“What about it?”
“You surely must recall your first.”
“Do you, Doctor Bexley? Do you remember your first?”
“Stop trifling with me please, and I’ll thank you to desist with the innuendo. I will say it again: It seems to me that if you have memories of any of your sessions, at least your first must have stayed with you.”
“It did.”
“Go on.”
“I started working on a Monday. At first Jake just had me feeding the animals and showing them to families looking for a pet. On Thursday, he said, ‘Tomorrow might be a little rough for you, Tory. I’m expecting you to assist me with this week’s session. Are you up for it?’ One thing my mother always used to say about me is true: Tell me you don’t think I can do something and I will do it just to prove you wrong. So when Jake started questioning me about whether or not I’d be able to handle a euthanizing session, I made up my mind right then and there that I’d do it no matter what.”
“Did you do anything special to prepare yourself?”
“Not really. The night before, I took a couple of hits of pot around seven o’clock. I smoke so infrequently that the day after I get high I still usually feel the effects. Sort of a lingering mellowness.”
“‘A lingering mellowness.’ I have never heard it described that way before.”
“So I went to bed stoned, and by the time I got to work the next morning, I was still a little buzzed.”
“You said that euthanizing sessions usually took place in the afternoon.”
“Yeah … usually around three.”
“On the Friday morning of your first session, were you told when it would happen?”
“Yes. Sometimes I stopped for coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts on the way to work, and I would bring a tray of large blacks into work. We had the fixings so everybody could make their own cup. Four Big Ones was usually enough. This morning, I put the tray down, and instead of pouring some into a mug, I took a whole twenty-ounce cup and went into Jake’s office.”
“Why did you go see him as soon as you arrived at work?”
“I wanted to know if there was anything special that had to be done for the animals on the day they were to be … well, you know.”
“Why did you want the whole cup of coffee?”
“Maybe because I was a little nervous? Maybe because I wanted to counteract the sedation from the pot? I don’t know, I just felt like a whole cup that morning.”
“Okay. So, was Jake in his office?”
“Yes. He was working at his computer. I didn’t knock. I just walked in and sat down.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing. He just finished what he was doing and then looked up at me. He didn’t even say good morning. The first thing out of his mouth was, ‘Where’s my coffee?’”
“What did you say?”
“I said, ‘It’s outside in the tray with the other ones that I paid for and brought in.’”
“And then?”
“He just shrugged and then said, ‘So?’”
“He sensed something was on your mind?”
“Apparently.”
“Go on.”
“I took a sip of my coffee and asked him.”
“Could you be specific, please?”
“I said, ‘Is there anything I need to do for the animals before … this afternoon?’”
“And what did he say?”
“He said, ‘Like what?’”
“Your question was not clear to him.”
“Obviously not. Which I can kind of understand. So then I said, ‘Do I have to give them a sedative, or withhold their food, or … you know … do anything prior to the session?’”
“You felt this was a logical question.”
“Absolutely. After all, people can’t eat before they have surgery, right?”
“But this wasn’t surgery. This was an execution.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And death-row inmates eat a last meal before they are put to death.”
“Well, I guess I didn’t think it through.”
“So what did Jake say?”
“He just looked at me for a minute, and then he shook his head. My expression must have made him think I still wasn’t clear, so then he said, ‘No, nothing needs to be done, Tory.’”
“How did this make you feel?”
“Depressed.”
“Why?”
“It just seemed so fucking final at that point.”
“Did you then get up and leave?”
“Yes, but as I was leaving he said, ‘One more thing, Tory. It’s probably a good idea if you don’t spend too much time with the animals today.’”
“In a way, he was trying to prepare you.”
“I guess.”
“So what did you say in response to his suggestion?”
“Nothing. I just walked out of his office and went to visit the animals.”
“I see.”
“You see what?”
“Why didn’t you take his advice?”
“Because as long as the animals I had been taking care of were still alive, I was going to do what I could for them.”
“Could you tell me about the animals that were in the shelter that week?”
“Do I have to?”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Well, I do mind.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s painful to talk about them.”
“Please try?”
“Oh, all right … there were four dogs and five cats.”
“Go on.”
“The dogs were a Lab, a collie, a cocker spaniel, and a terrier. Two of the cats were black and white … one was a kitten … the other two cats were gray.”
“May I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Did any of you who worked at the shelter ever name the animals?”
“Oh, boy.”
“Tory … are you crying?”
“Could we pick this up later, please?”
“Of course.”
