Mindbend

by Robin Cook

  In panic, Adam glanced around the tiny room for someplace to hide. There was nowhere. Even the locker was too narrow to squeeze into. Then he had an idea. He pulled his hair forward over his forehead and yanked the grease-stained pants down around his ankles. Hobbling over to the exposed toilet, he sat down. A Penthouse magazine was laying next to the toilet, and he picked it up and put it on his lap. In a couple of minutes he heard a key in the lock and the door swung open.

  Adam looked up. A steward was standing in the doorway. Adam saw Mr. Powell right behind him and heard Captain Nordstrom, who was still protesting. Powell gave Adam a look of disgust and moved on. The steward slammed the door behind him.

  For a moment, Adam didn’t move. He could hear the group noisily moving farther down the corridor. Finally, he stood up and pulled up his pants. Taking the Penthouse over to the bunk, he tried to read but was too scared the search party would return. In the end, he fell back to sleep until a loud banging announced the ship had docked. It was five-fifteen.

  The next hour and a quarter were the longest in Adam’s life. People would occasionally pass in the passageway, and each time Adam was sure they were coming to find him.

  At six-thirty José came back.

  “Everything is ready,” he said, going over to the locker and getting out the bottle of dark rum. “First, I think you better have a drink.”

  “Do you think I need it?”

  “Yup,” said José as he handed Adam a glass. “I would take it if I were you.”

  Adam took a small sip, but the liquor was rough and bitter. He shook his head and handed the glass back to José. Unconcerned, José tossed it down.

  Returning the bottle to the locker, José rubbed his hands. “Your name’s Angel in case someone asks. But I don’t think you’ll have to do much talking.”

  José opened the door to the corridor and motioned Adam to follow him.

  CHAPTER

  14

  Jennifer had a restless night and was in the kitchen when the phone rang at seven forty-five. She answered it quickly, thinking that her parents were still sleeping, but her mother had already picked up.

  “I’ve got it, mother,” said Jennifer when she heard Dr. Vandermer’s voice.

  “Good morning, Jennifer,” he said. “We’re all set to take you at three-thirty. I’m sorry it’s so late, but we’re so busy we had trouble even fitting you in. Just stick to clear liquids and by tonight it will be all over and you can order whatever you want for dinner.”

  “OK,” said Jennifer without much feeling. “How long will I be staying?”

  “Probably just overnight. I’ll explain things to you when you are here.”

  “What time should I check in?”

  “Why not drive over later this morning? That way we can do the routine admission work. And if the surgical schedule lightens up, maybe we can take you earlier. Meanwhile, just relax and let me worry about the details.”

  Jennifer made herself some coffee and walked out into the garden. For a moment she had second thoughts, but then she decided she was doing the right thing. Both Dr. Vandermer and her parents felt she had no other choice. She just wished Adam was there to share in the decision.

  • • •

  Adam followed José, trying to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. They walked the length of the passageway, passing the mess, and descended a steep flight of stairs. The crew members they encountered seemed to take Adam’s presence for granted. Even so, it was a nerve-racking experience for Adam. He kept expecting someone to recognize him and sound the alarm.

  When they reached the lowest level, they began to walk aft down a narrow corridor that was lined with pipes and smelled of diesel fuel. They passed rooms filled with machines, which Adam guessed were the generators. A number of men were working there, stripped to their waists, their bodies glistening with sweat. The noise was deafening.

  They walked until they came to a large dark room filled with painted metal dumpsters on casters that stank from the garbage they contained. José went in and guided Adam to the far corner, where two men were sitting on the floor playing blackjack. As José approached, the larger fellow glanced up and then went back to his game.

  “Hit me easylike,” he said to the smaller man as José squatted down.

  In the wall behind the player was a wide opening through which Adam could see a portion of the bustling pier. A swath of radiant sunlight, which looked heavenly in the hellish surroundings, slanted into the room.

