Mama's Boy and Other Dark Tales (24 page)

"With Victoria's medical history, I had completed the first step in my plan. But I would continue until I had all the important details. I knew she'd be impressed by my intimate knowledge of her life.

"The records from the doctor listed her address. They also revealed that Victoria lived with her mother, Becky Lystner, in North Philly. The notes gave me a picture of a girl that had overcome terrible trauma and was working hard to put her past behind her. It seemed like she and her mama were very close. That was something special we had in common.

"I had one last thing to do before I paid Victoria a visit. I needed to know her likes and dislikes, the kind of things only friends or family would know. Armed with a high school yearbook I borrowed from the local library, I made a few calls until I found just what I was looking for.

"'Hi, is this Wendy Fitzgerald?’ I said to the young woman on the phone.

"'Yes?’ she said. ‘This is Wendy.'

"'Well, I'm a reporter with Vogue magazine and we're doing a feature story on an up and coming fashion star, Victoria Lystner. I understand the two of you did some modeling together in high school.'

"'Yes, we did!’ said Wendy. ‘I didn't know Vicki was still modeling.'

"'Oh, yes. She's in Paris at the moment, and I'm doing some background info gathering for the article, to add a personal touch—you know, ‘the people behind the success’ kind of thing. I thought you'd be a perfect person to quote.'

"I told Wendy a little about my reporting credentials. Very impressed, she couldn't wait to tell me every detail she knew about Victoria's life. By the time we were done chatting, I knew the name of very boy Victoria had a crush on in high school, her favorite songs, what flavor of ice cream she preferred, and even her choice of lipstick.

"'Thank you, Wendy,’ I said. ‘You've been very helpful. Please give me your address so I can send you a complimentary copy of the magazine when the article is published.'

"'Thank you, Mister Cronkite. I can't wait to see it,’ she said. ‘Please tell Vicki to call me when she's in town. I'd love to do lunch. And I'm so glad to hear she's, um ... better.'

"What a load of crap. I could tell she really didn't give a damn about Victoria. She was only interested because she had become a celebrity and her name would appear in a magazine. Even so, I got what I wanted, and from her yearbook photo I could see that Wendy was hot. I decided to keep her address, just in case things didn't work out with Victoria."

Rebecca spoke up before Henry could continue. “Henry, you've done some fine work today, but we'll need to stop for now. We'll pick up where we left off next time.” She handed Henry a paper towel for his clay-covered hands. “And I have some good news for you.” She reached out—trying to hide her repulsion—and touched his arm to get his full attention. Henry looked down at her long fingers.

"It's still tentative, and I really shouldn't be telling you, but I think you've earned the right to know."

"What?” asked Henry, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, your progress has been so good, you're being moved to a low security facility. You'll be given more privileges, and you may even be able to leave the hospital from time to time."

Henry looked shocked. His eyes watered. “I didn't think I would ever leave this place.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Thank you, Doc.” He looked up at her with genuine gratitude.

"Well, we're not done yet, Henry, but we're close."

Suddenly, he looked worried, “But what about our work together? I couldn't tell these things to anyone else."

"There's still time. And I'll see if I can get permission to step up your session schedule until you leave. If that's okay with you?"

Henry nodded. “It's okay, Doc ... as long as I'm with you. I don't want to talk with anybody else."

"Okay, Henry. Well, we're running overtime and I'm sure the orderly is getting restless for us to finish. I'll be in touch about the schedule."

Henry beamed at Rebecca. “Okay.” He waved as he left the room.

She forced a smile and waved back.

The patient review meeting today was a disaster...

Rebecca was already seated as the psych ward doctors filtered into the conference room, coffee cups and files in hand. Rob Silvani made his way around the table, sitting down next to her.

He leaned toward her, and in a quiet voice, he said, “Listen Beck, I'm sorry about the other night. I shouldn't have gone off like that. I know you've got a lot on your plate right now. Forgive me?"

Rebecca sorted through her files, trying to ignore him. “Can we talk about this later, Rob?” Rob leaned back in his chair. He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. The room settled down, the director made a couple announcements, and the patient reviews began.

