Dark Cognitions

by Kimberlee R. Mendoza

  “I thought they were the same age.”

  Rhonda smiled. “They are. But you wouldn’t know it by their relationship. It’s always been that way. Ray looks out for Brian. For most of their friendship, Brian valued it. He wouldn’t do anything without calling Ray first. Then things changed.”

  “The accident?”

  “Yeah. For some reason, Brian didn’t want to hear from Ray anymore. Cut him totally out of his life. But then, he did the same to me.” Rhonda licked some frosting from her fork and sighed.

  A nagging question wouldn’t let go, she had to ask. “Be honest with me.”

  “About what?”

  “Can Ray be intimate with a woman, or am I wasting my time.”

  Rhonda raised an eyebrow. “Intimate?”

  Danielle blew through her lips. “Not physically, of course. I mean emotionally. Can he let go of Brian a little and love a woman?”

  “Love you?”

  Adrenaline shot through her heart to her stomach. “I suppose,” Danielle said. “Yeah.”

  The answer didn’t come quickly. Rhonda stared at her plate, way longer than Danielle could stand. Her lack of an answer was scary.

  Danielle started to worry.

  “I think if you’re the right woman, Ray will take that chance. He’s just a bit shy when it comes to girls. You just have to be patient.”

  Patient? Danielle shoved another bite of cake in her mouth, not sure she was happy with that answer. God, if Ray is the right one, please make it sooner, rather than later.

  ****

  “Good morning, Brian.”

  Brian squinted. A bald man in a white doctor’s jacket and a big smile came into focus.

  “I’m Dr. James Coulson. I will be your therapist while you’re here with us at Brighton Hospital. Are you hungry?”

  Brian sat up and nodded.

  “Great, it’s lunch time. Come with me.”

  “Lunch time?”

  “I’m afraid you overslept the breakfast hour. But you’re just in time for lunch.” Brian followed him to a cafeteria line.

  James handed him a red plastic tray and said, “Don’t get used to sleeping in around here though. From now on, the orderlies will be in to fetch you first thing in the morning. It’s their job to make sure everyone consumes three meals a day. It’s the only way we can make sure those with eating disorders, and those trying to starve themselves, eat.”

  A rather large Asian woman scooped a brown, soupy mixture onto Brian’s plate, along with soggy carrots and a rock-like biscuit.

  “You eat here on purpose?” Brian asked, as they passed him his plate.

  “Only on my patient’s first day. After that, I bring a bagged lunch.”

  “Good to know they gave me a smart counselor.”

  James smiled and led Brian to a small table by some windows in the corner.

  Brian looked outside. He could make out a few trees through the black bars.

  “I count myself lucky that Ray recommended that the board appoint me to be your counselor. It’s not every day that one of our own comes to join us. It makes research all the more interesting. You can explain your situation better than any other client. I’m excited to observe your progress.”

  Brian toyed with the brown goop on his plate. “I hope you realize, Doctor, that I’m not just some rat in your lab.”

  The doctor stopped mid-bite. “Of course not. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you’re an interesting case, and I look forward to helping you. Believe it or not, no one else bartered to help you. After all, you’re intelligent, and know the tricks of the trade. Though it may be intriguing, it will also be more difficult.”

  “I’m here to get well.”

  “And that’s our goal.”

  ****

  Brian reclined on a leather sofa in Dr. Coulson’s office. The thought was unnerving. He belonged on the other side of the couch, not here.

  James sat across from him and started to count backwards in a soothing pitch.

  “Brian, I want you to listen to my voice. Eight. As I count, I want you to sense your body. Seven. How heavy it seems. Six. Now relax each muscle. Five. Feel them sinking into the couch. Four. Slowly, begin to relax. Three. You should feel nothing. Two. One.”

  Brian was out.

  “So, you’ve returned?”

  Brian knew that voice. He looked around. Where am I? It appeared to be an alley of some kind. He’d been here before. He glanced ahead to a streetlight. The tawny moon cast an eerie glow and Brian could see his surroundings.

