The Cursed Man (15 page)

Anna slipped her hands into her pockets, withdrew them and folded her arms across her chest.

“I can't explain how relieved I was when you walked through that door the next day,” Alister said. He laughed, shook his head and sat. “I was happy with the idea I might be crazy and my past was nothing more than a fantasy.”

“It is only natural for what you're going through to have a variety of emotions—some completely opposite from others and even conflicting feelings within the same emotion.”

Alister stood, turned away and clenched his fists.

“Alister?”

He relaxed his hands and tapped his temple. “Something isn't right. Your kindness, even in moments such as this, can force my anger.”

“We will learn to control that.”

“I suppose a step in the healing process starts with facing whatever awaits me outside?”

“It is.”

“And you won't tell me what that is?”

“To tell you just wouldn't do. You've got to leave this room and see what it is with your own eyes so you believe.”

Alister sat on the bed and looked around his small room. “You want me to leave here?”

Anna nodded. “But only for as long as you're comfortable.”

Alister felt the rumble of sudden uneasiness roar inside his gut and squash his bravery. “But I haven't stepped foot outside this room in twenty years.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Enough that I'm talking to you when my rational mind tells me not to.”

“Then confront your fears and come outside with me.”

Alister wanted to protest, but he was serious when he said he didn't want to run from his fears any longer.

“I assure you there is something great waiting for you outside this room—something that will change your outlook.”

“On what?”

“That's the reward.”

Alister longed to accept Anna's invitation, but his obedience settled in his feet, and they were too heavy to lift.

“I don't think I can do this,” he said.

“And I believe you can.”

He wanted to stand and walk to the door, but his legs shook so hard he didn't believe he would be able to maintain his balance. He felt like a frightened little boy hiding beneath his covers and trembling at the strange sounds that came from his closet.

“I can't.” The words were hard to say.

Anna knelt in front of Alister and took his hand. “In this moment, your decision to resist your hesitation could bring you one step closer to finding an answer to the questions that plague you. You could gain the freedom from this curse you have been so desperate to achieve.”

Alister wiped the sweat from his scar-ravaged palms on his pant leg. He drew a deep breath and stood. “OK, I'm going to do this.”

Anna stood with him.

“But I want to be sure no one else is going to try and speak to me.”

“I've already made such arrangements.” Anna moved to Alister's closet. “No one will be present where we are going.”

“OK,” he said. He could no longer ignore the rubbery feeling in his legs and sat. “I just need a minute.”

“Take as much time as you need.” She took a light jacket out of the closet. “You need to put this on; there is a chill in the air that'll go right through you.”

She dropped the coat at the foot of the bed, and a musty gust of air rushed up to Alister's nostrils.

“Once you're ready, call for me,” she said. “I'll be right outside your door.”

 

 

The past.

 

Alister held a knife in both hands, and his arms were raised over his head. The blade was aimed at his stomach. Sweat soaked his face and he struggled against two different desires.

He wanted to pull the knife downward, push it into his belly and twist it around until his innards spilled onto the floor and his life drained away. The other part begged him to put the knife down and forget that the blade would do enough damage to kill.

“Either way, what does it really matter?”

The room was empty and small, and the echo of his voice was dull.

“These struggles mean nothing.”

Alister growled and pulled the knife downward with all of his strength.

“I do this—”

Something unseen held his hands still.

“—for the well-being of others.”

He strained against the invisible force but was unable to move an inch. Tired, the fight went out of his arms, and he lowered his hands to his lap.

“Just as I thought—a stupid idea.”

He threw the knife, and it bounced off the wall and clattered on the ground. It landed somewhere near him.

“Something tells me you're not done with me yet.”

Alister lay prone. The cement floor was cold and hard, and the air had the smell of something old.

“I can only imagine how this one is going to end.”

A chill rocked his body. He curled himself into the fetal position and closed his eyes.

 

 

 

Present day.

 

“I can't do it,” Alister said. The indecision that swirled within made him so uncomfortable that he wanted out of his own skin. “I just can't go outside.”

He pressed his back against the wall and slid down until he sat.

“I just can't.”

He wrapped his arms around his legs and squeezed them with all of his might, but they still trembled.

“I just can't.”

His heart worked the inside of his ribcage like a heavyweight fighter hitting a heavy bag. His fingers tingled and he struggled to draw breath.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, and he punched the floor. “Five minutes to dress myself and twenty spent trying to convince myself I should walk outside that door.”

He shook the sting from his hand and looked at the door. It was thick and heavy.

“Why am I like this?”

He stood, walked to his nightstand and gathered a pen and paper.

“I tried,” he said, and he began to write. He offered Anna an apology and a reason why he couldn't go outside. Doing that reminded him of the day the police came to his home and kicked his door down. He hated that memory. The message he'd written didn't do anything to save the lives of the police officers and the many doctors that followed.

Alister folded the note and slipped it underneath the door. He moved to the bed and sat.

Moments later, two light knocks at the door drew Alister's attention, and Anna stepped inside the room. She wore a smile wide enough to show her teeth.

“You smile to cover your disappointment,” Alister said, and he looked at the floor.

“Disappointment?” Anna positioned herself next to Alister. “I'm happy you've made it this far. This day has been filled with great progress, and you should be proud and encouraged by it.”

Alister returned a saddened smile of his own. “I can't help but feel I let us both down.” He turned his gaze to the covered window. “The darkness I've been placed in reminds me of days I would much rather forget.”

“That wasn't my intention.”

“It's OK,” he said. “Maybe it'll encourage me to get out of here.”

