Mind Over Mind

by Karina L. Fabian

  Ydrel reached out and shook his shoulder roughly and started jabbering at him in a language Joshua didn’t recognize.

  CHAPTER 14

  By the time Ydrel reached Isaac’s room, he’d all but forgotten Joshua’s presence. This was a new memory, with new pain. He hadn’t thought the old man’s memories could get worse, yet the anguish, heartache and humiliation as he saw his (Isaac’s, not my) wife torn away from him still threatened to overtake his defenses. The phantom ache in his solar plexus from when the guard struck Isaac was pale by comparison.

  He wanted to run, to curl up in a ball and hide from this new onslaught, but he knew that wouldn’t do any good. Isaac’s pain was just too strong. As he paused near the old man’s side, he wanted to cry. For Isaac. For himself. Instead, he composed a new scene.

  We’re in a broken-down shack. The setting sun sends thin shafts of light into the room, the only light we can afford for fear of detection. Still, we’re safe, if not very comfortable. You’re lying in a thin cot, exhausted, but dreaming. He fixed the scene in his mind, then pushed it into the mind of the old man. Then, he shook him.

  “Wake up, Isaac,” he hissed. “You’re having a nightmare. Do you want to tell the world we’re here? Wake up!”

  Isaac started, blinked at the psychic. “Gideon! Ruth. They took her. We have to find her. We must!” He tried to sit up, but Ydrel pushed him down firmly.

  “You’re not going anywhere. You are still too weak, and they are still looking for you. My men are working on it. You have to trust us.”

  Isaac let out a shuddering sigh. “Who’s this?”

  Ydrel blinked, remembering the intern beside him. “The American I told you about.”

  The old man glared suddenly at Joshua and spoke in accented English. “When is your country going to help put an end to this insanity? How many must die?!”

  *

  Caught off guard, Joshua managed to sputter, “We’re...uh...working on it. Really.”

  “And right now, there’s something else he should be working on. Right, Joshua?” The young client turned to face him, and Joshua got a good look at his eyes. Despite the dimness of the room, his pupils were contracted to mere pinpoints, and—were they jittering? Or was that a trick of the light? No, there it was again. Just like the other night.

  “Right, Joshua?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Right. You’ll be OK?”

  But Ydrel had already turned back to Isaac, brushing back the old man’s hair as he whispered to him in what Joshua now realized was probably Yiddish.

  Joshua left the room, shutting the door gently behind him. He stood for a moment blinking, disoriented as much from the change in mood as from the change in lighting. He had the feeling he was supposed to be doing something, but couldn’t think what. His thoughts kept returning to what he’d just witnessed.

  What was with those eyes? Serious weirdness. He loitered at the door a moment longer, trying to remember if he’d ever seen or read anything about a person’s eyes reacting like that. It was almost like he wasn’t seeing the real world at all, but looking at something in his mind. Or like his mind was (unconsciously?) trying to block out outside stimulus. He remembered reading, somewhere, about predatory birds whose eyes did similar things. Pinning? Pinpointing? Where had he read that, and did it apply? He shook himself and headed toward the nurses’ station. He at least needed to tell them about Isaac and Ydrel, and maybe if Sachiko was on duty, he’d ask her if she’d ever noticed anything like that in their young charge.

  He found her looking over logs at the duty station. Just the sight of her improved his mood. He leaned over the high desk and gave her his most winning smile. “Hi.”

  She barely glanced up. “Hi, yourself,” she snapped. “You’d better work on keeping track of time.”

  “Pardon?” He glanced at the clock. 2:15. Memory hit. “Oh, no! Edith!”

  Sachiko scribbled her initials on a page. “She called just a minute ago to see if we’d seen you. Better be glad it wasn’t Dr. Malachai; he’s a stickler for punctuality.”

  “I’m on my way. But first…” He told her about Ydrel and Isaac, omitting his observations for now. He could ask her about the eye thing later, when they had more time. Maybe he’d stay past dinner.

