by David Beers
It took ten minutes, but Teddy showed up.
“Yes, Dr. Canonine?”
“Teddy, has Luke Titan been sending out any mail?”
“Why did you ask him to come here, Luke?”
Titan was chained again, the whole process taking 30 minutes. Edward didn’t like it, not for this patient, nor any of the others either, but it was necessary. Many of these people were very violent, and though it might not have been their fault, that also meant they couldn’t help it.
“Because I want to see him,” Titan said.
Edward needed to be careful not to overplay his hand.
“Did you think he might not want to see you, given what you’ve done to him?”
“I’m insane, doctor. The court itself has said so. It is completely possible that such a thought never occurred to me.”
“Did it occur to you that writing him could be construed as harassment? That it could result in the revoking of your mail privileges?”
“No,” Titan said. “In complete honesty, that never occurred to me.”
“It is harassment. It needs to stop. Now and forever.”
“Of course, Doctor. I want to be the model patient in your hospital.”
There wasn’t any sarcasm in Titan’s tone, but Edward knew he was being lied to. He never held any false notions that Titan would be truthful, or anything other than what he’d revealed to the outside world. Still, there was a coldness to this lie, an underlying message in it that said what Edward wanted didn’t matter. That it would never matter what he wanted again, because the man sitting across from him dictated everything, and would until the end of time.
You’re creeping yourself out. Stop it, he thought.
“I’m revoking your mail privileges, Luke. One month.”
“Okay, Dr. Canonine. If that’s what you feel is the appropriate punishment.”
“You’re choosing that word on purpose, and I know it,” Edward said. “You also know we don’t punish people here.”
“Okay, Doctor.”
Edward was feeling more uncomfortable each time Titan spoke. It was as if …
He knows. He knows why you’re asking about this. He knows it’s not the bullshit excuse you gave him that all letters are read and this one was brought to your attention. He knows Windsor is on his way, and that’s why you’re having this conversation.
Edward stood up. “Since we’ve seen each other twice this week already, I won’t be able to stop by until next week. I’ll see you then, Luke.”
He turned and went to the door. As his hand touched the handle, Titan said, “That’s a pity. Though, I understand, Eddie.”
Chapter 15
“Mr. Windsor, I’m very sorry, but as I told your mother, it’s just not possible to see Luke Titan.”
Christian looked at the doctor, about as disinterested as he’d ever been. He was finding it harder and harder to focus on the world around him. He and his mother had climbed into her minivan and driven across the country, though he’d spent much of the time sleeping in the back.
That’s all he wanted to do, even now, was sleep.
Falling unconscious meant leaving the world, if only for a time, and if that’s all Christian could have at the moment, then he’d take it.
“That’s not going to work for us,” his mother said.
Christian looked over to her, then back at the doctor. They were in his office; they’d at least made it that far inside. The man hadn’t met them outside yelling at them like some geriatric to get off his lawn. If Christian had been anywhere near his normal state, he might have understood why the Director didn’t want them to see Luke. He wasn’t though, and the best he could do was try to sit up straight and make sense when he spoke.
“Dr. Canonine,” Christian began. “I assume you know who I am, and what I’ve been through with Luke. Would you mind telling us why you don’t want me to see him?”
The doctor sat behind his desk. It was smaller, not something which portrayed the owner as having a huge ego. Christian could notice that, if not much else.
“He’s not ready for visitors yet. Having visitors too early could throw off his recovery.”
Christian closed his eyes. He knew his mother would begin talking if he let her, and she would be a battering ram. She was committed to doing whatever it took to get Christian in front of Luke, even if it meant taking this whole place down brick by brick.
Eyes closed, Christian said, “I think you’re lying. You have to be, or else you really don’t understand the person you have here. Luke isn’t going to recover. There’s a better chance that you will turn into one of Luke’s minions, than he somehow discovers the evil inside of him.” Christian looked at Canonine. “I’m asking why because I want to know. I’m not judging you. Your reason shows nothing about you, though your lies do. Tell me why you don’t want me to see him?”
To Canonine’s credit, he didn’t deny the lie.
“First you tell me why you want to see him.”
“If I don’t, I’m going to lose my mind.”
The doctor looked at him for a few seconds, his eyes narrow.
“I’m serious,” Christian said. “I’m not making that up. You call me Mr. Windsor, but I’m actually Dr. Windsor. I’ve got a PhD in psychology and I know what’s happening to me. Being completely upfront with you, I was going to kill myself rather than show up here, but my mother insisted we come.”
“What does Titan have to do with that? Shouldn’t you be in a hospital?”
Christian swallowed. “The only time my mind clears is when I’m in front of Luke. My mom wants me to see him.”
“So what?” Canonine said. “Even if what you’re telling me is true, you can’t sit in front of him forever. It’s not like you can just join the hospital as a patient. You’re talking about temporary relief.”
“We’re talking about relief,” his mother said. “Maybe temporary, maybe not, but my boy won’t kill himself.”
