by Zane
marcella
Working with Jonquinette Pierce had turned out to be much more than I had bargained for. Just like every professional I welcomed challenges in my career, but this one had taken on a personal edge. I had only one similar experience in my entire career. When I was fresh out of medical school, I interned at a psychiatric hospital in New York State under the guidance of Dr. Michael Driggs. He was one of the most respected psychiatrists in the country and had recently succumbed to colon cancer.
Dr. Driggs had a patient named Constance who suffered from Multiple Personality Disorder. I sat in on his therapy sessions with her and it was nothing short of amazing. While Constance had already pretty much figured out that she had at least three other personalities, it turned out that she had at least forty. Day after day, month after month, we met them one at a time. Dr. Driggs introduced me to the technique of integration, where he basically had lengthy discussions with each personality to see what their individual issues—or grievances, so to speak—were and how they could be solved. Constance had been the victim of severe neglect and physical abuse as a child. Because of that, she developed various personalities to deal with situations that she could not deal with. There was Bernie, who was an older gentleman. Bernie emerged when Constance felt threatened. He spoke in a heavy tone and his body language was intimidating. Rhonda was the little child who emerged when Constance was feeling lonely and abandoned, which she had been by her parents at the age of four. She ended up in foster homes and unfortunately, each one of the homes harbored a form of evil. Her first set of foster parents used to beat Constance with a belt and lock her in the cellar for days on end. The second set used to make her eat dog food while they dined on fine cuisine, courtesy of state funding. She and the other six foster children in the home eventually ran away together, seeking help from the local police, and the state had no choice but to find new homes for all of them and press charges against the couple who had made them suffer.
The list of traumas in Constance’s life went on and on until she simply could not function in society. She checked herself into the hospital, pleading desperately for help and some form of supervision. She did not trust herself or what she might be driven to do next.
As I sat in my office waiting for Jonquinette and her parents to arrive for their first joint therapy session, I couldn’t imagine what had triggered her MPD and how Jude had been created. Other than the fact that she had been bullied as a child, which didn’t sit quite well with me, there was no other obvious reasoning behind the events that had transpired.
Jude herself didn’t realize that she was crying out for help by sleeping with various men. She assumed that promiscuity was a display of power but nothing was further from the truth. Self-degradation is no better than someone else doing the degrading. I had a general idea of how I planned to proceed with Jonquinette’s healing process, but first I wanted to meet her parents and see how they interacted with her.
Jonquinette showed up first. I was glad that she came in separately because it gave us an opportunity to chat alone.
After she came into my inner office and sat down, I asked her, “So how are things?”
“I can’t tell you how much better I feel,” she said.
“Really? Why is that?”
She leaned up and whispered, “Mason and I did it. We made love.”
She giggled with delight and I faked a smile. I wasn’t so sure getting sexually involved with Mason Copeland at that point in time was such a great idea. It might just serve to complicate matters.
“Jonquinette, if you are happy, I am happy for you.”
“Thanks!” She leaned back in the chair. “Oh, guess who I just ran into in the parking lot.”
That was a no-brainer since she’d just left my office. “Zoe?”
“Yes. She’s so sweet. She even gave me her card in case I want to talk.”
“That’s great. Zoe is a very compassionate woman and you may need to hear some of the things she has to say.”
I meant every word of that previous statement. In many ways, Zoe and Jonquinette were identical and in many others they were not. Zoe had a sexual addiction while Jonquinette, or Jude rather, used sex to make a statement.
Jonquinette glanced at my wall clock. “Humph, I wonder why my parents are late.”
No sooner had she said that when a knock came at the door. A stunning-looking couple entered and my first thought was that they seemed way too happy for two people who had just found out that the only child they shared together was ill.
Jonquinette jumped up and made the introductions. “Dr. Spencer, these are my parents, Henry and Meredith Pierce.”
I shook both of their hands. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
Henry replied, “Same here. I just wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Please have a seat,” I said, directing them to my leather couch. Jonquinette sat down on the chaise and I sat in an armchair.
Meredith said, “Sorry we’re late. Henry just got back from dropping Flower back off in North Carolina.”
“Flower was here?” Jonquinette asked, obviously stunned.
Meredith laughed uncomfortably. “Don’t be silly, Precious. Of course, Flower was here. You spent the day with her.”
Jonquinette’s mouth fell open and the rest of us came to the same conclusion simultaneously.
Henry said, “Oh shit! You mean my baby girl spent the afternoon with that wench!”
No one responded and Jonquinette decided to lie down on the chaise instead of just sitting there.
Meredith said, “Jonquinette, does that mean that you don’t know about our news?”
“What news?” Jonquinette asked.
Henry cleared his throat. “The news about your momma getting back together with me.”
I studied Jonquinette’s reaction. She clamped her eyes shut and sighed. “No, I didn’t have a clue.”
Meredith folded her hands on her lap but I could still see them trembling. She glimpsed at me uneasily. “I guess we should talk about that later. We’re here for Jonquinette.”