  To his right were over a dozen overflowing garbage cans and empty boxes. To his left was a metal staircase that led to a four-story apartment window above. The beast lingered ahead of him, just beyond an old fashion lamppost.

  Brian set out in the direction of the light.

  “Did you miss me?”

  “No!” Brian screamed and burst into a run.

  “I think you did. You and I, we’re one.”

  Brian skidded to a stop. “Never!”

  The beast circled the light, and the bulb popped. Brian stumbled in the sudden darkness and plummeted to his knees.

  “Oh, Brian. You can never be free. This is such a waste of time.”

  “What is?” Using the post, Brian pulled himself up. “What’s a waste of time? Fighting for my life? I’m not drinking anymore. I’ve accepted what happened. Why are you still here?”

  The beast leaned in to him.

  Brian winced at the fowl stench of the creature’s breath. “Do you not know where you are?”

  Brian skimmed his surroundings in the moonlit sky. “San Diego, the Gaslamp Quarter, I think.”

  The beast wrapped his claw around Brian’s throat and squeezed.

  Brian gasped for air.

  It squeezed until Brian thought his eyes would rupture.

  Out of the blue, the creature let go.

  Brian grasped at his throat and heaved air. “Why did you do that?” Brian rasped.

  “You inconsequential fool. How much longer do I have to put up with you? You never left the good doctor’s couch. They seek your illness—a disorder that they’ll write down, but will never find. You see, Brian, you can’t be cured. You’re mine.”

  ****

  It felt like paperweights sat on each of Brian’s eyelids. He blinked, forcing them open. When he tried to lift his arm, it didn’t budge. Not again. He turned his neck to his side. His arms were bound to the bed. He shook his arms in a vain effort to free himself. Sweat poured down his forehead and ran into his eyes. He tried to wipe it with his shoulder but couldn’t reach it. He panicked. His heart raced and his chest heaved. He screamed.

  Two new orderlies rushed into the room.

  Nate followed.

  “Be quiet, Brian,” ordered Nate. “Or we’ll have to drug you again.”

  “Please,” Brian pleaded. “Don’t you get it? I’m claustrophobic. Please untie me.”

  “I’m sorry, but we have our orders.”

  “Who gave them?” Brian asked.

  “Dr. Coulson.”

  “Then please get him. I can’t stay like this.” Brian wheezed. In his mind, the room rotated. He blinked rapidly to stay focused. “Please, I’ll go insane.”

  Nate snorted. “You’ll go insane? Good one.” He shook his head and turned to the smaller orderly. “Get Dr. Coulson. Tell him, Brian Manifold is awake.”

  “Yes, sir.” The man walked out the door, and shut it.

  So, Nate was in charge of the orderlies. Not that it mattered. Brian worked to slow his breathing. In and out. Open. Close. He continued to blink his eyelids, compelling them to clear.

  James entered abruptly. “How is he?”

  “I think he’s having an anxiety attack,” Nate answered.

  James crossed to Brian.

  Brian struggled to look him in the eye.

  “Try to look at me,” Dr. Coulson said in a soothing voice. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  He f
elt crossed-eyed. To him, it looked like three, but since the middle one looked blurry, Brian said, “Two.”

  “Good.” James pulled out a skinny silver flashlight and shined it in both of his eyes.

  He squinted.

  “OK, I need you to breath slower,” James said. “If you want me to take the restraints off, you’ll have to prove to me that you won’t be harmful to me or yourself.”

  Brian nodded. In. Out. He listened to the sound of his own breath.

  “You’re not dying. Your heart is racing because of the adrenaline in your body. You need to relax. Think of a babbling brook. Do you see it, doctor?”

  Brian closed his eyes.

  “Do you see the stream trickling over stones, the lapping sound of water as it rolls by?”

  His muscles relaxed.

  “The wind blows, soft and warm.”

  A stream from his childhood appeared in his mind’s eye. Smooth pebbles lined the bottom, the water so clear he could see a rainbow of stones.

