … you look out for me, right?” He held out his hand. “Like brothers do.”

Norman took his hand. It was dry and cool and squeezed his own hand firmly. “Like brothers do,” he repeated.

Deep down, he thought he heard a single word:

Fool.

*   *   *

Norman was alone in the dark, waiting for Mother to return. He had been expecting her, fearing her, and despite what he had told himself about her being a creation of his own mind, he was sure she would come back.

He was also afraid for Nurse Marie. Despite her change in attitude toward him, she had done nothing wrong. Anyone in her position would have done the same, and in fact might have gone straight to the police. What Robert had said about her frightened him.

He hadn't prayed since he was a little boy, but now in the darkness he closed his eyes and thought, Oh, please … please, if you're there, don't let Robert hurt Nurse Marie. Keep her safe.

He repeated that prayer over and over, until he finally received an answer.

I will if you let me.

Norman clenched his teeth. He knew the voice. Mother.

Don't shout at me, Norman. Don't tell me to go away, because I won't. Not this time.

You have to, Mother. You're not there.

I am, Norman, and you know it, boy. A mother is always there when her son needs her.

I don't need you, Mother.

Oh, yes, you do. Because you've been a fool. You believe anything. You believe you have a brother, even though I told you that you didn't. But you didn't believe me.

No. No—you said yourself that maybe he was your son after all. You said that!

Even mothers can be fooled. But not forever. I watched and I listened, Norman. And eventually I knew. I knew what was going on, all right, even if you didn't. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen. You wanted a brother so much you lied to yourself over and over. And you thought this Robert Newman was your brother. Oh, yes. “New-man,” indeed—new and made-up.

No! He's my brother! He'd do anything for me!

There was silence for a time, then …

Would he?

In the silence that followed, a silence that pounded inside Norman's head, he became aware of a new sound. An ever so subtle rumbling, as of a great weight moving. Then there was a change in the air, and it became cool and dank. Though his eyes were still closed, the black inside of his eyelids seemed to brighten ever so slightly.

The rumbling stopped. Someone spoke a word that hung like dust in the air. And Norman Bates was no longer himself.

*   *   *