The room was quiet for a few moments. Christian looked at Canonine, not wanting to say anything else. He’d laid out his case and now the man would either accept it, or he wouldn’t.
“Is it the truth, though?”
The mouth was behind him. Christian didn’t turn around to view it; he knew the voice as well as he knew his own.
“Why are you lying to yourself? Is it because your mother’s next to you? You don’t want to say the truth while by her?”
Christian swallowed.
“Luke Titan is a dangerous patient,” Canonine said. He stood up and walked around the front of his desk, moving behind both Christian and his mother’s chairs. Christian turned just as the mouth dodged Canonine, agilely moving away from the window that Canonine stood in front of. “I’m coming to see that more and more, pretty much each time I speak with him. The world looks at him as gone, nothing left to worry about, but that’s not true. I have to worry about him. I won’t sit here and lie to you by saying there’s no professional benefit for me by housing him here. There might be that in spades … if I can maneuver around him.”
The doctor turned. Christian’s mother looked right at him, not seeing the giant mouth floating behind Canonine, swaying back and forth like a swing. Smiling.
Christian saw it, though. Of course he did.
“If I let you go see him, even for a few minutes, it could make him more dangerous. It could set something off inside him. I mean, I don’t know what it would do. So, no, I wasn’t lying to you when I said that he wasn’t ready for it. He’s not. I’m also not ready for it, and maybe that makes me less of a doctor; I don’t really know, but it’s the truth.”
Christian knew he should walk away. He should thank the doctor for his time, perhaps shake his hand, then walk out of here. He should say goodbye to his mother, hugs and kisses all around, then he should go out into that mountain wilderness. He should kill himself among the trees. He could end all this within the next few hours, and he knew it.
“You don’t want to,
though, do you?” the mouth asked.
No, he didn’t. He’d written a letter to Luke, saying that the two would never see each other again. He’d stayed away for months, visiting Veronica, planning his death. All of it wasn’t what he really wanted, though—and that was to sit in front of Luke once more.
“Only once more?” the mouth asked.
Christian didn’t know, but he also couldn’t put down the poison that was killing him. Indeed, like an alcoholic, he thought the poison was actually what might sustain his life. He knew all of this, and didn’t care. He wasn’t walking away, wasn’t going out to the car and hugging his mother goodbye. Christian was going to see Luke.
“Dr. Canonine, I can help with him, probably better than anyone else in the world. I can help you understand him. Behind the scenes, if you prefer. No one has to know. You want some professional success? I can help you achieve that, because no one else knows the Luke Titan’s intricacies like I do. Let me go down there and talk to him. I assume you have everything recorded? Watch us interact, then decide if you think I should be involved.”
The doctor’s eyes narrowed as he studied Christian, completely oblivious to the dark smile see-sawing behind him.
“Okay,” the doctor agreed.
Drink my blood.
Take my covenant.
Luke’s face had healed. It was strange, staring at him, even from outside the cell. Looking at him now, Christian knew there was no God. Luke’s very existence proved God’s nonexistence. Why would it create something so perfect, knowing that the creation would rise in revolt? Even his body’s ability to heal had to rival that of anyone to ever live.
His face looked as if Christian had never pummeled it to a bloody pulp.
He sat at a small table in his cell. Chains connected his wrists, another one on his ankles. Looped through both were two long chains that kept him bolted to both the ground and the table. He wouldn’t be able to move from the chair regardless of how hard he tried.
Two orderlies stood on either side of Christian. Christian had watched them chain Luke down, though he wondered if they realized how similar it was to caging a tiger. He wondered if they understood that’s exactly what they were doing.
Luke hadn’t even glanced at them as they worked, keeping his eyes on Christian the entire time.
And as for Christian? He was finally able to think, able to breathe. He finally felt like the splits in his head were whole again. His mind might not have been moving as quickly as it once did, but it certainly was faster than it’d been three hours ago.
Is he not focusing on the orderlies because he wants to look at you, or does he not want you to understand he already knows their motions? He’s looking for a way to escape. You know that. He wants out of here, has never even considered this to be anything more than a temporary stop.
Christian stepped forward and the orderly on his left moved with him, reaching out before Christian touched the door’s handle and flashing his badge against the reader. The light turned green and an audible unlatching could be heard inside the door.
Christian turned the handle and stepped inside, letting it close behind him.
“You came,” Luke said. “I’m sorry these accommodations aren’t as hospitable as my former home. It seems I’ve been humbled some.”
Christian stood with his hands at his sides, no pen, no paper, nothing but himself. “I don’t think anything will ever humble you.”
“Tell me, how did you get in? Dr. Canonine isn’t too happy with me right now. I think I’m starting to scare him.”
Christian ignored the question and walked over to the bed that sat against the far wall. It rested right beside the middle of the wall, with the foot facing the cell’s windows (which only revealed the hallway). He couldn’t hide from anyone by turning on his side; they’d still be able to see what he was up to.