16
Dr. Baraku Bexley
Medical Log: Tory Troy
While reviewing the documents provided to me by Tory Troy’s Creative Writing teacher, Mr. Gabriel Mundàne, I came upon a poem titled “A Crow on the Lawn of the House I Grew Up In.” The poem is reprinted below. I believe the dark tone and the illness/suicide subtext of the poem may hold meaning. The poem is not dated and, at the time of this log entry, I have not yet asked Ms. Troy when she wrote it.
A Crow on the Lawn
of the House I Grew Up In
by Victoria Troy
All the houses
on all the streets
all are burning.
There are volcanoes
in the shopping centers.
Comets crash on
schools. Fences
spit sparks. Trees
stab passersby with
poisoned branches.
All the waters are black.
A crow on the lawn
of the house I grew up in.
Diagnosis.
17
Tory Troy
Defense Attorney Carolyn Payne
“Hi, Tory. How are you? You look good.”
“Are you kidding?”
“We lawyers usually say that to all our incarcerated clients.”
“How do I really look?”
“Incarcerated.”
“Bingo.”
“I’ve been kept abreast of your meetings with Dr. Bexley, although for now all I’m actually told are the time and dates of your interviews. How are those going?”
“What do you want to hear?”
“The truth?”
“They’re not bad, but it upsets me when he starts probing into things I don’t want to talk about.”
“Like what?”
“Like things I don’t want to talk about.”
“Tory—”
“Ca
rolyn, please. It’s bad enough having to be psychoanalyzed by Bexley. Please don’t make me relive it with you.”
“Tory, I need to know what’s happening in order to prepare for either your trial or an appeal to set aside your institutionalization.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Can you get a sense of how Dr. Bexley is thinking?”
“Yeah. I think he thinks I’m sane.”
“Really?”
“Yep. In fact, if I was a betting woman, I’d give odds he’s going to find me competent to stand trial.”
“I see.”
“So whatever it is you need to do if that happens, you should probably get started.”
“How confident are you that you are correct?”
“Very.”
“Okay. Let me start thinking about where we go next if he comes back with a report of competence. We’ll have time to prepare for a trial, but I think I should probably start lining up witnesses.”
“They’re going to find me guilty, you know.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because I killed them, and Bex is going to say I’m sane, and no jury is going to let me walk. Would you, if you were on the jury?”
“Let’s not think that far ahead just yet, Tory.”
“Come on, Carolyn. Let’s be real about this. I’m looking at a lethal injection in my future.”
“If you are right, does this frighten you?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“I guess I’m just not afraid of death.”
18
Tory Troy
Dr. Baraku Bexley
“How was your meeting with your lawyer, Tory?”
“A barrel of laughs.”
“How are you feeling today?”
“Lousy.”
“Why? Are you sick?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need to see a doctor?”
“You are a doctor.”
“A medical doctor.”
“No.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m a little nauseous. And I’ve got a headache. It’s probably the shit food in this place.”
“Would you like to end today’s session so you can rest?”
“Why? What do you have in store for me today?”
“Actually, we’ve reached the point where I need to administer some psychological tests to you.”
“Some? How many?”
“Six.”
“All at once?”
“No, of course not. We’ll do them one at a time, and we can do as many in a day as you feel up to.”
“Is this how you’re going to be able to tell if I’m crazy?”
“We don’t like to use the word crazy, Tory. I will determine fit or unfit for trial. Some of my colleagues use the Canadian Fitness Interview Test and base everything on the results of that test, but I prefer to use individual psychosocial evaluatory tests. I still may turn to the FIT, but for now I’d like to start with these six.”
“I’m intrigued, Dr. B. I think I’d like to try taking one and see how it goes. If it’s too draining and makes me feel worse, we’ll reschedule. That cool?”
“Uh, yes. That is cool.”
“You are too hip, Doc. Okay, then. What’s the first?”
“I really should not tell you the titles of the tests, but with your intelligence and perceptive talents, the questions will make the topic immediately clear to you, so I am going to throw caution to the wind and reveal the subjects before we begin.”
“Goody. What’s the first?”
“‘Could You Become Assaultive?’”
“Jesus. You’re jumping right to the good stuff, eh?”
“Shall we begin?”
“I suppose.”
“I am going to make ten declarative statements that I want you to respond to with ‘rarely,’ ‘sometimes,’ or ‘often.’ Do you understand?”
“Yes. Fire away.”
“Would you like some water, or do you need to use the bathroom before we begin?”
“Nope. I’m all yours.”
“All right, then. Let’s get started. Number one. ‘I fall into moods of irritability for no apparent reason.’”
“Rarely.”
“Number two. ‘I don’t work hard enough to improve myself.’”
“Sometimes.”
“Number three. ‘If someone yells at me, I yell right back.’”
“Often.”
“Number four. ‘I drink frequently and often get drunk.’”
“Rarely.”