  “Put your hand in the water,” James said.

  Brian visualized his hand touching the water. It felt cool to the touch. It soothed his skin like silk. The soft sound of the waves lapping against the shore soothed his mind. It was working. Brian opened his eyes.

  James stood over him with a big grin plastered on his face. “Now, how do you feel?”

  “Better,” Brian said.

  “Good. Let’s get those straps off you so you can join me for dinner.”

  The two orderlies from before untied his straps and helped him sit up. “Now, Brian, these two will stay with us through our meal. If at any moment they feel I’m threatened, they will put you back in these bonds, do you understand?”

  He nodded. Whatever I did, it must have been bad. He followed the doctor to the cafeteria, but this time, as promised, James produced a brown paper bag. “I’ll wait for you over there. Go ahead, get in line and get yourself some food.”

  Brian walked behind the last person and acquired a tray. The men around him emerged like zombies. The dead coming to eat, thought Brian. Maybe there’s something in the food.

  The cafeteria worker slapped watery potatoes, parched nuggets, and sodden beans onto his plate.

  His theory looked more plausible. He grabbed his tray and weaved around the tables, through the dining room, toward James. Brian really didn’t feel like eating. And it wasn’t even the food; it was the pain in the pit of his stomach. What did he do?

  He didn’t even remember entering room 266. The last thing he remembered was going to see James earlier in the morning. Brian sat across from his counselor and took a drink of milk. “Can I ask you something?”

  “I usually ask the questions, but in this situation I’ll allow it.” James smiled. Apparently, he must be joking. A little shrink wit.

  Unfortunately, Brian had somehow lost his sense of humor. “So, what did I do that made you restrain me?”

  James bit into what looked like an egg salad sandwich on wheat bread, and then spoke with a mouth full. “Well, I’m not sure how to answer that.”

  “You strapped me down. I must have done something awful.”

  The doctor placed his sandwich on a plastic baggie and took a drink of his soda, before answering. “I don’t know that you did anything.”

  Brian stared at James, considering what he just heard. Scared to ask, but scared not to. “So, then, my personalities manifested?”

  James gazed out the window and sighed. “I wish I knew. The behavior you implemented today was like none I’ve ever seen before. And I’ve seen a lot in the last three decades, I assure you.” He looked back at Brian. “It was almost like someone or something controlled you. As if some sort of beast was trying to get out of you.”

  Brian cringed.

  “What is it?”

  Sharp pains stabbed Brian in the abdomen. He looked down at his food and his stomach turned. He tried to put his hand to his mouth, but wasn’t fast enough. His stomach wretched and he vomited on his tray.

  James jumped back and looked to the orderlies.

  They ran over and grabbed Brian.

  Brian jerked his arms and legs to push them off.

  The orderlies managed to grab him and push him to the floor.

  Brian turned his face on the cold tile to face James. “I can help you. Please, don’t lock me up again.”

  30

  For the fourth time that week, Danielle stopped by Rhonda’s house with a box of doughnuts.

  “Good morning, Danielle,” Rhonda said as she let her in, and then pointed to a slightly plump African-American woman with fire-red hair. “This is my neighbor Melody Brown.”

  “Hello,” Danielle said, smiling.

  “Hi,” Melody grinned.

  Rhonda closed the door. “I need to change. Why don’t the two you get acquainted, and I’ll be right back.”

  Danielle waited until Rhonda was out of earshot, before asking, “How’s she doing?”

  “Not that great, from what I can tell.” Melody gave some extent of a smile, and then picked at a maple bar.

  “Has she talked to the hospital at all?”

  Rhonda entered. “Let’s change the subject, OK? I invited you all over here to get my mind off things.”

  “OK.” Danielle reached for a glazed twist and unraveled it. “What shall we talk about?”

  “You and Ray,” Melody said.

  Danielle almost choked on the bite in her mouth. “I’m swarry?” she stuttered, her tongue tangled in the food.

  “Come on, juicy details. Inquiring minds want to know.” Melody popped a doughnut hole in her mouth and smiled.

