Mind-A suspense novel.

by Danny E. Allen

  Chapter Eleven

  The Regents assembled...

  It was Monday, early afternoon in late February. It was medical Regents meeting activities-week. Every professional was to go through protocol and examination. Each member went through their paces, being adjusted and re-filed in the client-quota. It was more about politics than policy. Dr. Peter was having a conversation with his direct-superior and was quite punitive. The regents were examining everything from top to bottom. As the day went on everyone’s talent proved competent.

  Yet there came a ‘red-herring’. The clock over the general desk had stop. No one noticed till shift-change when all those working realized it had not been noticed. As everyone left the day-shift it had been reset and most thought it just a coincidence. Dr. Peter was just preparing to leave when there came a strong-odor from down the hall. Usually, that area was kept immaculate the head-housekeeper always had taken care of the suites in that wing. Dr. Doule had gone to the reception for the board and couldn’t have known. So by eight, Peter had signed-out for the day. Security had started the night-shift. The pavilion-cameras watched as Dr. Peter walked the length of the parking-lot to his Audi sedan. The still night-air was fresh. Hours earlier a large bag, containing the rotting remains of rats, cats’ heads and dead-starlings were disposed of from Dr. Doule’s large-office.

  Peter drove off with out hesitation...too many times he’d seen dysfunction and anomaly in good people’s family. But in that case it was in a medical turning-point. He recognized it could not be changed-acutely. Many professional-textbooks went into the trials and treatises yet in conclusion the theory, was not far from exceeding. His dear friend died with people of unpretentious insidiousness un-expressed. The conversations, contemplations and considerations were all in implicitness... Never had he seemed to divorce for thought by ill-practical exuberance. He began to realize, she’d lived a very ocular-lamenting life. He impressively, moved-on. Entering the parking-lot’s exit he headed home. Ill-fortune was and is a pivotal-point of medical-technique. Many times concise implicit tended to divide and stride to separate-curer from the sick. He remembered while studying in college how the laws, of psychology were as simple as the law of gravity. Over 22 years, he never doubted it.

  Next morning, Peter walked to his office on the second-floor. Several personnel were standing in front of his office. A janitor had just cleaned and was carrying a trash-bag. Dr. Peter asked what had happened. “Bad-go’, Dr. McBride, someone ‘ogled’ my office.’ “...It seems petty and childish. Seems I’ve got a little-sprite to contend with“... Many of the gatherers began postulating on how and why. A few thought that it could have been a one-time thing Dr. Doule tried to divorce the idea from his-mind. The day went-on with everyone forgetting how as ‘prankster’ put a dead-rat and a cat’s head in Dr. Doule’s immaculate office. No one thought about it any longer... As therapist knows a ‘prank’ has deeper-contentions. If someone was responsible, it was for ‘civil’ disrepute and social-disregard. The police-security at Carsen were told not to register it as an incident. Incidents, sometimes reflected-on the victim as it did the perpetrator. It was not logical, or being-considerate yet Dr. Doule was of a high-rank that in internal and external reports went ahead though, subdued.

  Dr. Doule was entering the unit’s locked-staff’s entrance when the lights went-out. “Oh, hell.” He walked-out into the hall to see a figure with a police uniform on walking silently towards him. He didn’t say a word. As he approached he could see he was African-American as he came and unlocked the outer-door. Dr. Doule was slightly, moved. “Thanks.” He said breathless and walked calmly, to his office. He readjusted himself, and prepared for a meeting. Which was with the administrator over breakfast. By 3 p.m., he went to a weekend-gathering. ‘Merle’, his assistant had not noticed what had happened that day; Dr. Doule figured he was being “silly” and went to work. America was known for ultimately, blaspheme inter-terseness... He realized that in his-perception, things were not as contingent and America went on with its looping-ascetics. Dr. Peter was working, late. Dr. Doule had long gone home. He met with James the head-assistant. The second-floor Psyche wards were beginning evening bed-time. The many staff-members had retired to the station. All were carrying out tasks. On average days, everyone knew what was expected. He knew their protocol, regiment and professionalism. The role that night had included Dr. Doule as ‘brief’, Dr. Peter, and several on-call doctors upon a proficiency-of clientele.