  “Hallelujah,” he muttered as he moved over to the lower door, shielding his eyes from the intensity of the tropical sun. He felt so close to land—and freedom. Never mind that he still didn’t see how he’d get there. He glanced outside at the concrete pier again and his elation vanished. To his immediate right was a passenger gangway carefully guarded by a brace of white-jacketed stewards who were carefully screening anyone leaving the ship.

  “José, there’s no way I can walk out there without being stopped,” said Adam, trying to control his voice.

  Without looking up from the card game, José said, “Just wait.”

  Adam stood there for a few minutes, wondering what to do.

  “José,” he said, “is this how you’re getting me off the ship?” He nodded toward the gangway.

  “Nope,” said José, “the best is yet to come.”

  “What are you planning?” said Adam angrily.

  José didn’t answer. Going back to the opening, Adam stared longingly at the green hills rising gently from the harbor. They were dotted with small cottages. He was about to question José again when a line of yellow garbage trucks started down the pier, belching diesel smoke from vertical exhaust pipes. They came to a halt not far from the ship’s side, one behind the other. Then there was a fearful blast of an air horn.

  The cardplayers cursed, threw down their cards, and went over to the nearest dumpster. With the big fellow pushing and the other two pulling, they rolled it down the ramp and up to the lead truck. While the men returned for another dumpster, the truck went to work. Large hydraulic arms came forward and grabbed the dumpster, lifting it high over the truck’s cab and dumping the contents in back. It was all done very neatly because the dumpster had a metal lid that did not open until the last moment. By the time the dumpster was slammed back onto the concrete, José and the others had the next one out on the quay. After a few more loads had been swallowed by the truck, José shouted to Adam, “OK, come over here.”

  Adam followed him to the next dumpster in line.

  “You’re going out with the trash,” said José. The three men began to laugh.

  “You want me to get into that?” asked Adam with horror.

  “You’ve no time to argue,” said José. “This is the last load for the first truck.”

  “Is this the only way off the ship?” asked Adam.

  “The only way,” said the huskier cardplayer. “I did it myself once. Not the fanciest way to ride around town, but it ain’t crowded.”

  “Where will it take me?” asked Adam, considering what he should do if he went through with their plan.

  “Right out to a landfill near the airport.”

  “Jesus,” said Adam. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to send me out with the garbage.”

  “This ain’t garbage,” said the cardplayer. “We dump that into the ocean. This is trash.”

  The truck’s air horn impatiently sounded.

  “You have to go,” said José. “You can’t hang around my cabin forever. Put your foot here.” He made a platform of his hands and, against his better judgment, Adam used it as a step. The big cardplayer lifted the dumpster’s lid, and with a swift movement José tossed Adam headfirst into the mess of boxes, paper, waxed containers, and other debris. And contrary to what the cardplayer had said, there was garbage, too. The lid banged down, and Adam was plunged into darkness. He felt the dumpster roll down the ramp onto the pier. Then there was a violent jolt and Adam visualized his rise from the
ground. The dumpster shook, tilted upside down, and with a flash of light Adam screamed and flew into the back of the truck. He ended up on his hands and knees, covered with trash.

  Almost at once the truck began to roll. It was well away from the pier before Adam worked his head clear of the trash. The junk cushioned his ride, and he was not disturbed by the bumpy road. But after a few minutes the tropical sun turned the truck’s metal shell into a broiling oven. Adam began to sweat, and by the time the truck got to the landfill he didn’t care what happened to him as long as he could get out. He was dimly aware of a diesel whining beneath him as the back of the truck began to lift. A moment later he shot onto an enormous pile of trash. He got to his feet in time to see his truck lumber away.

  No one had seen him leave the ship. He was safe. Looking about, he could see the tiny island airport two hundred yards to his right. To his left, the blue Caribbean stretched as far as he could see.

  Dusting himself off as best he could, Adam started walking to the terminal.

