The Perfect Son

by Kyion S. Roebuck

  ***

  “Mother, what happened last night? I did something, didn’t I?” Cody asked as he and Kelly sat quietly in front of his school. He had woken up to bruises across his cheek, a cut on his nose, and a split lip. Suspiciously, his mother was wearing a thick scarf, and had bandages on several of her fingers.

  “Yes, Cody, something did happen, but don’t worry about it. I’m going to fix this. Everything is okay,” Kelly said plainly.

  “If I did something, then everything is not okay. Please, tell me what happened. It’s not okay,” Cody insisted.

  “It may not be okay right now, but it will be soon. Let me worry about this. You go on to school. I’ll be here at two thirty sharp.”

  For a long while, Cody stared at his mother, before he grabbed her into a tight hug. He then gathered his bag and left the car. Refusing to cry, Kelly put on her sunglasses, and then drove off.

  ***

  “Hello, I’m here to see Dr. Cruson. Tell him Kelly Winters needs to speak with him, immediately.”

  The receptionist looked up at the leggy blonde woman in Prada who was oozing power, and already knew that her once good morning was about to turn to shit.

  “I’m sorry ma’am, but he’s with a client at this time. Do you have an appointment?” she asked, pleasantly.

  “No, I do not, and this cannot wait for one, either. I need to speak with him, now,” Kelly said with authority, and the woman decided then and there that she was going to ask for a raise later in the day.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to either make an appointment, or come back at another time. He’s with a client right now and–”

  Without waiting another moment, Kelly headed to the office door down the hall.

  “Ma’am! You cannot just walk in when… Security!”

  “Dr. Cruson, we need to talk,” Kelly said as she walked in on the psychologist and what seemed to be a twelve-year-old boy.

  “Ah, Mrs. Winters, how good to see you. Unfortunately, as you can see–”

  “It’s okay, Dr. Cruson. I don’t want to be here anyway. You can just tell my dad I had a full session,” the boy spoke up, and Kelly looked from Dr. Cruson to him and then back, expectantly. Just then, the guard entered.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked while looking at Kelly. Without flinching, Kelly met his gaze full on.

  “No, it’s quite alright, Reese. Please, escort Jimmy out to the lobby, and shut the door on your way out.”

  Dutifully, the man obeyed, leaving Dr. Cruson to sigh over the unexpected turn to his day.

  “Kelly, what can I do for you?”

  “Cody, attacked me last night,” she said, and then whipped off her scarf and threw it across the desk. Deep purple and blue rings surrounded her throat, and Dr. Cruson couldn’t hold back a gasp.

  “Yeah, it shocked the hell out of me, too. He may not look it, but he’s strong. I debated between coming here and going to the hospital to see if I have any structural damage,” she said, and then barely repressed a shiver at the memory of Cody’s enraged face. She knew that it was not uncommon to hear of women being afraid of their nearly adult sons, but since Cody was only five seven and 125 pounds, Kelly figured she could take him if need be, especially considering she had him by an inch and ten pounds. Never before had she felt so utterly wrong.

  “Kelly, I do not understand. What has happened?” Dr. Cruson asked.

  “That’s what I would like to know. First, I went to you about the persistent amnesia and night terrors, and then you recommended that I take him to his primary physician. So, I take him to him, he runs every expensive test he could perform, and then says that there is nothing physiologically wrong with Cody, before sending me back to you. Now, here we are again, and he’s worse than ever. In addition to the original night terrors and amnesia, do I now have to prepare for bouts of insanity as well?”

  “Please, tell me exactly what happened,” the therapist said, and Kelly had to stop and count to ten. She was too angry to even breath properly, so recollecting her thoughts would take a serious effort.

  “The day passed by like any other day. He had been having trouble sleeping, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. He went to school, he came home, we made small talk–”

  “What did you talk about?”

  “A little of everything, but we mostly talked about his friend Sean and our dog, Sandy. He was convinced that they hated him.”

