Absolute Zero

by Anlyn Hansell

  Warmth seeped through every pore in her body. His words felt like a tight embrace.

  “Can you give me a month?” She asked, trying to keep her voice unaffected by his admission.

  “No! A week,” he countered.

  “Three weeks,” she answered back.

  “Two days.”

  “Two days!? That’s not how you negotiate! We’re supposed to meet in the middle!” she laughed out.

  “I know. Two weeks. That’s my final word. No arguing.” He stated in a tone he used frequently in the boardroom.

  “Yes sir,” she responded immediately, to his obvious delight.

  His soft laugh filled her ear. “Now, say goodnight, I need to get some sleep. Stop calling me in the middle of the night,” he added cheekily.

  “I didn’t…!” she started but quickly blew out a breath. “You’re an ass,” she stated with a smile.

  *****

  She admitted she lied.

  He stared up at the ceiling, debating his sanity for having her checked out. Maybe this wasn’t the wisest thing he’d ever done. He could always call the firm in the morning and cancel the request. Or he could finally get some answers about the woman that had captured his heart and perhaps even his soul.

  His attention focused on the phone in his hand as he swiped the screen and immediately searched out the text she had sent him at his request. A picture appeared of the two of them. He stared at it for a while before settling the phone next to his hip.

  He would ask her to stay during her visit in two weeks. This separation had to be quite possibly the most frustrating thing he’d ever experienced. He would ask her to work in the Scottish facility. He would use the Oxford Project as the reason, but in reality?

  He just wanted Anne.

  *****

  Two weeks.

  How was she supposed to swing that? She thought as she continued to stare at the ceiling.

  Rand had made it clear he wanted her involved in the clinical testing, even requesting that she participate in administering the solution. He wanted everything perfect, no mistakes and he was right. If she had been involved in the previous testing, she would have surely researched and ensured the test subject was a good fit for the drug. She would have ensured that the solution was injected properly, if she had been given the opportunity, that is.

  It still haunted her.

  She still had no answers why someone would have sabotaged her study.

  This was her chance to redeem herself. The formula worked perfectly in pre-clinicals. It was revolutionary and it might just very well save Dunmed America. Or would it?

  Her thoughts immediately focused on Ian once again.

  He would either be extremely pleased or she would be shit-canned for her deception. If he would only talk to her about this, she might be able to discern whether or not the effort was even worth it. He was stubborn, no doubt. If he had already decided to sell the facility, she wondered that anything would change his mind.

  It was a chance she was more than willing to take.

  Her mind wandered to Ron and the unanswered questions she still needed. Time was limited and perhaps he had some of those answers locked away in his brain. Or maybe he was too far gone. She would never know unless she talked to him.

  He didn’t know who she was. She could certainly visit the facility and use her former credentials to talk to him. Besides, she was given permission by the family – in a way.

  She would pay Ron a visit tomorrow, she decided resolutely.

  *****

  “Ron Flemming?” The nurse seemed surprised for some reason, Anne thought as she shifted her weight nervously in front of the desk.

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. No one has visited him for a while. What was your name again?”

  “Dr. Anne Bennett,” she answered as she placed her purse on the counter in front of her. She could almost guess what would be asked next.

  “Do you mind if I…? I mean, its’ procedure…” the nurse shrugged with a friendly enough smile.

  Anne rooted through her purse to find her wallet. Her fingers flipped through the plastic sleeves until she found what she searched for. Pulling the small card out, she held it out in front of the nurse, purposely keeping her finger over the bottom right corner. If the woman decided to grab the card, she would surely have a bit of uncomfortable explaining to do.

  The picture on the card didn’t quite match the face of the woman standing before her.

  “San Diego? You came a long way…” She was studying the card. Never mind that it was six years old and she was no longer a Doctor at St. Luke’s, but the nurse wouldn’t know that.

