Undermind: Nine Stories

by Edward M Wolfe

  “I’d like to have you fill out a complete family history to help us as much as possible with a diagnosis and treatment plan. Will you do that?”

  “Right now? I’d like to see him first. Can I please see my dad?” she asked, her voice trembling at the end of her sentence. Of all the people she could have ever imagined losing their minds, she never would have thought it possible for her dad to do so.

  “Yes. That might be a good idea. How about you spend some time with him, then come back and fill out some paperwork for me? Sound good?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” She stood up and smoothed out imaginary wrinkles on her Levi’s.

  The doctor came around his desk and walked out into the main hall of the institution. Lisa followed, glancing around at everyone and everything. She hated being here and she hated it even more that her father was here. As they walked through the open recreational area and then down an empty hallway, Lisa kept expecting to see someone acting totally crazy which would add to her feeling that her father didn’t belong here and that this wasn’t happening; couldn’t be happening. The doctor eventually stopped a few feet from an open doorway.

  “This is your father’s room. Don’t be surprised if he continues to be unaware of your presence. Remember, that’s how this started, so if he doesn’t respond to you, nothing has changed, and he hasn’t gotten worse. It just means the medication we’re giving him isn’t aiding him in seeing the real world yet. But we’ll make progress with him soon, I’m sure.”

  “Okay,” Lisa replied. Her mouth had gone dry. She’d already seen how her father was at his house and yet the thought that she was going to once again see him acting strange, acting crazy really, terrified her. This wasn’t right.

  “I’ll send someone for you in five minutes. Okay?”

  Lisa nodded. The doctor smiled and quietly left her alone to enter the room on her own. She approached the doorway and looked inside. Her father was lying on his back with his eyes open and a pleasant smile on his face.

  “Daddy?”

  The smile on his face widened. Lisa’s heart skipped a beat. He’s responding to me, she thought.

  “Thank god!” he said.

  “You’re back! Oh, Daddy! You had me worried to death.” She rushed into the room, relief flooding through her and bringing tears of joy to her eyes.

  “I can’t wait to get started, but I have to say, I’m not looking forward to coming back. I hope I get a long break this time. This could be a really beautiful planet if it wasn’t for the god damned people!” he said, and burst out in joyous laughter.

  Lisa froze, standing right next to his bed and looking down at him, realizing he wasn’t talking to her. He hadn’t said, “Thank god” because she was there to see him, or perhaps take him home. He was still talking to someone in his head. She sensed her knees unlocking and turned what would’ve been a collapse into an abrupt act of sitting, holding on to the bed as she suddenly sat on the floor beside it. She took one of her father’s hands and held it in both of hers. She cried now without restraint.

  “Please come back, Daddy. Please, please. I need you. Oh god!” She dropped her head onto the bed cover and cried into it.

  Her father didn’t react to his hand being taken away from where it had rested on his stomach atop his other hand, nor did he seem aware that Lisa was crying out to him. She lifted her head and looked at him. Her makeup was streaked and smeared on her face and on the bed.

  “Daddy, please wake up. I’ll take care of you. I promise. Just wake up and let me take you home.” She put her hands on his chest and shook him as if she merely needed to wake him up from a deep slumber where he was talking in his sleep.

  “Can we go now? I’m quite ready to leave,” he said.

  Again Lisa’s heart jumped in her chest. Did she wake him? Was that all he needed – someone to shake him out of a crazy sleep?

  “Yes, Daddy. We can go. I don’t care what the doctor says. They can’t keep you here. I’m taking you home.”

  “There’s just one more thing I need to do. Before I leave, I need to say goodbye to my daughter. She’s the only person I’ll miss.” His smile faded as he spoke this, but the bright clarity was still there in his eyes, hinting at the deep serenity of a man who knew peace in his heart and had no doubts about who he was or what his future held.

  “Oh god!” Lisa didn’t know what to think anymore. She felt like she was losing her mind too.

