Dark Cognitions

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Dark Cognitions Page 5

by Kimberlee R. Mendoza


  “Does a mother need something to call her boy?”

  “Yes, usually you do.”

  He pictured her corpulent body wedged tightly in her sunflower-yellow rocking chair, watching DVDs.

  “OK, you caught me. There’s this girl at my Bible study on Wednesdays…”

  He thrust his hand out. “OK, stop right there, Mother!”

  “You don’t even know what I am going to say. “

  “Yes, I do.” He sighed. “You’re hoping to set me up, am I right?”

  “She’s a lovely girl. She’s in medicine like you. Works at a veterinary hospital out in El Cajon.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Oh, now, come on. You have to meet her.”

  He chuckled, despite the fury rising in his throat. “No, Mom, I don’t.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because the last time I went along with this, the woman had a mustache and a bug collection.” His skin still crawled at her horrible hyena laugh.

  “I want grandchildren in this lifetime.” She huffed. “Isn’t there anyone you could date? You’re not a bad looking man. I don’t understand why you’ve had such trouble finding a wife.”

  “I have a lot of work to do, Mom.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  He closed his eyes and breathed deep. “I love you, but we’re not going to talk about this. I need to go.”

  “She really is cute.”

  “Good bye.” He hung up and laid his head on his desk. Between his best friend and his mother, he was going to lose his mind.

  ****

  Sylvia—a New York youth of Italian decent—sat across from Brian smacking her gum.

  Pop!

  It had been less than thirty minutes and Brian tried to remain calm. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. She looks like a cow chewing a cud. He couldn’t help but focus on her mouth. Chew, chew, pop! Her words echoed in his head; her teeth masticated her cud of gum.

  “So, you see, doctor,” Sylvia said, “I’m not sure why Ronnie doesn’t want me anymore. Pop!

  Brian rubbed his temples. I’ve got a few ideas, he thought, but said, “Well, Sylvia, I think we’ll finish up next week.”

  Sylvia looked at her watch. “But it’s only been a half hour.” Pop!

  Brian cringed. “Yes, but I’ve got an incredible migraine, and I don’t know how much help I can be to you right now.” Brian stood and motioned for her to do the same.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Manifold. Have you taken anything to help with the headache? My Aunt Lola always used to say that two aspirins and caffeine soda is just the thing to knock it right out.” Pop!

  Brian forced a grin. “That’s excellent advice. I’m sure I’ll be fine after I try that.” And you leaving wouldn’t hurt, either.

  “Well, OK.” Sylvia pulled at her tight-fitting leather skirt, grabbed her purse, and sauntered to the door. “Should I make another appointment for later this week?”

  “I’m booked for the rest of this week, but talk to Sheila on your way out. She’ll be able to set something up for you.”

  “Thank you, doctor.”

  Brian closed the door behind her and collapsed in his desk chair. Brian heard another of Sylvia’s fractured bubbles echo down the hallway. He buzzed Sheila.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “From now on, please make sure that all my patients spit out their gum before entering my office, understood?”

  “Sir?”

  “Please, Sheila. Absolutely no more gum chewing is allowed during counseling sessions. It’s distracting. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sir?”

  “Yes, Sheila?”

  “Your next appointment is here.”

  Brian groaned. “Send him in.”

  8

  Two women stood across the lobby staring at Danielle, whispering. A usual occurrence these days. Thank goodness, she had a few friends in the lion’s den.

  “Don’t let them get to you,” Ray said.

  Danielle glanced up and smiled. “Good morning, Dr. Jensen. Was I that obvious?”

  He turned to look at the gossiping pair and nodded. “People are dumb. The Bible even says as much.”

  “Really?” She laughed, and then grew serious. “Yeah, well, it changes everything.”

  His forehead creased. “Like what?”

  Could she say it? Actually spill what she was thinking? Weeks of mooning over this man, she needed the courage. “Like you, for instance.”

  “Me?”

