Dark Cognitions

by Kimberlee R. Mendoza

  “Hello? Dr. Manifold? Are you in there?” Her heart hammered. She lifted a hand to the door, and then closed it in a fist, hesitant to discover what lay within.

  The receptionist’s telephone echoed down the dark hallway, almost sending her into cardiac arrest. Swallowing, she pushed the door. “Dr. Manifold? Brian?”

  A groan sounded from behind the couch.

  She leaned forward, keeping her feet planted.

  A lock of the doctor’s brown hair was draped across the arm of the couch.

  “Dr. Manifold, are you OK?” She stepped around the couch and stared in horror.

  A diminutive crimson river flowed from the doctor’s ear, and a gun hung loosely from his hand.

  Timidly, she grabbed the weapon and tossed it into a nearby chair, then pulled off her sweater and pressed it against his wound, before checking his pulse with her free hand. Weak.

  She pulled her cell phone out. Unable to remember the direct line to the ER on the bottom floor, she dialed the shack below. “Security?” Danielle yelled once someone answered. “Hurry and get up here! Dr. Manifold shot himself!”

  In what seemed like hours, two security guards armed with only nightsticks and brawn bolted through the office door.

  “What happened?” Bernie, the older of the two guards, ran over and knelt next to them.

  “I heard a gunshot.” Her lip quivered. She blinked back tears and pointed to the nearby chair. “The gun is there.”

  The guard lifted his radio. “Mac, get someone in ER to bring up a gurney. We have an injured man and shots fired.”

  The radio squawked. “Say again.”

  “Bring a gurney from ER. One of the doctors has been shot!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The other guard, Les, peeked over the couch with one eyebrow raised. Instantly, his face became grass green. He bolted for a trashcan by the door and expelled the contents of his stomach.

  Dani grimaced.

  “Les, why don’t you check the other offices?” Bernie asked.

  The man nodded without saying a word and stepped into the hallway.

  Danielle wanted to join him. Nausea fluttered through her stomach, as well.

  “Did you see what happened?” Bernie searched her face.

  She shook her head, her gaze lingering on the doorway. “I just heard the shot, and found him with the gun.”

  “I see.” He nodded and put a couple fingers to the inert man’s neck. “His pulse is weak.”

  An elevator bell chimed in the hallway and clear relief crossed the guard’s face.

  Hers, too, she was sure. It took everything in her not to bolt. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen blood before. But this was Brian—her colleague, and once, a friend.

  Les entered. “All clear.”

  Two medical personnel entered with a gurney.

  Danielle stood and stared at her scarlet hands. “May I go home?”

  “I’m sorry. Not yet.” Bernie offered a tight smile. “The cops will want to talk to you. Why don’t you go with Les to the ER waiting room, and I’ll let the police know that you’re there.” He faced his partner. “Let her clean up and get some coffee. And wipe your face.” Bernie motioned his hand over his own face in rapid circles. “You’ve got stuff, um… “

  “Yes, sir.” Les wiped at his face with the back of his brown sleeve. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve just never seen anything like this.”

  “No worries, son. It’s your first week.” Bernie patted Les’s back. “Just take care of the lady, OK? I’ll work this out.”

  Les nodded and faced her. “Come on, miss.”

  Call Ray. She pulled at her purse and fumbled with the zipper. Her hands were shaking so bad, the leather bag toppled to the floor. Lipsticks and coins rolled around the moving cart.

  Les bent down and helped her gather her stuff.

  “Sorry, I was looking for my phone.”

  The guard lifted the black rectangle in the air.

  “Thank you,” she said, with a half-hearted smile.

  “Sure.”

  The elevator slid open.

  In the waiting room, people waited. A man sat with a bag of ice to his head. A mother rocked a crying baby. An elderly couple coughed in the corner.

  Danielle passed them all, and walked outside. The cool air instantly soothed her. It took three tries, but she finally managed to dial the right number.

  “Hello?” Ray’s voice was raised in inquiry.

  “Ray, it’s Danielle.” She sniffed. “Are you still in the building?”

  “Yeah, I’m in the lounge. Are you OK?”

  She took a deep breath. “Something awful has happened.”

  ****

  “Ah, so you have decided to join me?”

  Brian opened his eyes. He lay against a cement floor in what appeared to be a damp basement. The beast hovered over him. Brian suffered from the beast’s hot, foul breath on his face. “You?” Brian sneered. “I thought I was rid of you.”

  The demon hissed. “On the contrary, it appears you may be with us for a very long time.”

  Brian tried to sit up, but his abdomen throbbed. He looked down and saw blood.

  The beast laughed.

  “I’m bleeding.”

  “Yes.” The creature sneered. “You shot yourself.”

  “You mean Jake shot me.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you?”

  Brian looked away.

  “You brainless being. You’re Jake. Jake is you.”

  “What?” Brian glared at the hideous beast. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?”

  “Of course, it’s absurd. You are insinuating that I have Dissociative Identity Disorder, or that maybe I’m schizophrenic.”

  “Or that you’re possessed.”

  “I’m nothing.”

  “When you pulled the trigger, whom did you aim at?”