“Number five. ‘I do things on impulse.’”
“Often. No, wait. I want to change that to ‘Sometimes.’”
“All right. Number six. ‘When others cross me, I don’t forgive and forget easily.’”
“Can you give me a minute?”
“Take all the time you need.”
“You want to know if I’m forgiving. Like if someone screws me, right?”
“I’m not allowed to discuss the questions, Tory. Would you like me to repeat the statement?”
“Yes.”
“Number six. ‘When others cross me, I don’t forgive and forget easily.’”
“‘I don’t forgive and forget …’ The question is a negative. So if I say ‘sometimes,’ I’m saying I sometimes do not forgive … or I rarely do not forgive … Takes on a whole new meaning when you parse it, Doc.”
“Yes, I suppose it does.”
“I’m going to say ‘rarely.’ I’m a pretty forgiving person, so I rarely do not forgive and forget.”
“Okay. Number seven. ‘When I’m angry, I slam or break things.’”
“Rarely.”
“Number eight. ‘I engage in physical activity or use some other outlet to “let off steam.” ’ ”
“Sometimes. When I’m stressed I’ll sometimes walk the treadmill. Or masturbate.”
“Number nine. ‘If someone annoys me, I’m quick to tell them off.’”
“Often.”
“And the final statement. Number ten. ‘After an outburst I regret having lost my temper.’”
“Often.”
“There. That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?”
“How’d I do?”
“Now, Tory—”
“Oh, come on, Doc. What’s the harm?”
“I’ll tell you what. Let’s complete the tests and then I’ll give you a general summation of how you scored. Fair?”
“Fair. Now, can we call it quits for today? My head really hurts now.”
“Of course. Would you like to see the nurse?”
“I suppose. Although all she’ll give me is two Tylenol. What I wouldn’t give for some of those Vicodin I’ve got stashed away.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Tory.”
“Adios, Doc.”
19
Dr. Baraku Bexley
Medical Log: Tory Troy
I administered the psychological test “Could You Become Assaultive?” to Tory Troy today and she scored a 19, which is an utterly average result. The protocols state that a client with a 19 shows an average amount of control when it comes to inhibiting angry feelings. She manifests a relatively high level of self-discipline regarding her anger. However, since this is the first test in a series of six, I will refrain from a preliminary evaluation at this time and will provide a more detailed interpretation later in this report.
20
Tory Troy
Dr. Baraku Bexley
“I’d like to continue with our discussion of your coworkers today, please.”
“What about the rest of the tests?”
“We’ll come back to them.”
“Why do I have to talk about the people I worked with?”
“Indulge me, please, Tory. And by the way, how are you feeling today? Better, I hope?”
“Yeah. I threw up last night.”
“And now you feel better?”
“Yes. It must have been some kin
d of virus, because now my headache is gone too.”
“Very good. My notes show that you have already talked about Philip, Marcy, and Teresa. Perhaps you can tell me about Renaldo? What kind of relationship did you have with him?”
“I always got along with Renaldo. He was a really sweet guy. He had only been in this country for a few years. He was saving up money to bring his wife and kids over here.”
“Where was he from?”
“Manacor.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s a small town on Majorca off the coast of Spain. The Balearic Islands.”
“How was his English? Were you able to communicate with him?”
“His English was sometimes better than mine. His family had moved to Majorca when he was in his twenties, so he had gone to public schools in Spain, where English is a required course. And not just two years of it, the way we make kids here take Spanish or French. Before they could graduate they had to be able to speak and write high-school-level English. Shit. Some American high school kids can’t speak and write high-school-level English.”
“What did you two talk about?”
“Not much, really. He told me about his family back home. I told him about my favorite movies and TV shows. He was fascinated by American movies and TV shows.”
“What was his job?”
“He was the janitor. He spent all day mopping and sweeping and emptying pails and cleaning windows. He kept the place sparkling, I must say. He also had to clean the cages, which was probably the dirtiest job of all. But he never complained. Not once. And the cages were always spotless.”
“It sounds like you were fond of Renaldo.”
“I was. You know what he told me once? He told me that he put half of every paycheck in a savings account. Half. He actually lived on half his pay. When you consider his expenses—you know, rent, and utilities, not to mention food—that is an amazing achievement.”
“Apparently he was quite committed to bringing his family over.”
“He sure was. He had it all figured out too. He knew how much it would cost, and he even had a job at a nail salon lined up for his wife.”
“And now none of that will come to be.”
“Is that a question?”
“How does that make you feel?”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Tory—”
“I don’t. I know none of that will happen now. What else do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me what you’re feeling. You know that you were the reason that none of Renaldo’s plans will ever be realized. How does that make you feel?”
Dialogues Page 8