  She licked her lips, struggling with a way to continue. “Yeah, you.”

  Resting his elbows on the counter, he leaned toward her. “Explain, please.”

  Big breath in. “Well, when you heard the rumor, it affected your opinion of me. I’m guessing that you will probably never ask me out, because you assume the rumors are true, even though I told you they weren’t.”

  He sat back up, a slight grin tugging at his lip. “You think I haven’t asked you out because of the rumors?”

  So stupid. Why did I say that? “Um, or there could be a million other reasons, I’m sure.”

  “My dear, that has nothing to do with it.”

  Her expression fell. How could I be this ridiculous? Her skin warmed. She probably looked like an embarrassed tomato. If only there was an “undo” button on life.

  “No, wait.” He held up his hands and laughed. “That sounded bad.”

  “A little. Yes.”

  “The truth is I’m kind of shy. I haven’t dated in a really long time.”

  “How long?” she heard herself say.

  His gaze dropped down, as if studying his hands. “I think that answer would tarnish your opinion of me forever.”

  “Then I won’t feel alone. Shoot.”

  He cleared his throat, and then glanced over both shoulders to make sure no one was listening. “Since my freshman year in college.”

  The shock of his confession had to show on her face. She knew her eyes were wide.

  “Anyway—” He slapped the counter and added a cheesy grin. “So, yeah. There it is.”

  “OK, now I’m curious. Why not? I mean...you’re a good looking man.” A shy smile escaped her lips.

  “I’m refusing to answer this time.” He stepped back as if to go, but then added, “But if I did date, you’d be my first pick.”

  Her heart did a somersault into her stomach. An internal warning chided her to maintain some sort of control, but she couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. “And if you ever feel ready to ask, I’ll say yes.”

  Their gazes locked, and a surge of energy passed between them, she was sure of it.

  Merle stepped out her office with a stack of files. “Danielle, could you stop by the records office? Oh, hello, Dr. Jensen. Did you need something?”

  He glanced over Danielle’s shoulder, and the spell was broken. “No, thank you. Your assistant, Ms. Tyler, has been very helpful.”

  Danielle pinched her lips together to avoid laughing. “Glad to be of service.”

  “We’ll talk again.”

  “I look forward to it.” She gave a mischievous grin. “You know, when you’re ready.”

  He winked and walked down the hall.

  Oh my. Danielle’s heart fluttered at top speed.

  “Danielle?”

  She spun to Merle in a daze. “I’m sorry. What did you need for me to do?”

  ****

  Brian turned off the green banker’s lamp that sat on his desk. A soft amber glow shadowed his office through the cracks in the shade. He crossed to the window and pulled back the blinds. The San Diego skyline glistened like illuminated diamonds in the night. Brian sipped from the drink in his hand and sighed. He dreaded going home. The woman who lay in his bed constantly reminded him how wrong his life was at the moment. He walked back to his seat and refilled his glass.

  Someone knocked on the door. “Come in.”

  An older Hisp
anic man dressed in tan overalls stuck his head in the door. “Excuse me, Dr. Manifold. Would you mind if I dumped your garbage?”

  Pete. Brian pushed a pencil holder in front of his glass and motioned for the custodian to enter.

  “I would have waited for you to leave, but I’m trying to get to my son’s play tonight.”

  Brian forced a smile.

  “He’s playing Horatio in Hamlet. You ever see it?” Pete dumped the trash in a large metal bin on wheels.

  Brian cleared his throat. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

  “Yeah.” Pete nodded as if Brian had said something profound. “Hard to understand that guy, but he’s famous.”

  Brian blinked. “That guy?”

  “Shakespeare.”

  “Right.” Brian eyed the drink, wanting desperately to finish it.

  “Yeah. My son’s a regular thespian. Loves that stuff.” Instead of moving to the door, he rattled on some more. “I wanted him to play football, but my wife insisted he follow his gifting. My favorite play was that one with the shy girl who had all those glass animals. Do you know which one I mean?”