“I know you'll go when you're ready.”

Alister laughed. “The thought of my leaving this room absolutely petrifies me—so much so that I feel physically ill.” Alister searched the archives of his mind. “And I can't remember the last time I felt ill.”

“Like a cold or flu?”

“Yeah, any of that. It's like I've always been immune, like the curse keeps me healthy. It sounds silly, I know.”

Anna fixed a look of confusion on Alister. He watched her turn the chair so that it faced his bed, and she sat. She placed her briefcase on her lap, opened it and shuffled through papers.

“Take a look at these,” she said.

Anna handed Alister a few pages.

“What are they?”

Alister looked the pages over.

“They're your medical records,” she said. “Do you remember being treated for any of these conditions?”

“No.”

Anna sifted through more paperwork and handed Alister another page.

“Do you recognize that?”

“No.” It was a photocopy of a handwritten letter.

“That is your handwriting, is it not?”

“Yes, it is.”

Anna paused.

“A self-diagnosis of a fever. Swollen glands and, as you state, difficulty breathing.”

“I don't remember writing that.”

“You requested penicillin as a method of treatment.”

“I didn't write that.”

“I need you to take a moment to think it through.”

“I don't need a moment.” He dropped the papers on the bed. “I haven't had so much as a cold since I was a teenager.”

Anna returned the pages to her briefcase.

“You wrote those notes to the hospital doctor,” Anna said. “You submitted one only three weeks before I arrived and were given the proper medications to treat your illness. I verified this information with the hospital physician and was even allowed to review your file.”

“They're fake.”

Anna looked at Alister with doubt. “In your own handwriting?”

“I don't know.” He scratched his head. “Maybe I was drugged.”

“That sounds like a lot of work—and for what?”

“I don't know.” His eyes scanned the room in search of an answer. “To confuse me.”

“Just so they could show it to me so I could show it to you? So I could convince you the curse wasn't real?”

“I don't know.” He sighed, looked away and fingered his beard. “All I know is I didn't write those notes.”

Anna searched her briefcase.

“I'm going to leave these with you.” She tossed Alister a bottle.

“What are they?”

“For your nerves.”

Alister opened the bottle and inspected the contents.

“I want you to take two of them before breakfast.”

Alister nodded.

“Discontinue using any meds they've prescribed for you here.”

Alister capped the bottle and looked to Anna in question.

“I don't trust them, either,” she said. “Something funny is going on here, and I haven't figured out what it is yet.”

 

 

A TRIP OUTSIDE

 

 

Alister sighed and rubbed his eyes. The call of sleep buzzed inside his head, but his mind worked overtime with question and wonder, keeping him anxious and awake. He ran taut fingers through his hair. Anna had said she didn't trust anyone at the hospital, and he couldn't escape the question of why. She had given him new pills to take, and it was done in secrecy.

“What for?”

Alister scratched his head and sat up. “As my doctor, doesn't she have every right to do that?”

He got out of bed and grabbed the bottle of pills. He placed it on the tabletop with the label faced out.

“Prozac.”

He grunted and continued to inspect the bottle in search of something that might reveal any trickery. He popped the top, dealt himself two pills and lined them on the tabletop like soldiers that stood at attention. Like a strict drill sergeant, he inspected them. He didn't expect to find skull and crossbones embossed on them, but if he did, he would know they were poisonous and his trust in Anna had been misplaced.

“Nothing,” he said. “But I still think it is better for me to trust my own mind rather than one that is drugged and vulnerable to manipulation.”

He placed the pills inside the bottle and tossed them on his bed. Although he was consumed with fear and unable to make it outside yesterday, he expected very different results in the morning.

 

 

“I can do this.”

A sudden surge of confidence filled Alister with energy and made him smile.

“I need to do this.”

“If you have any doubts—”

“No. I've had an entire night to work out any doubts.”

Anna smiled. “Good.”

“Did you make sure nobody else was going to be outside?”

“Yes, as I said yesterday, where we are going, there won't be anyone.”

“OK,” Alister said. He stood, grabbed his windbreaker and drew a deep breath. He exhaled hard to blow away any doubt that remained. “OK, let's go.”

Anna moved to the door. “I'm confident this will bring you closer to an understanding of what I believe plagues you.”

“I won't lie,” Alister said with a smile. “I'm nervous, but something inside is telling me that the decision I've made to go outside is a must and that something good is about to happen.”

“I know that to be true.” She pulled the door open and held it. “Move at a pace you're comfortable with. We're in no hurry.”

A small lit area of the hallway came into Alister's view, and he swallowed hard.

“I can do this.”

He slung his windbreaker on and took a step toward the door. His legs felt as heavy as cement stanchions and his heart went off to the races.

“I'm proud of you, Alister.”

Anna's encouragement was background noise to him. He held onto the doorjamb tight and stepped into the hallway. It was bright—much brighter than the darkness of his room—and it hurt his eyes. It was long, too—seeming to go on forever. Sweat ran down his back, and a tremble ran through his entire body. Rows of closed doors spaced every twelve to fifteen feet went on as far as he could see. His last memory of the hallway was a distant blur.

Anna stood far enough away from Alister to allow him freedom to explore.

“There are that many people who are like me?” His firm grip remained on the doorjamb.

“Like you in a sense, but different in many ways.” Anna started to walk away.

Alister's hold broke away from the doorjamb with a thump and he took several quick steps toward Anna. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder toward his room. The air left his lungs, and his legs warbled. He bent over and grabbed his knees.