  “You’ll wait for me? Okay. I’ll be just a minute, Kiera.”

  Allen turned to Lisa and his eyes opened wide and a smile lit up his face as he saw her.

  “Lisa, honey!” He reached out to her and she fell onto the bed, embracing him and crying on his shoulder.

  “Daddy! You’re back!” she cried.

  “I never left, sweetheart, but I’m about to leave. I just couldn’t go without saying goodbye to you first. I didn’t expect it to be so easy though. I thought I’d have to drive to your house. But here you are. This is perfect.”

  “We have to get you home. I can’t stand seeing you in here.”

  Allen looked around at his surroundings for the first time and was amused to see that he wasn’t in his room at home as he had assumed he was when he “awoke.” He laughed as he realized he’d been away for a while. He understood where he was without asking. It made sense – as far as other people would be concerned. They didn’t know what he knew, or who he’d been talking to.

  “I’m sorry, Lisa honey. I must’ve frightened you. I assure you I’m just fine. But I can’t go with you. I’m going home now. You’ll find papers in my office that finalize all of my affairs and leave everything I have to you.”

  “I don’t understand… what are you saying?”

  “I also left you my journal. It will explain everything, but you can probably figure it out without reading it. You know me, sweetheart. I just wanted to hold you one last time and tell you that I love you. You enriched my life by being you. Thank you. I love you, dear.”

  Lisa hated hearing what her father was saying, but even still, something inside her calmed and she felt at ease. She didn’t know why she was feeling okay with the terrible things her father was saying. Part of her was aware that everything was okay; that this was a good thing that was happening. A great thing, actually. But she wanted to deny that knowledge and dramatize the loss of her father. She didn’t want him to go. But she knew he would. He had waited a long time for this day.

  “I love you too, Daddy; more than anything.”

  Her dad looked into her eyes and she felt his love and his energy. He had guided her through her life and made her love living and learning and becoming the best person she could be. She looked into his eyes and sent her love back to him.

  “I’ll always be with you, Lisa, in one way or another. You know that. But for now, it’s time for me to go.”

  She nodded and smiled, looking at him through bittersweet tears. She kissed her father one last time and said,

  “Goodbye, Daddy.”

  “Goodbye, sweetheart.” He leaned back against the headboard, closing his physical eyes and re-opening his inner eyes.

  He saw Kiera standing next the bed, smiling and patiently waiting for him. He could not see Lisa anymore, but he saw her energy in the space she occupied. He smiled at Kiera in gratitude for her being there. She was always there. He just hadn’t known it all the time. He wished she had made her presence known more often and more obviously.

  Kiera reached for Allen’s hands. She took hold of them and gently pulled him toward her. He came forward out of his body and moved close to her. She released one of his hands, but held on to the other as she began walking, leading him out through the wall, across the flowerbed, over the grass and into the beyond.

  It had been a long time since they’d been together like this.

  A whole lifetime.

  ###

  The Dregs

  April 19th, 2042.

  Acting on a credible, anonymous tip, the officers k
icked in the door of the small cottage. A standard poodle barked and rushed them. Officer Karnes aimed and fired. The first shot missed and he fired again as the dog squatted and leaped at him. The second shot sent the dog sailing backwards. It hit the ground and toppled over, coming to rest on its side, whining and panting as its blood pooled in the white carpet.

  “Freeze!” yelled the other officer, pointing his gun at an old woman who emerged from a doorway, holding one hand over her heart.

  “What are you doing? Why did you shoot my baby?”

  “Put your hands against the wall,” he commanded.

  “But I don’t—“

  “Now!”

  Both officers rushed into the hall. One of them slammed the lady against the wall, kicked her legs apart and frisked her, while the other checked the room she had come out of. It was bathroom, and it was empty. He then moved down the short hall to another door. He put his ear against it and listened.