The place was bare, which didn’t surprise Christian. Luke wouldn’t spend his time reading books; everything he needed was already inside his head. He was the ultimate Buddhist: he needed nothing of the outside world.
Nothing besides Christian.
“Ignoring me? Is that why you came? To just listen to me prattle while you admire my surroundings?”
“I told him I’d help him understand you,” Christian said.
Luke looked over his shoulder. “You must be kidding.”
He said nothing, instead squatting and pressing down on the mattress. Not even as comfortable as the hospital beds Luke had put him in so many times.
“Is he taking you up on the offer?”
“Who knows,” Christian said, standing back up. “He’s watching us now. I imagine he’s both doubtful and a bit scared. I’m not sure how the media would handle someone indicted for perjury assisting the doctor with the world’s most famous criminal. I imagine that’s on his mind as well.”
“What’s on yours?” Luke asked. “What brought you here?”
Christian walked to the other side of the table. He stood behind the chair, not sitting down. “I’m deciding whether or not to kill myself.”
“And being in front of me helps you think more clearly.”
The two were quiet, the camera on the wall seeing and hearing everything.
“You still amaze me, Christian. I’ve nearly given up on you twice in the past two years. Once in the mountains, and once during my time here. Each time, I think you’ve slipped too far, the pressure going too great. They may be my largest lapses, when I doubt you. Because you always come through. Even now.”
“What do you mean?” Christian said.
“You’re not here to judge whether or not to kill yourself. You’re here because you’re breaking free. Inch by inch, and it’s a slow process, but here you are. Becoming what you’re destined to be.”
Christian said nothing. To deny it now, in front of this man—the architect of it all. What would be the point?
Drink my blood.
Take my covenant.
“I’m curious, Christian. What is it you want? Do you still want to kill me or has that changed?” Glee floated across Luke’s eyes like lights on a dark lake. “I know you won’t answer, but it’s something you should ask yourself. It means we are either at the end or the beginning. I’m okay with either, as long as you keep inching forward, my friend.”
“There are multiple problems with what you’re proposing,” Edward said. “Perhaps the greatest being your mental stability.”
Windsor sat in Edward’s office, alone. His mother—thanks be to the heavens—had retired to a local motel. It was after 6:00 in the evening, but Edward didn’t think he’d be going home any time soon.
“You can’t look me in the eye and say you’re fine, can you?”
The man in front of him appeared different than the one Edward had read about. The person the newspapers described was borderline autistic, unsure of himself except in certain situations, and constantly fretting. The man in front of him now stared with eyes that said they could never scare. They weren’t dead, but they stared with the dead’s interest.
“No, I suppose I can’t,” Windsor said.
“And what you said in there with him today. The stuff about you being indicted for perjury charges, all that’s true, too. What’s going to happen with that?”
“I don’t know yet. My lawyers are working on it.”
“That’s not good enough, Dr. Windsor,” Edward said. “If I bring you on here, we’re talking about massive media presence if anyone finds out.”
“Then don’t let them find out.”
Edward gritted his teeth. He knew what he was doing; he was arguing with himself, not with Windsor. Because the truth was, he wanted this man to stay on. He had watched the way Titan interacted with him—how many years would it take Edward to have that same type of conversation? Would it ever occur?
He doubted it. There was a connection between these two that Edward would never replicate, and more, looking at Windsor, he didn’t want to either. For his own sanity�
��s sake.
“What can you help me with?” Edward asked. “If I bring you on as a consultant, given all the risk you pose, how are you going to make my life any better?”
“There are two main ways,” Windsor said. “The first being I can bring Luke down any path you want. Is there something you’d like to write a paper on?”
“I want to understand his delusions of grandeur. There are quite a few studies on psychopaths and what they think of themselves, but he surpasses those people. It would be a good addition to the canon, and I think a good entry point for me.”
“I can do that. Luke doesn’t speak to many people, not openly, but he’ll talk to me about anything I want.”
Edward nodded. “That’s the most tempting thing you’ve got. You’ll help me write papers. But, if this gets out, it won’t matter what I publish, it will all be discarded as your work. So it may not even be worth it.”
“And that’s where the second way I can help comes in, though you don’t see it yet. If you go down there with Luke for too long, you’ll lose your mind just like me. There’s no way you won’t. It’s not that he doesn’t like you, Dr. Canonine. It’s that by making you go insane, you’ll fit into his purpose. One more person who falls to disorder. That will happen, no matter how many papers you write. In the end, you’ll do something very bad. Something you don’t want to do. Something you can’t even imagine right now.”
“Like what?” Edward asked. His palms were sweaty and his mouth dry.
“Like tell him to slit someone’s throat that you love. That’s what I did.”
Chapter 16
Perhaps Edward had made the decision the moment Windsor first offered it. He thought that was probably the case, though he didn’t dwell on it. When you make a deal with the Devil, it was best not to think of the path that led you to it.