  The airport was a casual affair with an entrance crowded with colorfully painted taxis. As Adam started inside, he saw a group of tourists eyeing him nervously. It was clear that he could not casually buy a ticket unless he did something about his appearance. Ducking into a small store, he charged a pair of jeans and a tee shirt that cheerfully proclaimed: “Come to St. Thomas.” In the crowded men’s room Adam found an empty stall and changed his shirt and pants. On the way out, he tossed José old clothes into the trash where they certainly belonged.

  Looking about, Adam spotted the flight schedules, which were displayed on felt boards with white plastic letters. There were two major carriers: American and Eastern. To his delight, Adam realized that he could easily make American’s nonstop flight to New York, which would leave at nine-twenty. He got at the end of the line to buy his ticket.

  The line crept forward at a snail’s pace, and Adam began to fear he would miss the plane.

  “One-way ticket to New York,” he said when he finally reached the counter.

  The girl glared at him as if she thought his casual dress, unshaved face, and lack of luggage a little odd, but all she said was, “How do you plan to pay?”

  “Credit card,” said Adam as he pulled out his wallet, which had somehow snagged a piece of lemon peel. Embarrassed, Adam flicked it off and extracted his Visa card.

  The girl looked at the card and requested some identification. Adam went back to his wallet and pulled out his driver’s license. The girl checked it, then showed it to the heavyset clerk at the next counter.

  “The Visa card is for Schonberg, but the license reads Smyth,” the man said, coming over to Adam.

  Beet red, Adam got out his real license plus his Arolen employment card that had his picture and handed them over. He tried to explain that a friend had entrusted him with his license.

  “Would you step to the side, please?” the man said, taking Adam’s cards and disappearing through a door. Adam tried not to appear nervous as the girl continued to sell tickets to the rest of the people in line, eyeing Adam from time to time to make sure he was not about to leave.

  It was nearly ten minutes before the clerk returned with an airline agent who told Adam he was Baldwin Jacob, the supervisor. He was holding Adam’s cards.

  “We’ll issue you a ticket,” he said, “but the flight is full. You’ll have to go standby.”

  Adam nodded. There was nothing else he could do. The clerk made out the ticket and pointedly asked Adam if he had any luggage.

  “No,” said Adam. “I travel light when I’m on vacation.”

  He walked over to a cafeteria and bought a couple of donuts and a cup of coffee, happy not to have to worry about the possibility of being drugged. Then he put through a call to the Carsons’. Just as he’d feared, Jennifer didn’t answer the phone. Instead, Mr. Carson’s baritone echoed over the wire.

  “Hello,” said Adam more cheerfully than he felt. “This is Adam. Is Jennifer awake yet?”

  “Jennifer is not here,” said Mr. Carson in a distinctly unfriendly voice.

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t think you can reach her.”

  “Look, I know you love your daughter,” said Adam, “but the fact of the matter is that I am her husband, and it is urgent that I speak with her.”

  There was a pause as Mr. Carson apparently made up his mind. “She’s not here. She and her mother just left for the Julian Clinic. They are admitting her this morning.”

  “Admitting her?” repeated Adam with alarm. “Why is she being admitted? Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine,” said Mr. Carson. “And that’s why I think you should leave her alone for a few days. After that, you two can iron out your differences. But frankly, Adam, your being away at this time is very upsetting.”

  “Why? What’s going on?” said Adam, trying to control his fear.

  “Jennifer had a repeat amniocentesis,” said Mr. Carson, “and it was again positive. She’s decided to have an abortion.”

  Adam felt something snap. “She doesn’t need an abortion,” he shouted.

  “That’s your opinion,” said Mr. Carson calmly. “It is not ours or Jennifer’s, and under the circumstances, there’s not a lot you can do about it.”

  There was a click. The line was dead.

  In a panic, Adam tried to call Jennifer at the clinic, only to learn that she had not been assigned a room yet and, no, patients could not be paged.

  Adam slammed the phone down. There was still a half hour before flight time. He tried calling Vandermer, but was told he was in surgery.

  Leaving the phone booth, Adam ran back to the American Airlines counter, which was now jammed with people trying to check in for the flight. Pushing and shoving, he managed to get to the front of the line and asked to speak to the supervisor.