I waited for Jonquinette to make any comments about the revelation. When she remained silent, I moved on. “As you know, Jonquinette is suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder, otherwise known as MPD. It is also commonly referred to as Dissociative Identity Disorder. Ideas about MPD date back to the 1800s. This is not a new concept.”
Meredith asked, “So what exactly is it and how can we stop it?”
“Basically, Jonquinette has at least one alter personality who was created to free her from the memories and experiences that were too difficult for her to rationally deal with.”
Henry said, “So are we talking about a mental illness? Is she insane?”
I shook my head. “No, Jonquinette is not insane. That was her assumption at first as well. Jonquinette is perfectly capable of leading a normal life without having to drown herself in pills or being hospitalized. What she has done, in a nutshell, is devise an innovative survival technique.”
Meredith shifted in her seat. “You said at least one alter. Does that mean there are more?”
Even as I made eye contact with her mother, I could sense Jonquinette staring at me. “That is a possibility but as of now, the only one we need to concern ourselves with is Jude. She’s obviously the most powerful and the one causing all the problems.”
Henry shook his head in dismay. “I still can’t believe that wench was left alone with Flower.”
Jonquinette sat back up on the chaise. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but why would you let me baby-sit Flower knowing my situation.”
Jonquinette’s parents glared at each other as I could sense their guilt.
Jonquinette continued, “Until we get this all straightened out, don’t dare do that again. Flower is a sweetheart and if she meets up with Jude while she’s angry, there’s no telling what might happen.” She paused and asked, “You couldn’t tell it wasn’t me?”
&nb
sp; “No, not that time,” Meredith quickly responded. “I won’t lie. Looking back on things, there were times when I should have known something was terribly wrong. Like that time when we had dinner recently and you called me a whore.”
Henry glared at Jonquinette. “You called your momma a whore?”
Jonquinette smacked her lips. “It wasn’t me, Daddy. You’re still missing the point. I’ve never intentionally set out to hurt anyone. I would never call Momma a whore. That’s disrespectful and you didn’t raise me that way.”
“But did we raise Jude that way?” Meredith asked. She covered her face with her hands. “This is so confusing.”
Jonquinette got up off the chaise and walked over to the sofa. Her parents made room for her to sit between them. Each took one of her hands.
“You’re right,” Jonquinette said. “This is confusing.” She looked at me. “Marcella, what’s next?”
“We get to know each other,” I responded. “That’s all I want to do today. You’ve told me a lot but only your parents can fill in the blanks of the times you don’t remember. I have several questions I need to ask.”
Henry gripped Jonquinette’s hand tighter and glanced into my eyes. “Ask away.”
I had blocked out the next three hours for Jonquinette and her parents and we made good use of every minute of it. We talked about her childhood and Jonquinette seemed troubled to the point where I thought she might lose it a few times as she heard firsthand accounts of things she never did.
37
jonquinette
“Are you ready?” Mason asked me when I opened my door. “We have a tight schedule to keep.”
I blushed. “Yes, I’m ready. Just let me grab a lightweight jacket.”
I was kind of worn out from the therapy session but nothing would have stopped me from spending quality time with Mason. In many ways, being with Mason was probably the best therapy of all.
First, we went to the Atlanta History Center. I learned so much about a city where I had lived for several years. Mason said it was a shame for people to live someplace and have the tourists actually visit more of the museums and attractions. We walked the thirty-three acres of gardens, woodlands, and nature trails after visiting the inside exhibits. Watching the children running through the gardens made me suddenly think about actually having a child one day. In a perfect world, it would happen.
We left the Center and headed to the High Museum of Art. There was an exhibit of African-American art, so we had chosen the perfect day to go there. We walked up and down the ramps, taking in all the beautiful paintings and sculptures. There were several by an artist named Quinton Matthews. I had heard that name someplace, maybe in a news story, but couldn’t recall all the details. Either way, his work was magnificent. In fact, I was so moved by the intricate details of his work that I stopped by the gift shop and picked up a reproduction of one of them entitled Forever in Love.
I was getting tired but was determined to hang, so when Mason suggested going to Zoo Atlanta next, I was all for it. We went to the zoo in Grant Park and saw the giant pandas, Lun Lun and Yang Yang, the zoo’s main attraction. Afterward we went to the petting zoo and had a ball playing with the animals. When we left, I just knew we were headed home but . . .
. . . We drove out to Stone Mountain Park and it wasn’t crowded at all for that time of year. I had always wanted to go there but had no one to go with. Ever since I had lost the baby fat back in high school, I had managed to stay in good shape by watching my diet for the most part. Mason was in great shape, as I had found out firsthand when we made love. I still blushed every time I thought about it. We opted against the cable car and the 1.3 mile hike up the side of the mountain was a breeze. We walked through a canyon of boulders that were covered by chewing gum. It was quite a hilarious sight.
We got to the top, more than 1,600 feet above sea level, and took in the spectacular view. We found a cozy spot where no one else was hovering around and made out for about thirty minutes. It was incredible.