  “Know what?” Danielle glanced at Rhonda. How did this perfect stranger know about her and Ray? She set her doughnut down and attempted to wipe the sticky frosting from her hands.

  Rhonda laughed. “You’ll have to excuse my friend, Danielle. Melody has an uncanny way of knowing everybody’s business.”

  “I’ve been pulling for Ray for years,” Melody said, crossing her arms. “I may be an old married woman, but I know when he likes someone.”

  “When have you seen him?”

  “I’m around.”

  Danielle raised an eyebrow. Great, a nosy neighbor. Well, it didn’t matter. The timing wasn’t right for her and Ray.

  “I thought maybe things might have changed,” Rhonda said.

  “Honestly, I haven’t seen him since the last time you and I talked. We’re waiting.”

  “Waiting?” Melody dipped her eyebrows in a confused expression. “I’m sorry. Waiting for what, exactly? The big earthquake? The rapture? World peace?”

  Danielle sipped her coffee. Waiting for what exactly? The same question ran through her mind daily. Hour by hour. Minute by minute. “I suppose, for Rhonda’s hubby to get well.”

  Melody stared at her a moment, eyes wide. “You’re kidding, right?”

  I wish I was. Danielle shook her head. “His choice, not mine.”

  “So, let me get this straight.” Melody licked her pink glossed lips. “My good friend, Ray, has put you on hold until Rhonda’s husband is better?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Ha!” Melody dropped her doughnut and reached for her purse. She opened the pocket on the side and withdrew a cell phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting ready to kick some sense into my pal.”

  “No!” Danielle practically leapt at Melody, knocking the cell out of her hand. The silver phone slid across the counter, stopping at the edge of Danielle’s coffee. “Rhonda, do something.”

  “You can’t call him,” Rhonda said.

  “Why not?” Melody reached for her phone again. “He’s being stupid.”

  Danielle covered Melody’s hand. “Please. I don’t want him to hate me. Things have been strained, as it is. If he isn’t ready to be more than friends with me, then I’ll have to deal with that.”

  “Hmm…” Melody stared Danielle in the eye, obviously not convinced.
>
  “Please.” Danielle forced a smile.

  Rhonda nodded. “She’s right, Mel.”

  Melody bit the side of her bottom lip and sighed. “Fine. But if he is still being a jerk a few weeks from now, I’m going let him have it.”

  Danielle laughed nervously. “Deal.”

  ****

  Brian sat back on the couch, once again feeling very uneasy about his position. He, a therapist, was now the patient. At least with Dr. Raven, though imaginary, he felt in control. At this point, Brian sat utterly at the mercy of another mind.

  James took a seat across from him and crossed his arms. “I’m not going to attempt to hypnotize you again. I’m intrigued by what you have to say in your defense. I think there may be more to your case than the length of my clinical knowledge.” He reached for his coffee and continued, “When you lost your lunch, so to speak, something set you off. What was it?”

  “Apparently, my colleague knew about the multiple personalities I exhibited, but I never told him about my recurring dreams.”

  The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Your dreams?”

  “Yes, I have a recurring visitor. I’m usually not in the same place more than once.” Brian stopped and rolled his eyes. “Well, once I was, but usually I’m not.”

  James nodded.

  “You said his name at lunch and that is when I lost it.”

  “I did?”

  “Yes, I call him the beast.” Brian trembled, his eyes rolled back.

  James came out of his chair. “Are you OK?”

  He inhaled deeply, trying to get his bearings. “I think so, but I think there is something very real about my dreams. They haunt me, even when I’m awake. They feel more like a hallucination than Lara, Jake, or Raven did, but somehow more real, too.” He paused. “Then again, I wonder if they’re all connected in some strange way.”

  “Is there any kind of message given by this beast in your dreams?”

  “He constantly tells me that I’m his.”

  “His? The beast’s?”

  Brian shuddered. “Yes.”

  James paced for about ten minutes, scratched his head one minute and his chin the next.