  “I’m here consulting on a different case. I know Ron’s family, though. They asked if I would…talk to him, see if there was anything I might be able to…help with,” she pulled the card back and tucked it safely back in the sleeve.

  The nurse didn’t seem to object. Anne’s nerves calmed considerably.

  “Let me call Dr. Charles. He can take you to see Ron,” she added as she pressed the buttons on her phone and held the receiver to her ear. “He’ll probably be more than happy to talk with you…such a troubling case,” she seemed to talk to herself as she waited.

  “Dr. Charles? I have a Dr. Anne Bennett here to see Ron Flemming?” she started. Anne’s fingers crossed next to her hip as she listened to the one sided conversation that ensued.

  “He’ll be right down,” the nurse smiled after placing the receiver back down with a click moments later.

  *****

  “Why is he being restrained?” she asked as she looked at the man seated in a wheelchair through the glass.

  “For his protection and pretty much anyone else around him,” Dr. Charles answered as they both stared at him.

  Ron was a portly middle aged man with a few strands of hair crossing over his otherwise bald head. He looked somewhat vacant as he sat in the chair, his wrists bound to the armrests with thick Velcro straps.

  “Why?”

  The man next to her let out a long breath. “He’s fine most of the time. Quiet, somewhat docile, but every once in a while he gets violent. He tries to hurt himself. We have to feed him because he will try and stab himself with his utensils. If you come near him during one of his episodes, he’ll turn on you. We restrain him because we just never know when it’s going to happen.”

  Anne turned her gaze from Ron to the distinguished looking older man standing next to her. “Do you have any idea what happened to him? From what I gather, this happened suddenly. One day he was fine, the next day…”

  “This isn’t your typical nervous breakdown,” he answered. “I know that’s what the original treating doctor diagnosed. It’s not. It’s…unlike anything I’ve seen before.”

  “Can I talk to him?” Anne asked cautiously.

  “I don’t see why not. As long as you try not to upset him, although…I’m not quite sure what sets him off. I’d be glad to have your opinion, though.” He turned his eyes toward her. “He can’t communicate with you, you know. I think he can hear you, but he has difficulty responding. I’m not entirely sure if he understands. We’ve been trying to determine that through testing and we haven’t been successful yet,” his gaze returned back to the man beyond the glass.

  “Come on,” he stated as he stepped around her and opened the door. Anne took a deep breath; trying to calm her sudden bout of nerves.

  She walked slowly into the room, noting several other patients seated on the other side of the large sitting room. They didn’t acknowledge her presence, staring off but not really seeing, or at least it seemed that way to her.

  Dr. Charles led her to a wingback chair before slowly approaching Ron. He walked around the wheelchair and carefully turned Ron to face her. It didn’t seem to faze the older man. His mouth seemed slack, his eyes not expressing any form of emotion whatsoever as he looked at her, or rather through her.

  “Ron?” Dr. Charles asked as he seated himself next to Anne, t
o her utter disappointment. Well, what did she expect? Of course he wouldn’t leave her alone with him, she should have expected that. Although…it would make this so much more difficult…

  “Hello Ron. My name is Anne,” she stated gently with a warm smile on her face.

  “I know your niece, Lara?” she added, watching closely for any type of reaction from him. His eyes seemed to light ever so slightly with some form of recognition before his previously slack mouth seemed to move. A breath huffed out and his lips smacked twice.

  “She’s very nice. Very pretty too, but you already know that,” she added. “She wanted me to talk to you. I’m a neurosurgeon, you know. Just like you,” Anne stated tentatively. Ron’s mouth opened and closed several times.

  “Dr. Charles?” Anne’s gaze followed to the source of a woman’s voice. A nurse stood next to the Doctor’s chair.

  “Yes?”

  “Can I speak with you for a moment? We have a…could I just have a moment?” She seemed to choose her words carefully for some reason.