  Brian knew, but he shook his head. Why won’t he just leave?

  “Oh, what was it called?” The custodian looked at the ceiling and snapped his fingers a few times. “Oh, I hate that. Don’t you just hate that?”

  No, I hate when people like you don’t just do your job and get out of my office, so I can finish my drink in peace. “Yes, of course.” Brian deliberately looked at his watch.

  It worked. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know I talk a lot. Besides, I don’t want to miss the rise.” He smiled. “That’s stage talk for the beginning of the show.”

  Brian nodded, but didn’t return the smile.

  Pete backed his cart out, and then snapped his fingers. “The Glass Menagerie. That’s right. The play I was talking about. Have you seen it?”

  Brian shook his head.

  “You really should. I loved it.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that,” Brian said dryly.

  The man nodded. “Good night, Dr. Manifold.”

  “Good night.” Brian stared at the closed door, and then grabbed his glass. He downed the remainder of the caramel-colored liquid and breathed deeply. Time to get out of here. He set down the glass, walked to the door, and turned the knob. Something stopped him. What was that? He turned around slowly and scanned the office.

  Empty.

  A shadow reflected from the drawn blinds. His heart raced. It’s probably just the alcohol in my system. Maybe I’m seeing things. He grabbed an umbrella by the door and stepped back into the room.

  “Hello? Danielle? Ray? Anybody there?”

  Silence.

  “Can we talk? I promise I won’t turn you in. I just want to talk to you.”

  Brian stepped to the desk and flipped the light back on. He turned around.

  Jake stood less than an inch behind him, sopping wet.

  Brian’s heart shot into his stomach. He jerked backward and knocked the phone off his desk. “Jake?” He tried to regain his composure and reached for the phone. “My goodness, what are you doing here? It is after 8:00 PM. The office closed hours ago.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Why don’t we book an appointment for tomorrow?” Brian grabbed his calendar and pen. “I need to get home and you shouldn’t be here.”

  “Tomorrow may be too late. We need to talk now.”

  Jake’s face seemed whiter than usual. His eyes were red, hollow, moist with tears.

  Brian perceived the urgency in the young man’s face. He wasn’t sure how to respond. If he sent Jake away and something bad happened, Brian would be held responsible.

  Of course, there were certain protocols, rules, which were clearly set up between client and therapist for a good reason. This was unmistakably a breach of those guidelines.

  “Jake, how’d you get in here?”

  “I don’t care. We have to talk.” Jake stood defiant.

  “Sure, but you need to know that this isn’t the way things are done. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I get it. Now, can we talk?”

  Brian grabbed a few tissues for him, and then motioned for Jake to sit. “OK, Jake,” Brian grabbed a notepad from the desk and sat. “What’s going on?”

  Jake sheltered his pallid face between his spindly fingers and sobbed.

  “It’ll be all right, son.” Brian said, soothing. He reached for the tissue box and set it down next to the boy’s knee. “Will you tell me what’s bothering you? I promise you’ll feel much better once you get it out. Trust me, everyone always does.”

  Jake wiped his nose with the arm of his coat. “I think I’m ready to confess.”

  “What do you need to confess?” Brian handed him another tissue.

  Jake blew his nose, buried his face in his hands and started to cry again. Brian moved to the couch and patted the broken teenager on the shoulder. “This is good. Just let it out. You can’t heal until you get rid of the mental poison in your mind.”

  Jake sniffed. “Poison?”

  “It’s a metaphor. I just meant in order to get well you have to be honest about the things that hurt you, and then let them go.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “In this case you talk about the things that cause you pain.”

  Jake roughly wiped his eyes with his palms. “I don’t know, Doc. I’m kind of scared.”

  “Well, of course you are. That’s perfectly natural.” Brian moved back to his chair. “Whenever you hold something in for any length of time it is hard to let it go. I think we become dependent on those things that hurt us.”