  Upon hearing the word hate, Dr. Cruson quickly zeroed in on that topic.

  “Did he seem particularly bothered by this prospect?”

  “No, not at all. He did his homework, completed his chores, laughed over dinner, and then he went to sleep.”

  “I see,” the therapist said, and then made a mental note before moving on. “Did he have any trouble getting to sleep?”

  “None that I could tell. He looked peaceful when I checked in on him, even more so than when he takes his pills.”

  ‘Pills!’ he thought, and then let his mind run over the possibilities. There were countless drugs, legal and illegal, that could lead to a psychotic episode.

  “What medication is he taking?” he asked concernedly, and Kelly turned ashen.

  “It’s just an herbal sleep aid I found at the health store. I asked our family doctor if it was okay, and he said that he didn’t believe it would cause any problems. Do you think that could have caused this?”

  Mentally, she was already preparing her lawsuit.

  “Kelly, please calm down. It is unlikely that the sleep aid is the culprit, but for the time being, I would discontinue its use to be on the safe side. Please continue,” Dr. Cruson said, disrupting her thoughts.

  “About three thirty this morning, I woke up to him destroying my office. He literally tore it apart, and by the time I got to him, he was simultaneously laughing and crying about some event his father and I are supposed to know about.”

  “He mentioned his father?” the therapist asked in surprise.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Was he one of the topics you discussed earlier in the day?”

  “No, but I was thinking about him,” Kelly said, before she grew even angrier. “Damn, just the thought of that bastard brings bad juju to my life…! Anyway, right after he mentioned whatever incident he was talking about, Cody decided that I had to die.”

  One look into Kelly’s eyes, and Dr. Cruson knew that she wasn’t exaggerating.

  “I see. It is quite possible that memories of the divorce are resurfacing. The intrusion of such a painful memory could cause atypical behavior to arise,” he said, pensively.

  “That’s just it; he doesn’t remember anything from last night. Besides, why would he attack me? I’m sure as hell not the one that caused the divorce.”

  Seeing just how close he was to opening an entirely different can of worms, Dr. Cruson pulled the conversation backed to his patient. He specialized in children for a reason.

  “It is not uncommon for memories to resurface disjointed or incomplete, nor is it uncommon for them to be appear fleetingly. The most important thing is that he remembered an event that took place prior to accident, but I cannot make any assessments without interacting with him. I am booked solid for the rest of the day, but I am willing to see him after hours. Can you bring him in at five o’clock?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be here.”

  ***

  “Good evening, Cody. How are you feeling, today?” Dr. Cruson asked as he surveyed the boy’s appearance. Besides the markings, he seemed no different from the session he had with him a week ago.

  “Physically, I feel fine, but I know something happened last night,” Cody said while looking sadly at Kelly, only shifting his gaze when Dr. Cruson spoke again.

  “Do you remember what happened last night?”

  “No, I don’t, but I can tell something did. My body is sore, I’m bruised, and my eyes and throat hurt as if I had been crying. Mother has been acting strange as well.”

 
At that, Dr. Cruson motioned for Kelly to remove her scarf. If possible, it appeared as though the discoloration had gotten worst.

  “Oh my God! Am I the cause of that?” Cody asked Dr. Cruson, before turning to Kelly. “Did I do all of that?”

  “Yes, Cody, you did,” Dr. Cruson answered. “Mrs. Winters, will you please wait in the lobby? I would like to speak with your son in private.”

  Wordlessly, Kelly rewrapped her scarf, and then exited the room. Cody sat perfectly still, shell-shocked.

  “Now that we’re alone, we can speak more freely, if you want. Have you had any past memories resurface? It doesn’t matter how small, or seemingly insignificant they may seem. Have you recalled any names, scents or sounds?”

  “No, I remember nothing. I’ve tried so hard, but nothing comes,” Cody said quietly. Dr. Cruson decided to change tactics.