  Sachiko set down the log book and listened. When he was done, she sighed and murmured a couple of words in Italian. “I’ve been expecting something like this. I don’t think he’ll be with us much longer.”

  “Who? Mr. Goldstein?” Monique asked as she came from the glassed-off office. “I thought he was getting better. We had a great conversation just yesterday. He played a mean game of hearts, too.”

  “Brief periods of lucidity often precede death,” Sachiko replied, her mouth a thin line. “I’m going to talk to Dr. Malachai again about contacting the family. It’s been over a month since they’ve visited.”

  Monique sighed. “Not that he recognized any of them the last time. Alzheimer’s. What a rotten way to go.”

  *

  The door to Edith’s office was open, but he knocked gently anyway. “I’m sorry I’m late, but something unusual happened.” He launched into his story, starting with Ydrel’s odd behavior in his room and ending with the strange movements of his eyes.

  Dr. Sellars listened intently. Only after he’d finished did she seem to notice he was still standing, and she waved him toward one of the chairs. Even after he took a seat on the couch, she sat quietly thinking for a few minutes longer. “He hadn’t been with Isaac earlier?”

  “I don’t know. Not since noon when I was with him.”

  “He couldn’t have heard anything?”

  Joshua shook his head. “We were in the kitchen, then in his room with the radio on.”

  “How could he have known? He must have picked up on some clues.”

  Joshua shrugged, then grinned. “Makes you wonder if there isn’t something to his psychic abilities after all.”

  Edith returned the smile. “Don’t let Randall hear you say that. It was a stretch just to get him to agree to the extra time. But I like the idea of cooking and cleaning lessons for Ydrel, and your work last week was exemplary. I never noticed that thing with the eyes. You’re the closest thing we have to an expert here, with your NLP training. What do you make of it?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen or read anything like it. With your permission, I’d like to talk to some people, mentors in the field, about it.”

  “Just remember patient confidentiality. We take that even more seriously here than elsewhere, given our clientele. You know, Joshua, I think we made a good decision with you, especially as far as Ydrel is concerned.”

  Joshua waved off her comment, bringing in a “good feeling” anchor similar to the one he’d built with Ydrel. He had also established it with Edith some time ago. It was a matter of habit with him, one that made him easy to get along with—even though it annoyed his mother, who often caught him in the act. “Ydrel is an independent learner,” he reassured the psychiatrist. “I doubt he’ll have much trouble with the GED. He can probably CLEP a bunch of college classes, too. Any chance of arranging driving lessons?”

  Now Edith laughed. “Now who’s talking crazy?”

  *

  Hours later, Joshua had to admit he was feeling a little crazy. He’d just sent off several e-mails to people he knew in the field, describing the incidents with Ydrel and asking if they knew anything about a correlation between the unusual eye movement and supposed psychic abilities. His father would know whom he was talking about, but he thought he’d been general enough that he didn’t violate any of the confidentiality Edith was so concerned about. Then, he’d done a web search with no luck. Maybe he’d ask his friend Taylor to do one for him. Taylor was majoring in journalism and had taken courses on finding information on the Internet. Of course, how could he ask his friend without sounding like an idiot?

  I’ll worry about that later, he decided. He stretched and looked at the clock. Almost 6:00. Just en
ough time to grab some dinner from the dining hall and head over to the staff dining area. Sachiko had long since established the dinner hour as her study time, and for the most part, the staff honored that by letting her have the room alone. Having thought about it, Joshua felt like a little like a heel for interrupting her studying, but after that uncomfortable week when they hardly spoke, and the way she’d snapped earlier, he wanted to make sure she wasn’t mad at him again.

  *

  “If you don’t mind, I’d rather be alone,” Sachiko said as Joshua pushed his way through the door carrying a tray with dinner and two cappuccinos.

  He almost turned and left, but something in the way her voice caught made him hesitate. She was hunched over the table, shoulders tight and curled in, no book to be seen. She hadn’t even looked up to see who the interloper was. He walked in and set the tray down.

  “I said—”

  “It’s OK,” he interrupted, moving behind her and setting his hands lightly on her shoulders. “I got your back.”