  “Dr. Bennet? Will you be Ok for a minute?” he asked quietly. “There’s an orderly in here,” he indicated a large man with a white uniform situated in the corner at a desk. Anne’s eyes shot from the Doctor to the nurse hoping that the nurse’s sudden appearance didn’t have anything to do with her.

  “Sh…sure,” she responded. He gave her a quick nod before removing his body from the chair and following the nurse.

  Anne turned her attention back to Ron who was staring at her with what seemed like a bit more of an intense stare.

  “My name is Dr. Anne Bennett, Ron. Do you know who I am?” she asked and it truly seemed as if her name sparked something. His eyes blinked hard and his torso began to move back and forth in a certain jerky rhythm. It was slight enough not to disturb the orderly, Anne noticed as her eyes swept to the man in the corner. He flipped the page of the magazine he was reading.

  “I’m working on a formula…” she started before Ron’s mouth began moving frantically but no words were coming out.

  “It’s Ok…it’s Ok,” she stated in the calmest voice possible.

  “Shh..” he sounded out in a shaking whisper.

  She sat immobile, listening to him.

  “Sssshhhhh….ugh.” he seemed frustrated. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he shook his head quickly.

  “Do you want me to be quiet?” Anne asked, completely intrigued by his reactions.

  The jerking motion of his torso was becoming more pronounced. “Nnnn….agh. Nuh,” moisture started to collect in his eyes she noticed. “Ruuuhhh,” he breathed out. The jerking stopped abruptly and his eyes became wide in his face.

  “Ruhhhh,” he said louder. Anne’s eyes immediately flew to the orderly and she tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was too late. He already noticed. He stood up.

  “Ruuuhhhughnnnn,” Ron heaved out. Spittle started to collect on the corner of his mouth as he stared at Anne.

  “Run?” She asked quietly, her attention now solely trained on Ron.

  “Runnnnn!” Ron yelled out causing the orderly to hasten his approach.

  “I’ll run. I’ll run. Calm down, Ron. It’ll be Ok,” she stated in a placating voice.

  His head swept from side to side. “Shhh…” he sounded as the orderly pulled his chair back. He immediately began to struggle against his restraints as Anne watched in horror. He was babbling, grunting, shaking his head in what she felt was sheer frustration as the chair was wheeled from the room.

  “I’m so sorry. Where’s Ron?” she heard a moment later. Her eyes were still attached to the last place she saw Ron before he was wheeled around a corner and out of view.

  “I guess he was about to have an episode,” she stated absently.

  “So,” he sat in the chair next to her once again. “What do you think? Any hope?”

  “You already know the answer to that,” she said in a bland voice, her eyes still not meeting his.

  “I know. It’s just…”

  “That’s not a nervous breakdown. Did he suffer any head trauma, anything that would explain…?” Anne interrupted him.

  “No. Nothing. This is the second hospital he’s been in, though. Bryn Mawr was the first but their records indicated no trauma whatsoever,” he stated, causing her gaze to finally turn to him.

  “Did they perform an MRI?”

  “Yes, Functional and Structural, they didn’t find anything,” he answered.

  “What about an MRS?” she asked.

  “What are you saying? Do you think this was chemically induced?” he asked.

  “He’s there. He’s in there,” she stated forcefully. “I’ve seen this with head trauma patients but not…it doesn’t make any sense,” she shook her head quickly. “It’s almost as if…”

  “What?” the Doctor asked after a few moments.

  “Almost as if someone or something did this to him.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The papers in Ron’s binder littered the entire surface of her kitchen table as she continued to pour over every formula, every report, every note scrawled in his choppy handwriting.

  If Beth called her a mad scientist, well…she never met Ron.

  Ian’s words came back to her as she studied one of many abstracts. Each drug was injectable. Most would destroy cells, not promote their growth. His previous research was a complete 180 from his last project. Her project.

  Why would he switch from destroying to promoting?

  She fingered through a stack of papers, some stapled, some dog-eared and separate, some looked as if they were previously crunched up then flattened out once again.