  “I see… As you already know, your parents separated about a year before your accident. At the time, you were not handling it very well, and once the divorce was finalized, you got worse, which is why we started seeing each other. After your accident, besides your lost memories, you appeared to be doing well, so I didn’t bring any of that up. But, now, however…” Dr. Cruson said, before he calmly walked over to his file cabinet, pulled out a folder, and then silently handed several sheets of paper to Cody.

  Cody looked at them oddly, before turning his questioning gaze to the therapist.

  “What is all of this?”

  “Those are writings from some of our previous sessions before your accident. I think you will find them insightful.”

  Quickly, Cody riffled through them before looking up again, even more confused.

  “Are you sure? This isn’t my handwriting. I can barely even read it,” he said.

  “When you first came to me, you were very depressed, and depression can affect people in profound ways, including changing their penmanship.”

  At that, Cody nodded, and then quickly read through the papers. Meanwhile, Dr. Cruson analyzed every expression that flitted across the boy’s face. He knew exactly what those notes contained; anger and despair at feeling abandoned by his father, feelings of failure and rejection in regards to his mother, thoughts of suicide, and thoughts of running away from it all.

  “I showed you those writings, now, because you mentioned your father last night, right before you attacked your mother.”

  Completely forgotten, all of the papers Cody was holding fell to the floor.

  “What?”

  “It would seem some of your past memories are trying to return, but it is too early to tell. This is why it is important you alert your mother, or someone else that you trust, if any little thing comes to mind. Recovering from amnesia can be traumatic in itself, but you must remember, no matter how hurtful or scary the memories may seem, you’ve already lived through them once before, so you know that you can do it again,” Dr. Cruson said, before Cody nodded, firmly.

  “I understand, Sir.”

  “I’m glad that you do. Just remember that I am always here for you,” Dr. Cruson said as he walked Cody out. He made eye contact with Kelly, and she immediately sent Cody to the car.

  “Well, how did he seem?”

  “He didn’t appear to be any different from my last session. I even pushed him a bit more than I normally feel comfortable doing, but I did not get an atypical reaction. At this point, it is too early to tell. His memories can be naturally returning, or it could be the product of sleep deprivation. This could be the start of many memories returning, or an event like this may never happen again. It’s too early to tell. What I recommend you to do is document all of his behavioral nuances over the course of the weekend, and then return to my office for a session on Monday. We’ll then go from there.”

  ***

  “When I told you to document all of his behaviors, this isn’t quite what I had in mind,” Dr. Cruson said as he watched the video tape in his office. Instead of bringing him a journal filled with writing, Kelly had hidden cameras installed in every room in the house, including the bathroom.

  “Say what you will, but after everything I’ve been through this past weekend, I’m glad I had those cameras installed. It was money well spent.”

  On the screen, Cody was casually reading and writing, and then he got up and straightened his room, before he worked on his homework. He then went to sleep with Sandy joining him after his breath evened out. Fast forward to roughly an hour later, Sandy darted under the bed, only for Cody to spring awake looking disheveled and crazed. Cautiously, Sandy approached him before sniffing and licking his hand, and then darted back under the bed. Seconds later, with purpose, Cody made his way to his mother’s office, but the door was locked.

  “It appears that there is something of interest to him in that room,” Dr. Cruson said, without turning from the screen.

  “There’s nothing in there but papers for my work. He shouldn’t be concerned with any of that.”

  Seeing that he couldn’t enter the office, Cody casually walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, and rapidly searched every cabinet he could reach. Finally finding what he was looking for in the pantry, he ravenously ate a family size package of cookies and half a dozen doughnuts, before he turned to the fridge and guzzled milk directly from the carton.

  “Didn’t you inform me that since the accident his taste buds have changed, and sweet foods have fallen from his favor?” Dr. Cruson asked as he stared at the screen in wonderment.

  “I used to scold Cody about his diet almost daily, but since the accident, he’s been the one scolding me. This is the first time I’ve seen him eat anything remotely unhealthy in six months.”