  “Josh!” she hissed tightly, and he braced himself for an onslaught of fury. But it never came. Instead, she dissolved into silent sobs. He stood behind her, saying nothing, just letting his hands rest gently on her shoulders. Finally, he felt her breathing begin to calm, and she sniffled. “Can you bring me a tissue, please?”

  He fetched the box from the counter, then rummaged around for a clean dishcloth, which he dampened with cold water. Wordlessly, he passed it to her. She turned away from him, so he took the hint and sat down to eat while she composed herself.

  “Thanks,” she murmured as she pressed the cool cloth against her face. She took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths. “You know, this is why I’ll never go into geriatrics.”

  Joshua stopped in mid-bite. “You mean Isaac?!”

  “No, no. I’m sorry, I’m not being very clear. No, he’s fine, as fine as can be expected, anyway. For now, but,” again her voice caught, and she paused to swallow back tears, “but he’s not going to live much longer. I’d say a week. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “Has anybody contacted the family?”

  “I spoke to Randall—Dr. Malachai—after he took that bad turn last week. He said he spoke to them and they were aware of the situation.”

  “But they aren’t coming up,” Joshua concluded.

  Sachiko nodded. “And Dr. Malachai didn’t want to disturb them again. So I called. I thought maybe they didn’t…understand the immediacy of the situation.”

  Joshua grunted and took a bite of chicken before he said anything. He wouldn’t trust Malachai to convey the full message either, not if it somehow might look bad for their institution. “And?”

  Her already red eyes flashed with anger. “‘I’ve been appraised of my grandfather’s condition and am confident you’re providing the best of care. I am a member of your board after all. I’ve penciled in a date when I can get away for a visit.’ His grandfather is dying and he’s penciling in dates. I’m sure he’ll be calling Dr. Malachai to complain that one of the nurses is interrupting his oh-so important day.”

  “Will you get into trouble?”

  She waved away the thought. “I can handle Randall. What I can’t handle is watching that poor man just die.”

  Joshua shrugged, laid a hand on hers. “It’s kind of an occupational hazard.”

  She jerked away. “No! Nursing—medicine—is about fighting for life. Before I came here, I worked in the ER. Yeah, I know, people died. But we always did everything we could to save their lives. What can we do for poor Isaac?”

  “We give him comfort. Give him the respect and dignity he deserves. And, when the time comes, we make sure he doesn’t have to die alone. If his family can’t do that for him, we can.”

  “That easy, huh?”

  “No. That simple. It’s never easy.”

  “You sound so sure of yourself.”

  He shrugged. “My best friend’s mom is a hospice nurse. Sometimes, I help when I can. And my grandfather died at home. So, you know…” He shrugged again.

  For a moment, they were silent, lost in their own thoughts: he, imagining her in the ER, cool yet intense as she worked over some desperately injured victim, saving his life, and only afterward surrendering to the heebie-jeebies. She’d make an amazing doctor.

  She’s just amazing now.

  *

  He’s pretty amazing, Sachiko thought. In her mind’s eye, she saw him at someone’s deathbed, gentle, reassuring, holding the person’s hand and telling him it was OK, something wonderful was ahead. He would believe in that something wonderful…

  She caught him looking at her with a funny half-smile, and quirked a brow. He looked away, pursing his lips, a sign she’d learn to recognize in him as embarrassment. “That cappuccino sure smells good,” she ventured to distract him.

  With a genuine smile, he handed her the second cup.

  She blinked in feigned surprise. “What? You taking mind-reading lessons from Ydrel now?”

  “Not really.” Joshua laughed. “I…thought you might use it, considering what’s going on with Isaac and all.”

  “He’s a very dear man.” She took a sip and sighed. “But I don’t want to talk about that any more, or I might cry again. Tell me about your weekend. Did you have fun?”

  “I guess so. Sunday I went to church, then found a Barnes and Noble. Got Ydrel some stuff to study for his GED. Saturday I mostly cleaned my landlady’s yard. She’s getting on in years and can’t do a lot around the house, so she said she’d cut my rent if I did the garden and fixed things up. Shutters and stuff. Not real complex, but expensive if you hire someone.”