"Rebecca, please give us an update on Frank Doe. He's slated to be moved to the new facility within the next three weeks."

"Well, although Frank has made remarkable progress in his ability to communicate and to return to normal activities, I'm afraid he's showing disturbing signs of severe delusion. He is having terrifying nightmares and indicating an extremely violent fantasy life. I would advise strongly against moving him at this time. He may not only be a danger to himself, but he could be a threat to others."

"Thank you for your assessment, Doctor, but he hasn't exhibited actual violent behavior for close to a year. I appreciate your recommendation, but for now his transfer stands."

"But Doctor Silvani, I've been working very closely with this man, and I'm concerned about his volatile state."

"I understand that, Doctor, but we have certain criteria we must follow. I wish we could always make these decisions based on our gut feelings, but I have a hospital to run and serious budget issues to face. To keep good doctors like you on staff, I have to move non-violent patients elsewhere, to someone else's budget."

Rebecca sat back, trying to cover her upset. She had known the director planned to move Henry, but she had hoped there would be more time. Hearing very little of the other patient reports, she ran plans through her mind for accelerating Henry's process. When the meeting ended, Rob shoved his chair back hard, stalking out of the room without looking at Rebecca, but she was focused on getting to the director before he dashed out.

"Doctor Silvani!” she called as he headed for the door.

"Yes? Please make this quick. I'm running late."

"Would you please reconsider Frank Doe's case? I really don't..."

"Rebecca, my decision is firm. Now, please excuse me.” He walked into the hall; Rebecca followed.

"Would you at least consider increasing the frequency of his sessions until he leaves?"

The director stopped, files tucked under his arm, well-worn briefcase in hand. He exhaled heavily before he spoke.

"Look, Doctor. We're all impressed with your work, but you need to keep a healthy perspective or this job will burn you out. But against my better judgment and since it's only for a few weeks, you may increase the sessions—but on your own time. You must maintain your other duties. Understood?"

"Yes, Doctor."

The director turned and marched away down the hall.

"Henry, thank you for agreeing to work with me this evening. As you know by now, I've been given permission to see you more frequently. So why don't we get started right away. How about the nightmares you were suffering—any improvement there?"

"A little bit,” said Henry.

"That's good news. It means we're on the right track. Since that's the case, why don't you pick up where you left off on Tuesday—you'd gotten some information from one of ... uh, Victoria's high school friends?"

Rebecca crossed her legs. Henry noticed.

"You look very pretty today,” he said, blatantly scanning her body.

Rebecca shifted in her chair. Suddenly uncomfortable in her short skirt, she resisted tugging at the hem.

"Thank you. Now, shall we begin?"

"I'm always talking, but you never tell me anything about you."

"That's how it works, Henry."

"Well, it's not fair. I want to know something about you. Are you married? Do you have a family?"

"I'm not supposed to share that kind of information with you, Henry."

"You can tell me something, can't you?"

"No, I really can't. Now let's get back to work."

"Well, I'm not telling you anything else until you tell me something.” And he drew his fingers like a zipper across his thin lips.

Rebecca's cheeks flushed hot under Henry's rheumy gaze, and she worked to maintain her composure. “There's nothing to tell, Henry. I'm married to my work."

Henry crossed his arms and waited in silence. The mixed expression of child and letch on his hideous face unsettled Rebecca. She felt small and frightened, like the girl who first heard her mother's terrifying stories of abduction.

"Okay, I have no family. My mother ... died ... when I was a child.” Sweat beaded along her hairline.

"Sorry about your mama. What happened?"

"She's dead, Henry. Okay? That's it. Back to work or we'll just end this session right here."

"All right! I just asked a simple question.” Henry looked hurt. Furrowing his brow at her, he pouted.

"I want my clay!” he demanded.

Relieved to step away, Rebecca retrieved the clay from the cabinet. Placing it on the table without looking at him, she handed over the spray bottle, happy for its spiked contents.

"Where are my tools?"

Rebecca hesitated, considering the recent incident with the knife. Then she turned and pulled the pouch of tools from her desk drawer, and with something bordering on petulance, she thrust them at Henry. Trying to regain her professionalism, she masked the tension in her voice as best she could, “Can we begin now?"