It was getting close to sunset so we decided we needed to head back down while the visibility was still good. We did have time to go pedal boating right quick and we ended up having a race with a couple of teenage boys. We beat them big-time and were out of the boat and chilling on the dock by the time they were tied up.
Mason and I went back home just long enough for us to go to our respective apartments, shower and change. Then we headed back out again. I took three vitamins first. The shower almost put me out, I was so exhausted.
We ended up at Cherry, an eclectic sushi bar on Peachtree Street. We had the Tuna Tataki, which was mouthwatering and shared a glass of American wine. We topped it off with a bowl of cherry cobbler, which we also shared. The inside of the place was classy and completely decorated in red. Apparently, it used to be a residence that dated back to the early 1920s.
By that point, I was tired, full, and ready to go back home and cuddle. But Mason wouldn’t hear of it. He said, “You need to make up for lost time, Jonquinette. There are so many things you should’ve already experienced that you haven’t. Let me help you create more memories. Positive memories.”
I blushed and said, “Okay, let’s go for it.”
“Then let’s go relax and have some fun,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me out the restaurant.
Our last stop of the evening turned out to be anything but relaxing. We ended up at The Punchline, where Sir Laughs-a-Lot was performing. He was one of my all-time favorites. I fell in love with his humor way back when he used to star on Bet You I Can Make You Laugh. Mason had called ahead and made reservations so our little wooden table was close to the front. I almost lost my drink when he told a joke about a woman running into her doctor’s office screaming and complaining about having too much hair on her breasts. When the doctor asked her how much the hair was growing, she said from her breasts down to her penis. That was too funny.
We spent a couple of hours laughing so hard that we were brought to tears and then Mason asked, “Ready to go home?”
I eyed him seductively. “Your home or my home?”
He kissed my forehead. “Choose.”
“Well, since you treated me to a bubble bath last time, reciprocity is in order. Want to christen my tub?”
“Absolutely.”
That’s exactly what we did.
38
marcella
It was time. I was determined not to let Jonquinette and her parents leave my office until I exposed the truth. I had grown to care about Jonquinette, as I did all my patients. But there was something fragile about her that I felt the need to shield. It was actually ironic. I was beginning to identify with the reasoning behind Jude’s actions. Jonquinette was the kind of spirit that people would naturally be drawn toward to shelter.
They all arrived at the same time, instead of separately like the previous session.
“Come on in and have a seat,” I said as they walked in single file. I went to the outer office and told my receptionist to put the phones on night and go ahead and leave for the day. There was no point in her staying since I had no more patients scheduled and I was not going to take any calls.
When I came back in, they were all seated: Jonquinette on the chaise and her parents on the couch.
I sat in the armchair and placed a tape recorder in the middle of the coffee table. I hit Record.
“Is this really necessary?” Meredith Pierce asked sarcastically. “Who’s going to end up hearing that?”
“No one will hear it, unless I have your permission. This is simply for me to take notes with and possibly to play back for Jonquinette.” I glanced at Jonquinette and added, “Just in case she misses something.”
Jonquinette nodded. “I understand what you mean. You plan to call Jude out, don’t you?”
I didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes, I do.”
Henry started panicking. “Say what? You’re going to summon that wench? This is crazy!”
“Please, Dad
dy!” Jonquinette exclaimed. “You promised you would help me.”
“And I will, but I’m not so sure about this,” he replied. He eased back on the couch and seemed to calm down some. “All right, if this is the way it has to be, then let’s get it over with.”
I decided to let them know right away that, “There’s a possibility that Jude won’t come out at all. She revealed herself to Mason once that we know of and to me once, but that’s about it. She was obviously around when Flower was visiting but she pretended to be Jonquinette and not herself.”
Henry shook his head. “I still can’t get over that. Something tragic could have happened.”
Jonquinette glared at him and looked irritated. “Well, I hope that never happens again.”
Meredith spoke up. “It won’t happen again, Precious. Your daddy and I have already discussed that at length.”
“Why don’t we all just relax,” I suggested. I turned to Jonquinette. “Jude, I know that you can hear me. You’re always around.”
Meredith sighed loudly. I looked at her and put my index finger to my lips. “Please, remain perfectly quiet for now. We don’t want to irritate her.”
“Who gives a shit if we irritate her?” Henry lashed out suddenly. “This entire situation is that wench’s fault.”
Jonquinette jumped up off the chaise, walked over to the couch and slapped Henry across the face. “I’ve had just about enough of you calling me a wench, you motherfucking bastard!”
Both Henry and Meredith were shocked. Henry rubbed his face and looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t. Instead he glanced at me like he was searching for answers and I nodded for him to remain quiet.
I stood up. “Jude, it’s nice to see you again.”
“Save the bullshit, you bitch! I told you before that I wasn’t going anyplace so all this therapy shit is a waste of time. The Queen Bitch and her flunky can’t make me go away either.”
Meredith asked with disdain, “Who are you calling a queen bitch?”