  It was several minutes before Mr. Jacob appeared. Not even trying to conceal his rising hysteria, Adam told the man he had to get to New York because his wife was going to have a baby.

  The supervisor took Adam’s ticket and without saying anything checked the computer. “We’ll do the best we can, but, as I said, the flight is fully booked.”

  Adam didn’t know what to do. Jacob obviously wasn’t going to put out any extraordinary effort for his sake. Adam stood there, trying to think what he could do. Then he ran back to the telephone and put in a call to an old friend from college, Harvey Hatfield. Harvey had finished law school and was working at a big Wall Street firm. Without going into details, Adam told Harvey that his wife was going to have an abortion and he wanted to stop her.

  Harvey seemed to think he was kidding. “So why are you calling a firm that specializes in corporate mergers?” he asked.

  “Jesus, Harvey, I’m serious.”

  “Well, you’d better get someone who specializes in litigation. Try Emmet Redford. He’s a friend of my father.”

  “Thanks,” said Adam as his flight was announced over the loudspeaker, the flight he hoped to be on. He dropped the receiver and ran back to the counter, where he practically flung himself at the clerk he’d originally approached.

  “Please, Miss, I’ve got to get on the plane. My wife is having a baby and it’s going to die unless I get to New York.”

  For the first time, Adam had the feeling that someone was taking pity on him. The girl stared into his frantic eyes and said, “I’ll put you on top of the standby list.”

  Adam allowed himself a little hope, but a few more passengers arrived breathlessly and were given boarding passes. Then a portly man showed up with a walkie-talkie. He went through the boarding gate and pulled it closed behind him.

  “Mr. Schonberg,” called Carol, the airline clerk.

  Adam dashed back to the desk, but Carol was shaking her head. “Sorry, but the plane is completely full. No standbys at all.”

  Crushed, Adam collapsed into a seat. He could hear the whine of the jet engines starting up outside. Then the boarding door reopened and a stewarde
ss appeared, holding up one finger.

  The clerk turned to Adam. “Seems like there is one seat, but it is in smoking. Do you want it?”

  • • •

  Unfortunately, the receptionist who greeted Jennifer at the Julian Clinic was the same girl who had helped admit Cheryl Tedesco. Seeing Karen Krinitz in her white blouse and blue jumper, Jennifer remembered the whole awful episode. Karen, however, acted as if they’d never met. She greeted Jennifer and her mother with the same mechanical smile.

  “Hi! I’m Karen. I’ve been assigned to your case. I’m here to help if you have any questions or problems. We want your stay to be as pleasant as possible, so please call me if you need anything.”

  “Well, isn’t that nice,” said Mrs. Carson, but Jennifer had the strange feeling she had heard the entire speech before—word for word.

  Karen went on, explaining the Julian philosophy. When she was done, Mrs. Carson thanked her enthusiastically, saying, “I’m not sure I’ll ever be satisfied with Englewood Memorial after this. There is so much concern for the patient here.”

  Jennifer nodded. The clinic certainly cared about people. Yet Karen’s speech bothered Jennifer. She had felt it was a little too pat the first time she’d heard it.

  Jennifer sighed. She decided the experience with Cheryl was upsetting her. Who cared if a woman memorized a speech that she was required to give to all the patients?

  “Are you all right, dear?” asked Mrs. Carson.

  “I’m fine, mother,” said Jennifer as she watched Karen recede down the hall. “Thanks for coming with me today. It means a lot to me.”

  Mrs. Carson reached over and gave her daughter a hug. She didn’t want Jennifer to know how worried she really was.

  • • •

  The moment Adam’s plane landed at Kennedy he ran for the nearest phone booth. First, he called the Julian Clinic and asked to be put through to Jennifer’s room. There was no answer. Then he dialed again and asked when Jennifer’s procedure was scheduled. When the operator asked who wanted to know, he said Dr. Smyth. The operator seemed to accept his answer, and a moment later a nurse came on the line and said that Jennifer Schonberg was set for that afternoon.