  Brian closed his eyes and tried to recall the scene. His eyes shot open. “I shot Dr. Raven.”

  “Yes,” hissed the beast. “But… “

  “But then, why am I shot?”

  “Precisely the question isn’t it, Doc?”

  ****

  Ray took a deep breath before pushing send on his cell phone.

  “Hello?” Rhonda answered on the first ring.

  “Rhonda? It’s Ray.”

  “Oh, thank goodness, Ray. I’ve been worried sick about Brian. He was supposed to be a few—”

  “Rhonda, I need you to listen to me.”

  “OK.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “Brian’s been shot.”

  For moment, the line seemed dead. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “He’s in surgery right now, and they need you to fill out some paperwork.”

  “No!” Her muffled cries were followed by a thump.

  “Rhonda? Rhonda!”

  “I’ll be there!” The phone connection died.

  Ray stared at the screen for a second. Never had he felt so hopeless. “Lord, please help my friend.” He grabbed his jacket, stuffed his phone in his back pocket, and ran out of the office. He didn’t wait for the elevator. He bounded down the stairs taking three or more at a time. At the bottom step, his face flooded with tears. He took in a deep breath, wiped his face on his sleeve and slammed down the door handle. He crossed to the front desk, and waited for the nurse to look up.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He flashed his hospital badge. “One of our employees was brought in here a few hours ago. I need to talk with his doctor.”

  “Are you a doctor here?”

  “Yes. I work on the seventh floor.”

  That did it. The nurse smiled. “You’re management, then?”

  Ray nodded.

  “What’s the employee’s name?”

  “Dr. Brian Manifold.”

  The nurse clicked a few keys on her computer and nodded. “Yes, he was brought in with a gunshot wound to his abdomen.”

&nbs
p; “Do they know who shot him?”

  “Apparently, it was self-inflicted.”

  Ray felt the color drain from his face.

  “A blonde woman and a security guard checked him in.”

  Danielle. “Did they leave?”

  “The security guard left right away, and the woman is over there.” She pointed to Danielle leaning against a drinking fountain, makeup smeared, nose red. She met his gaze.

  He held up a finger indicating he’d be right there. “May I speak to his doctor?”

  “I’ll check.” The nurse exited a glass door behind her and disappeared.

  He crossed to Danielle. “Hi,” he said softly.

  She fell into his arms and sobbed. “When I saw him…” She trailed off.

  “I understand. It’s too much for anyone to see.”

  She pulled back and looked at him. “Will he be OK?”

  Ray lightly wiped a tear from her cheek. “I hope so.”

  The desk nurse returned.

  “Give me a second,” he told Danielle, withdrawing from her arms.

  “Certainly,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Jensen,” the nurse said, “but he’s unable see you right now. He’s in surgery with your friend. But if you’d like to wait, he’s agreed to see you when he’s done.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ray turned back to Danielle, and escorted her to the waiting room, his legs numb. What had the nurse said? Self-inflicted? Shot in the stomach? The words rang in his head like a clanging cymbal.

  24

  Ray sat in the far back corner with Danielle. The white tiled room was strewn with wounded people.

  Rhonda shot through the entrance double glass doors, gaze frantic. “I received a call that my husband was brought here.”

  Ray stood and crossed to her.

  “Your husband’s name?”

  “Dr. Brian Manifold.”

  The woman looked at her screen, punched a few keys, and said, “Yes, he’s in surgery right now. You can wait in the lobby.”

  “Wait! I don’t know what’s happened! I need someone to tell me something. “

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. Unfortunately, I’m not authorized to give you any more information, but I’ll let the doctors know you’re here.”

  “Rhonda.”

  Tears and mascara lined her face. She reached out and fell into his arms.

  He patted her back, not really sure how to console her. After she relaxed some, he pulled back. “You know, I’m here for you.”

  “They haven’t told me a thing. Do you know what happened?”

  He guided her to a nearby chair.

  “I need to know more. I need to know if he’s going to live. Can you please find something out?”

  He knelt at her feet, and took her hand.

  “Is he dead?” Her eyes seemed to search his.

  “Rhonda…“ Ray cleared his throat. “He shot himself in the stomach.”

  Rhonda pulled back. “Shot himself?”

  “Yes. Danielle found him.”

  Rhonda glanced at the gorgeous blonde, and then back to Ray. “But everything was going to be OK.”

  He cupped his hand around hers. This conversation broke his heart. He wanted to believe it. That his friend would be just fine. He spoke more for himself than her. “He’s in critical condition, but I believe he’ll be OK.”

  Rhonda shook her head; new tears grazed her cheek. “I just don’t understand. Please tell me how my husband could shoot himself.”

  “Have you ever heard of schizophrenia?” Ray asked.

  “From movies, I guess.” She shrugged. “I don’t exactly have a psychology degree.”

  “Brian really took the loss of your child pretty bad. Worse than I think most of us assumed. We knew for a while that he was dealing with depression, and possibly hallucinations, but what he concocted was far beyond what the medical profession has seen in years.” Ray sighed. “Since the accident, Brian has actually been living in a world filled with people who don’t exist.”

  “You’re not making sense. I don’t understand what you’re saying. How’s that possible?”