  So the code-commiserate went-on enterprising, to carry-on duties, demands and decisions. The large cavalcade of methodologies took many faces. From the LPN who’d often went about passing-medicines, to physical therapist, in formative-duties to the dietician; in the final-focus by medical skills of purpose and process. Into which each knew the concise roles and the contentions of treatment. It was a policy and framing effort, to enlist the official and persona, role to fulfill. Many of the practices were installed as team-workers having close-ties. Who were carrying-out their jobs as intimate-affiliates. In fact, there had been both committed and conferred relationships to be given to assist, assert and abide-by considerate-official-ism. It was required to be enacting and workers affective. So the personal-edicts were closely, confirmed by rules and actions. It was a veritable enlisting incentive. That was leaving ‘little’-role by pretense. Most were agreeable in such terms. The board was asserted, confirming-the protocol of such ‘pro-feasibility’.

  With all the hospital medical manifests the clinical-code went along with better function. The ‘pretense’ added effective dimension to the bottom-line. So the evening-staff were afforded to eventual succinct-conviction that worked with a predicate-preamble; promulgating perceptional staff-provision. At principle motivation attunes and enacted among workers there. The design by what was a maturing-manifest that each personnel had to persists, as coalesce. Thus the elective human-edict was the mechanical working point. In what was a taking for the definitive-dimension of work and refining-recompense to be advocate. In what was a redeeming-doctrine in the confidence of convention at Carsen Psychological Center. There had been a minimum of staff exertion. There had been tentative in the ratification by staff employees. They had been certain in-volition to terms and trials. There had been passing theories made to invoke a tentative provision to standards. A comport invoice and condition. Each adapted to avail in proving patient-care.

  So much of the theories in policies were being invoked and of convention. There were many ideas in a large clinic of staff of the whys and where-for(s) designing the evolution of practicing protocol and policy for all who worked there. As Peter sat in his office after taking to new admits in clinic. He read some statute of preliminary as to how future ventures went. As the administrative oversight went he began noting new ramification as to how it was to be. An indelible, pretension as to how perfecting chart and charge was as each prevail. Peter forgot the strange-incident which happened several days ago. The night had fallen, the unit was quiet, quietness was typical yet in a mental facility it could become a site of extrication and violence. Carsen had seen the flare of clients acting-out. Yet aides were taught to handle such situations. In what is under the auspice of Center con-function, in duly method; by being more enforced in being caring not inflicting violent-contention.

  There were many parallels as perils in the provision of hospital care. The dark-knowledge of actual incident proves curtailing in contention. Surmising, there was a wide-device to this. Peter began prepping to leave when knocks came at the door. The aide walked in and asked if he’d seen a certain client who’d gotten up and was walking the halls. Darrick Caldwell, was a depression-client known to be violent but was now on medication and had it back under-control. He began to attend meetings and became adjusted. 6’3”, 280 pounds out from a time-out room. His voice carried through the whole unit. He knew the night-doctor and the D.O.C. Would tend to him. Yet in the
back of his mind, things probably would need his services. The night street-lights outside Peter’s office window shined brightly. He didn’t always work at night. The smoked pane kept the looming lighting lowest, went through the window as the artificial darkness made for an eerie-scene. He’d done all he could. Darrick would come down after a sedative given by the night LPN.

  Things seemed normal; he’d done his duties for the day. That night, he came home and he switched on the TV. The late night cable news was on... A man had been murdered at a bar in Greenwich Village. In what is the story of drinking and dispute... He went to the kitchen to catch a snack. His wife was asleep, he knew an animal shelter-officer across town. A friend who’d taken care of Brutus when he’d ran-off. It worried him just like the death of his-friend... He’d seen him one day, last week on-a trip to pick-up Brutus’s dog food at the Vet’s. Peter wasn’t a worrier. He realized the animal shelter was a ‘forlorn’ place. The officer had been there almost 30-years. Dr. McBride appreciated his work. How he had done a thankless job with dedication and resolve. “People just don’t get pets as they used to“... -He didn’t elaborate probably, because he’d have to explained so much human based misfortune... “Damn”... said Peter, he realized that Dr. Doule would be away on Friday and that they’d be on a clinical get-away that weekend.

  It was several days away but he hated surprises, lately. Darrick and Dr. Doule were the symptoms to a bigger-problem. So much experience had made him of crucial-need. While those profane went-on alone. Unsubstantiated in plight and circumstance. He knew the get away would heal any bad-emotion. He knew his wife would console him in the discharge of such negative-energies. In what is a volatile-creed cause of challenge and chances? His energies had always fallen along lines. In impact and imposing he’d succeeded and was satisfied. He’d thought about going into teaching after several more years. Which was to use his-opinion, thoughts and theories for posterity. Yet, as one’s life goes-on, without much change. The work, reward and reality continued, serving those less fortunate in a system of avenue-projection. To make ‘ideal’ by those in-charge in enigmatically and professionally, prolific.

  End.