Henry stared at Rebecca with a self-satisfied grin and nodded, turning his attention immediately to the clay. He began his next account.

"Okay, Doc. Whatever you say.

"Well, I guess you could say I studied Victoria's life real careful-like, and I knew it was time to move to the next step of my plan—a personal visit. That's where all my patience would pay off. But I still had to take it slow, so I decided that my first visit would have to be secret.

"I knew her schedule like clockwork, so at the end of her Friday afternoon shift, I slipped into the convenience store. She was busy cashing out and talking with the grungy girl waiting for her own shift to begin. Wearing a hat and sunglasses, I walked by unnoticed, dropping a small package at the end of the counter. Then I headed for the coolers in the back where I could watch from behind the bakery shelves.

"Shortly after, an older woman walked into the store. I recognized her from newspaper clippings. It was Victoria's mother, Becky Lystner.

"Victoria smiled. ‘Mom! What are you doing here? I thought you were working late.'

"'I got off earlier than I expected, Hon. Good thing, too. The warehouse was a zoo today. Since I got done early, I thought we could ride the bus home together.'

"'Yo, Vicki,’ her spiky-haired co-worker interrupted from the end of the counter. ‘Looks like someone left you a present.'

"'What do you mean?'

"The girl held up the little box, shaking it with a sly grin. ‘A present, duh? It's got your name on it.'

"Victoria took the package. She had a strange look on her face, like she was real uncomfortable. I hadn't put a message on the card, just her name in fancy letters.

"'Well, it is very pretty,’ she said as she touched the little box with the pink ribbon. Her favorite color. ‘Must be a mistake, though,’ she said. “I don't know anyone who would leave me a present.'

"'Maybe it's from a secret admirer,’ said the grungy girl.

"Victoria and her mother looked at each other funny. I was confused, but I knew she'd be happy once she opened my surprise.

"With elegant fingers, Victoria unwrapped the package, being careful not to tear the paper. She opened the box and pulled back the tissue, and saw my special gift. She must have been really surprised, because she dropped the box on the counter and stepped back, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Vicki, what's wrong, honey?” asked her mother. She looked worried.

"Victoria was quiet; stunned, I guess. I had no idea such a small thing could have such a big effect. Her mother reached over and pulled the pretty tube of lipstick from the box. It was Victoria's favorite, according to Wendy.

"'Oh my god,’ said Missus Lystner. ‘Whose sick joke is this?'

"What! I almost said it out loud. Confused and pissed off, I started to fidget. I was finding it hard to stay quiet.

"'What's wrong with it?’ asked Miss Spiky Hair.

"'My father used to make me wear that color lipstick,’ said Victoria, brushing the back of her hand across her wet eyes. Her mother pulled a tissue from her purse.

"'Shit, my father wouldn't let me wear lipstick at all.’ The stupid girl rolled her eyes at Victoria. ‘Hey, if you don't want it, I'll take it,’ she said. ‘That shit's expensive.'

"'Take it,’ said Victoria with a wave of her hand. ‘Just don't wear it around me.'

"I was outraged. How dare she give my gift away? How dare she disrespect me like that? I was her husband, or at least I was going to be. I couldn't tolerate it anymore. In a fit of anger, I slammed my shoulder into the bakery shelf; bread and donuts spilled all over the floor.

"The women gasped as I ran past them, escaping through the door and into the street. Running down the sidewalk, I turned the corner and screamed, ‘That lying bitch!’”

"I jumped in the van and took off, disappearing into the traffic. Rummaging through the papers on the passenger seat, I nabbed just what I was looking for—Wendy's address. A little side trip was in order before going home to Mama. I reached under my seat, excited by how good it felt to wrap my fingers around the hilt of my buck knife again. And besides, my memento collection was getting a bit stale.

"Wendy and I had a great time that night—that is, once she apologized for being such a bitch and ruining Victoria's surprise with her lies. But I was forgiving and treated her like I treated all my girls. If I'm anything, it's a gentleman.