  The one in her hand was so completely mangled. From the brief abstract, it looked to be an injectable solution to destroy a malignant tumor. She pulled out another sheet with a formula so complex, it would take days to decipher. It too was wadded up at some point; then flattened out.

  She placed the stack back on the table and let out a long sigh as her eyes scanned over his work. For one thing, his research didn’t indicate any progression from previous research up to his last project. It just didn’t wash that he would change his approach that abruptly. For another thing, Ron was an absolute slob regarding his organizational skills. He was either a complete hack or so incredibly brilliant…

  At this point, she truly wasn’t sure.

  The jangle of keys sounded across the room toward the front door as it opened quickly revealing Irene.

  Irene with her signature scowl, of course.

  “Oh, joy,” Anne breathed out before turning her attention back to the mass of papers on the table.

  “Are you planning on staying here?” Irene huffed out as she wandered through the kitchen like she owned the place.

  Suddenly, Shay’s earlier invitation for fish sticks, tater tots and processed mac and cheese from a box didn’t seem so unappetizing anymore.

  “Nope,” she answered simply as her hands began to collect the papers back into a pile. She could hear the door to the closet open and close behind her.

  “Good,” she heard. Anne stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes before mouthing a silent ‘good’ to mimic the older woman’s snotty reply. Luckily she was facing the other direction.

  *****

  “So, I just mix in my processed relish, and voila! Homemade tartar sauce, baby!” Shay quipped as she continued to mix the greenish mass in a small bowl.

  “Impressive,” Anne deadpanned, leaning against the kitchen counter.

  “You know it,” Shay presented the bowl with a flourish. “Go take a seat,” she indicated the kitchen table behind her with a nod of her head.

  “Clara! Pooch!” she yelled, causing Anne to flinch from the volume of Shay’s voice as she wandered toward the table. It was only set for four.

  She purposely didn’t ask where Rand was. Knowing Shay, she would offer that up at some point, anyway.

  She seemed better tonight, at least. She was jovial, joking; back to t
he woman Anne had first met. It made her wonder if Rand told her or at least offered something up that appeased her. Again, she wouldn’t ask…

  The kids ran in the room climbing their chairs almost awkwardly, chattering on about…who knew what really.

  Eating with children was…interesting to say the least. If they weren’t telling on each other they were giggling at some inside joke, pelting each other in the head with their tater tots…

  “Pooch! Put that down! We have a guest!” Shay stabbed her fork in his direction as he prepared to launch another tot at his sister’s head.

  He threw it at Anne instead. It bounced off her cheek and landed on her plate.

  “I just farted,” he announced to the table before a choked giggle escaped from his sister’s mouth.

  “OH. MY. GOD.” Shay’s eyes were huge as she stared at Anne.

  Anne clamped her lips shut, dabbing at her cheek with her napkin and trying to control the shaking of her shoulders.

  “Do not laugh at them. It only encourages them to act like BEASTS,” Shay commanded toward Anne. “This is why we never have guests,” Shay stated on a frustrated breath. “Clara? NO!” She seemed to anticipate the little girl’s actions, causing Clara to drop the small piece of fish stick back to her plate.

  “No Jell-o. You got that? No one gets Jell-o if you keep acting like a couple of animals,” she admonished. Apparently this was a good threat, based on the fact that both children seemed to sit up straighter in their chairs.

  Shay’s eyes met Anne’s before she rolled them dramatically.

  *****

  “This is the best time of the day, I swear,” Shay stated before sipping her wine.

  The house was finally quiet, both kids were tucked in their beds and the two women were seated in Shay’s spacious living room on either side of the overstuffed couch.

  “You have a beautiful home,” Anne commented. And it was. Shay was a tasteful decorator and the home itself was quite impressive.

  “Yeah, well, Rand says we’re going to downsize. We’re on a budget, you know,” she stated but she didn’t seem to upset by it, at least in Anne’s estimation.

  “Really?” she responded, not quite sure what to say.