  “This is the police. Come out with your hands up, or I’m coming in, shooting.” He took a few steps away from the door, placing his back against the hallway wall and aiming his gun at the door.

  Karnes cuffed the lady then swept his one foot at the back of her calves while pushing her backwards with a hand on her chest. She landed on her back and cried out in pain.

  “Shut it, scumbag. Don’t make me stomp on your face.” He pulled his gun out of its holster and pointed it at the door that Wilson was still aiming at. Karnes nodded and Wilson raised a foot and slammed it against the door next to the doorknob. The thin, hollow door crashed open and both officers rushed in.

  A black cat lying on the bedcover hissed at them. Wilson shot it and rushed over to the master bath door. He stopped and slowly peeked his head around the doorjamb. It was empty.

  “Clear!” he called out.

  “I’m gonna check the kitchen. Drag the bitch into the living room and find out where she’s hiding it.” Karnes left the room and stepped around the woman who was breathing rapidly and stifling sobs, arching her back to keep from pressing down on her cuffed hands.

  Her legs were sticking out into the hall and rather than step over them, Karnes kicked them out of his way. Wilson came out and grabbed the lady by her feet and dragged her down the hall into the living room. He let go of her when her face was adjacent to her dead dog.

  “Where is it?”

  “Oh, my dear Pooksie! What have they done to you?” The woman broke out in fresh sobs as she stared at the dead brown eyes of her beloved pet staring back at her.

  “I’m not fucking around, scumbag. Where are you hiding it?”

  “What are you talking about? I have no idea what’s going on. Why did you kill Pooksie?”

  “We know you’re holding, so the sooner you cooperate, the better things will go for you in court. Don’t make it worse for yourself by acting stupid and playing innocent.”

  He walked over to a shelf beside the couch and swept an array of collectible glass figurines to the floor. The small animals fell to the carpet with a series of thumps. It was less dramatic than he had hoped for so he pulled the shelf forward, causing everything to slide to the carpet and causing the shelf to crash into the coffee table, shattering the glass top. That was better.

  “Where is it?!” he demanded to know.

  The sound of crashing objects from the kitchen echoed into the living room. Wilson was ransacking the cabinets.

  “Got it!” he yelled.

  “You’re lucky. I was just starting to get pissed off. The D.A. will be informed of your failure to cooperate. You’re going down, bitch.”

  Wilson entered the living room hefting a zip-lock baggie with a granular, dark brown substance. It was damp and left residue on the baggie as he shifted it around.

  “Dregs. Probably half a pound. Recently used. She’s probably high on it right now.”

  Karnes looked down at her in disgust and saw the guilt in her eyes as she looked away.

  “I hope it was worth the rest of your life. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  ***

  Later, under questioning, the perp talked. The cops offered her a good word with the D.A. and a reduced sentence for cooperation if she’d reveal her source. At 64, she didn’t want to spend her remaining time in prison and agreed to tell them where she’d got the dregs. What she revealed was better than they had expected. They usually had to work their way up a distribution chain until they reached a big dealer. But Phyllis was well-connected, getting her fix from a major dealer with whom she’d played Bridge for years.

  The next morning found Karnes and Wilson participating in a multi-agency raid. It would’ve just been a D.E.A. team, but since the two Vice detectives provided the intel, the feds reluctantly permitted them to accompany the raid team. But they wouldn’t be first-in. The feds reserved the right to any action coming through the door.

  The sun crept up over the horizon as men in black took up positions all around a beige two-story house. The loudest sound around came from birds in nearby trees. The suspect’s house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac. The other end of the street was blocked off with police sawhorses with crime scene tape strung between them. Two officers stood with their backs to the suspect’s house, watching for any neighbors who might emerge to see what was going on.

  Four agents approached the front door carrying a battering ram. The lead agent spoke into his lapel mic.

  “Snipers, sit rep?”

  “Sniper One. All clear. In position.”

  “Roger, One.”