  Jake didn’t answer. He just stared down at his hands, as if he was thinking.

  Brian brought his folded hands to his chin and asked, “So, Jake, what would you like to tell me?”

  “I didn’t kill her exactly like you think.”

  “Kill who, Jake? Who did you kill?”

  Jake shook his head. “Nope. Not going to tell you that,” Jake smirked. “Nice try, though.”

  “Fine, don’t tell me her name. Just tell me the story.”

  “It’s been a while now, but I still remember it clearly. I was at this party in the valley and everybody was having a good time. People were toasting to some good news. Others danced and drank too much. Looking around the party, it was obvious that nobody could have known what would happen next.” Jake wiped at his eyes again. “Maybe if I had known I wouldn’t have gone. And then, I wouldn’t be here today. Who knows?” Jake sniffed.

  “What happened at the party, Jake?”

  Jake jumped up and started to pace. “It was a great night.”

  “I understand, son. Things happened that you probably didn’t want to happen. Am I right?”

  The young man stopped and faced Brian. Tears covered his face. “Yeah, nothing went right.”

  “Tell me about it,” Brian said.

  Jake let out a deep sigh. “I was so happy, and then everything went wrong.”

  “Tell me what happened, Jake? What went wrong?”

  Jake stared intently for a moment, and then sat back in the chair. “I pushed someone by accident and she died.”

  “Pushed who?”

  Jake stood and stepped to the window. “Why do you suppose we’re here?”

  “Pushed who, Jake?”

  “I told you. I’m not going to answer that.” Jake peeked through the blinds. “People who know me, I mean, who really know me, like me. Most other people judge me by what they see.”

  “And who are you?”

  “I’m nobody,” Jake said.

  Brian crossed to where the young man stood. “I don’t believe that. I think you just have to find how your piece fits in the world’s puzzle.” He patted the young man’s back and added, “But first you have to be honest.”

  “Yeah, right!” Jake slapped the glass hard enough to make Brian jump. “Be honest. Now there’s something that everyone
seems to be good at.” Jake faced Brian with piercing eyes. “No one is honest, Doc. No one.”

  Brian’s stomach turned. Something in the way Jake said, “No one” made him feel uneasy. Like “no one” was actually another name for Brian. He swallowed. “Why do you feel that way?”

  “Because everyone I know lives in a make believe world. They dress one way, but act another. Hypocrites!” Jake looked Brian over. “You put that suit on each day, and I bet you think it makes you a man. But I say you’re a big fraud. I guarantee if you put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt you’d be more yourself. Am I right?”

  Brian ignored his question. “Why do you wear all black?”

  Jake glanced down at his trench coat, and then to his city-camouflage pants and ripped t-shirt. “Because it’s me. I don’t want to fit into some mold.”

  “Ah, but you do.”

  “Oh, sure. I’d like to see you come to work dressed like this. I’m sure your boss would love that.”

  Brian sat back in his chair. “That mold you’re wearing is found in every mall in San Diego. I see tons of kids just like you running around with purple hair and combat boots, spouting through their pierced lips that they’re somehow unique. Ironically, they’re all still mimicking someone else’s style.”

  Jake jumped to his feet, his face red, his fist clenched. “I knew it! You’re just like the rest, Doc. You’re judging me by the way I look.”

  “I haven’t judged you, Jake. I’m simply telling you what I see.”

  Jake stepped forward and pressed into Brian’s chair. “And what do you see, doc?”

  Brian’s eye twitched and he labored to keep a stoic face. “A young man crying out for help.”

  Jake pushed back and laughed again. “No. I think it’s you who needs help, doc.”

  Brian raised an eyebrow. “And why do you say that?”

  “Because I can tell you have issues.”

  “Oh you can, can you? And what makes you think that?”

  An eerie grin emerged on Jake’s face. “I may only be eighteen, Doc, but I can read people pretty well. I can tell that you’re hiding something behind that doctor mask.”

 

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