  “Aren’t we paying you enough here?’

  Once again, he pursed his lips and looked away before answering. “I…let my grades slip last year and lost my scholarships. I’m really hoping to make enough money over the summer that I can pay for college and just concentrate on studies this year. Really.”

  The last “really” let her know there was a lot more to this story, but he wasn’t ready to disclose it yet. She let him off the hook. “Fair enough. So. How do I look?”

  He gave her a look that would have been more appropriate on a date than at work, but all he said was, “Uh, kind of blotchy around the eyes and nose,” and she was glad she couldn’t read minds.

  “OK. Drastic measures time.” After another quick swallow of coffee, she went to the freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen vegetables. She pressed it to her face. Joshua noticed there was white tape across it that said: ICE PACK. DO NOT EAT.

  Joshua laughed. “I thought my mother was the only person who did that.”

  When she spoke, her voice was muffled. “Oh, it’s an old nurse’s trick. Frozen peas make the best ice packs. So, think you’ll be free this Saturday night?”

  *

  Saturday night? He was glad that her eyes were covered by her cold pack so that she didn’t see his jaw drop. He took a second to compose himself, hoping she would think he was mentally running over his schedule. When he spoke, he did his best to sound casual. “Sure. Evenings are free. What did you have in mind?”

  “I’m having a dinner party at my place. I’ve invited about nine people; you’ll know most of them from here. Dress is Newport casual: slacks, nice shirt, but not too fancy. It’ll start at 6:30, with dinner at 7. Want to come?” She turned to put away the peas, which gave him a chance again to compose himself before answering.

  “I’d love to. Should I bring anything?”

  She sat down again and took a long sip of cappuccino. “No food. I love to cook big, fancy meals. I used to help out in my father’s restaurant before I started med school. However, all my guests must provide the evening’s entertainment.”

  “O-ho. Sing for my supper?”

  “You’ve got it, although we’ve had a lot of different things: board games, comedy. Dr. Malachai will probably do magic tricks. He’s actually pretty good. Do I look better now?”

  “Mm-hm.”


  “Hope so. I’ve got to get back. I’ll e-mail directions to you tonight. Thanks for the coffee. And…” She set her hand on his. “Thanks.”

  *

  “I thought I might find you out here,” Sachiko said as she came up behind Ydrel. Her shift had just ended, and she’d gone to check on the young client before she went home. Finding his empty room, she’d headed for the inner courtyard, where she knew she’d find him reclined on one of the lounges, brooding at the stars. She took a seat next to his. “You OK?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. I guess. My head hurts, still. Sach—is it...OK…to wish that, that—”

  “That he’d die? I don’t know. It is, and it isn’t. It’s not fair that he should suffer.”

  Ydrel spoke in a whisper. “We hurt so bad. It’s not anything you can drug him against, either. I can’t shield myself. I’m not sure I want to. If I did, he’d be hurting and alone.”

  “You’ve been a good friend,” was her only reply. She hadn’t doubted his psychic powers for years, since the night he’d caught her in the supply room stealing medicines with the intention of killing herself.

  *

  She’d been on the midnight shift then, and everyone had been asleep. Even her coworker was nodding off at the desk. Ydrel had been awakened by her acute anguish and had run to the usually locked room where they kept the medicines, where he’d found her mixing herself a deadly poison, pulling a little of several narcotics so that the loss hopefully wouldn’t be noticed until it was too late. He’d known exactly what she’d been thinking: Not that anyone notices what I do, anyway. For two years, she’d been carrying on an affair with the chief psychiatrist and no one had noticed, much to Malachai’s satisfaction. Last month, when morning sickness sent her running to the head at four o’clock in the morning faithfully for two weeks, no one noticed. No one noticed anything unusual in her sudden absence, nor in her change in demeanor when she returned to work; they were all content to attribute it to the “flu” Dr. Malachai had mentioned she was getting over.