  “Sniper Two. Woman walking her dog past the end of the street… Okay, we’re clear. In position.”

  “Roger, Two.” He glanced around at the agents he could see, then spoke into his mic again. “We’re a Go. On three. One… Two… Three”

  The battering ram smashed through the front door. Glass shattered as other agents fired tear gas grenades through the front windows. One sniper peered through his scope at the upper level windows. The other perused the perimeter for anyone trying to escape.

  The battering ram agents withdrew, trotting backwards, and other agents with gas masks rushed in, yelling, “D.E.A. Nobody move!” and “Freeze, motherfuckers!” Agents spread throughout the house. Within a minute, they declared the downstairs clear. The lead agent, Gelkins, pointed at two agents and motioned for them to follow him up the stairs.

  A door near the second-floor landing creaked open and one of the agents fired past Gelkins.

  “Hold your fire!” he yelled, running up the stairs and taking a position beside the partially opened door. The two agents on the stairs came a little further up and aimed their guns at the door.

  “Come out with your hands up!” Gelkins ordered.

  Adrenaline raced through the three men as the door creaked again and slowly began to open. An elderly man in a dark blue robe carefully edged the door back with one foot, holding his hands high above his head. His hair was sticking out in every direction and his eyes were wide with fear behind lenses that make them look much larger than they were.

  “Face on the floor, asshole!” Gelkins screamed from three feet away. “Slowly!”

  The man bent down to his knees, then lowered his hands to the carpet to lower himself in a reverse push-up. Gelkins gestured with his gun. The two agents on the stairs rushed up and secured the prisoner. One pressed the man’s head into the carpet while the other patted down his backside and then cuffed him.

  Karnes and Wilson saw the perp coming down the stairs with the agents behind him.

  “How did you know?” the old man asked.

  “Your good friend Phyllis sang like a bird, shithead. Your career is over,” Karnes spat.

  “You didn’t hurt her, did you?” he asked, wincing in fear of the tactics that might’ve been employed to compel his lifelong friend to turn him in.

  “Only as much as necessary. Where’s your stash, you old puke?”

  “In the basement. You’ll find everything in the basement.”

  “Very smart!
I guess you still have some brain cells left.” Turning to the nearest D.E.A. agents, Karnes ordered, as if he were in charge of the scene, “Get this piece of shit out of here.”

  A voice came through one of the agents radios.

  “Jackpot! He’s got a whole fucking java-lab down here, along with a nursery, grinders, antique percolators, and everything else.”

  “I’ll never understand you fucking dregs,” Wilson said, watching as the man was escorted out his front door.

  ***

  Walter Brown was booked on charges of cultivation, trafficking, and possession of over fifty pounds of coffee. Phyllis Kant was charged with possession with intent to distribute. Her attorney argued that half a pound was nowhere near sufficient to distribute. The average coffee drinker could easily drink that much in less than a month. In addition, she had cooperated and was promised leniency. They wouldn’t have gotten Brown if it wasn’t for her. The D.A. agreed to simple possession and a term of a reduced sentence of six months in light of her assistance which led to the apprehension of a major trafficker.

  Brown’s trial commenced a few days later. He and his attorney sat in his cell facing the wall screen. Two metal folding chairs were brought in for the proceedings. The wall lit up and the face of the bailiff appeared.

  “Please rise. The Honorable Jacob Jackson presiding.”

  Brown and his attorney stood.

  “Defendant Walter Brown and attorney Sheldon Knight are visibly present, Your Honor.”

  “Court is in session,” the judge intoned.

  “You may be seated.” The bailiff stepped out of the camera view and repositioned it to aim at the judge’s bench, then rattled off the formal list of charges against Brown.

  “How do you plead?” the judge inquired, looking over his old-fashioned, half-framed glasses at the video monitor.

  “Your Honor,” the attorney spoke up, remaining in his seat. “Sheldon Knight, representing. My client pleads Guilty with an explanation.”