  Finally satiated, Cody returned to his room, locked his door, pulled all of the drapes in his room, and then pulled out his laptop. For several hours, he typed without pause until he started losing his battle with sleep. Like a madman, he aggressively fought it off until he was shaking himself awake every few seconds. Not soon after that, he lost, and slept for an hour and a half, before he calmly woke up, cleaned the mess he seemed to be confused about, and then selected another book to read.

  “He did that all weekend. During the day, he’d be his normal calm and polite self, and then he’d sleep for a short while, only to wake up like that. The cycle did not stop until midday Sunday when he collapsed from exhaustion, and slept for twelve hours. I almost kept him out of school today, but he insisted on going,” Kelly said after setting the video to sixteen times normal speed.

  “Did you interact with him during these alternative episodes?”

  “Not willingly, no. They seem to only occur at night, which is scary as hell. On Friday night, the night of the same day we last spoke, I woke up to him standing over me, just staring through me as if he was in a trance. I had the cameras installed the next morning.”

  That admittance caused Dr. Cruson’s brow to furrow, and it appeared as if he had lots to say, but at the last moment he shook his head, and returned his expression to one of placidness.

  “Are you certain that this behavior only occurs at night? The pattern appears to be tied to his sleep cycle. Does he take naps at all?” he asked.

  “No, Cody has never liked naps, even when he was a baby. He’s one of the only people I know that can sleep for large blocks of uninterrupted time, so he usually just goes to bed earlier in the evening if he gets tired.”

  “I see,” Dr. Cruson said, before rewinding the film to a few parts of interest. Multiple times during his Saturday night escapade, Cody was seen with his head in his hands, rocking and crying, before flying into a rage, and then rapidly pacing. He’d then return to his typing as if his life depended on it.

  “Do you know what he’s typing?” Dr. Cruson asked.

  “No, that’s the thing. Ever since the accident, he’s been signing on under a guest account, because he couldn’t remember his password–” Kelly began.

  “But he remembered it just fine Saturday night,” Dr. Cruson finished.

&n
bsp; “Exactly. This is madness. Sean mentioned something about Cody not being Cody before he stopped coming over, but I didn’t pay him any attention. I figured he was just mad he couldn’t talk him into doing stupid shit anymore, but maybe this has been going on for longer than I thought. Is it possible for him to be two different people? What do they call it, multiple personalities or something?”

  “You’re referring to dissociative identity disorder. There is a possibility that he could fall along the dissociative spectrum, but it is far too early to make a diagnosis, especially one as extreme as that. The first thing we need to do is get him in for another round of testing to rule out any abnormal changes in his physiology, especially considering how quickly these behaviors have arose. In the meantime, I need to speak with him to see how he has responded to these changes,” Dr. Cruson said, calmly.

  “That’s fine by me as long as we’re actively moving towards a diagnosis and a solution,” Kelly said before walking out into the lobby to retrieve Cody. A moment later, they both returned.

  “I’ve decided to sit in on this session,” Kelly said.

  “Mrs. Winters, I understand your concerns, but to truly–”

  “No, I’m sitting in on this session. Since you’ve been seeing my son, I’ve stepped back, and gave you as much privacy as you wanted. Now, however, it is clear that something is seriously wrong, and I need every bit of available information at my disposal to make sound decisions regarding his physical and mental health, including those previous writings of his,” Kelly said, causing Dr. Cruson to let out a tired sigh.

  “Cody, please give me and your mother a moment as we discuss a few things,” he said, before beckoning Kelly to follow him out into the hallway. Once outside with the door closed, he turned to her.

  “Kelly, I know that you’re worried, but I really don’t think that this is a good idea. He may say that he isn’t bothered by your presence, and may even genuinely appear to be accepting of it, but nine times out of ten, patients hold back, especially children, when a loved one is present. Please allow me to speak with him alone. If anything even remotely serious arises, I will disclose it to you,” he said, before unlocking the door directly next to his office.