  “Some people have a genetic condition that predisposes them to the onset of schizophrenia or possibly DID. We believe that Brian may have one or the other.”

  “Did? What’s that?”

  “No, D-I-D. Dissociative Identity Disorder—once known as Multiple Personality Disorder.”

  Rhonda shook her head. “Before the accident, he was fine.”

  Danielle laid her hand on his shoulder.

  Ray nodded, silently thanking her for the comfort, and stared back at his broken friend. “Usually psychosis of this nature is set off by life stressors or fear caused by a traumatic experience. I believe that your miscarriage and the fear about his behavior were the key. The guilt of the accident was his passport to slip out of this world and into his own reality.”

  “What reality?”

  “There may be more personalities that we don’t know about, but from what we can tell, he developed a relationship with your daughter, a patient named Jake, and a psychologist. It was this psychologist personality, Dr. Raven, who allowed him to get back to our reality.”

  “You’re telling me,” she said, in a sarcastic tone, “that my husband had a relationship with my dead child and it was an imaginary friend that brought him back to reality?”

  “I know this is hard to understand.”

  “This is beyond bizarre.” Rhonda covered her face with her hands.

  “Maybe we should give her some time,” Danielle whispered.

  Ray nodded and stood.

  “Why did Brian try to kill himself?” Rhonda asked.

  “I guess in some desperate attempt to be alone.”

  “What?” Rhonda leapt to her feet. “But he shot himself!”

  “You can’t think about this the same way you think about a childhood make-believe friend. When you’re a kid, the friend is invisible and over there.” Ray motioned a few feet in front of him. “But when you’re a paranoid schizophrenic or have DID,” Ray pointed to his temple, “the person is in here.”

  “So he believed he was all of those people?” Rhonda asked.

  “Well, yes and no. That’s what’s so weird about this case. With schizophrenia, one hallucinates. Hears voices, imagines things, but with Dissociative Identity Disorder, one actually believes he is those people. According to the text books, a person can’t really have both problems, and yet Brian seems to be displaying signs of both.”

  “But he just stared into space. I never saw him talk to himself.”

  “He may have appeared catatonic to you, but for him, he was living out life through those relationships.” Ray touched her hand. How could he help her? Years as a professional taught him he couldn’t. The most he could do was be here. Listen and love. “I’m sorry, Rhonda.”

  Rhonda sat back down and wiped her eyes. “Is he awake? Is that how you know all this?”

  Ray looked down at his hands.

  “Ray?”

  He bit his lip, not meeting her eyes.

  “Ray, answer me.”

  “No.” He swallowed, unable to look at her. This would not make her happy. “I have been putting the pieces together for a while. It was my job to evaluate him, to determine if he was still fit to counsel. He started having panic attacks, outbursts in his office, often when he was alone. He drank more than usual and was unusually paranoid that people were out to get him.”

  “Well, weren’t they?”

  Ray met her gaze. “People were worried, and obviously for a good reason. No one wanted him to get hurt. They wanted him to seek help.” Ray glanced at Danielle, who offered a supportive smile. He sighed. “I told him this morning that the board revoked his license.”

  “What?” Rhonda yelled. “You knew all along and you didn’t help him? You didn’t even tell me. I’m his wife! I deserved to know. How dare you call yourself my friend?”

  “Rhonda, please.
I was not at liberty to talk about his case.”

  “Bull!” she spat.

  “You know how it is. We’re under strict rules of confidentiality. In a sense, Brian was my patient. I could have been fired.”

  “What’s your job to my husband’s life?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  Rhonda held Ray’s gaze. “I lost my baby, my marriage is sour, and now my husband might die. Tell me, Ray, what in this whole situation has been remotely fair?”

  Ray looked away, but not in time to hide his tears. “I’m sorry, Rhonda. I failed you.”

  ****

  “Are you OK?” Danielle handed Ray a cup of coffee.

  “Thank you.” He took the cup and inhaled the steam. “I will be.”

  She had never been in this kind of tragedy before. Knowing what to do or how to comfort him was a mystery. She was afraid she might say the wrong thing. She cared about this man, more than he knew, and she didn’t want to hurt him. She had no idea what to do.

  Talk to him. Listen to his words.

  A familiar peace, God’s love, settled in her heart.

  “I can still remember when Brian and I became true friends. We were at this all-night study session. Everyone had downed at least two pots of coffee when Brian decided we should go buy triple espressos at the campus coffee shop. I was the only one willing to take the break and go.” Ray’s eyes glistened as he talked. “We went, but they were just closing up.”

  Danielle turned to face him.

  “This cute Hispanic girl happened to walk back through the shop to get something. Brian started pounding on the window.” Ray’s voice wavered. He ran a hand over his face and sniffed. “He actually had enough charm not only to get the girl to open up and turn the bar back on, but he talked her into staying up with us the rest of the night. The three of us were the best of friends after that.”

  Her heart went out to this torn man. “Where is the girl now?” Danielle asked.

  Ray offered a slight grin. “Amy is kind of my sister-in-law.”

  Sister-in-law? Danielle’s heart stopped. “I thought you weren’t married and an only child.”