by K. J. Dahlen
"Sounds good." Sara slid out some notes and arranged them on the table in front of her. She wore the same dark business suit from the day but her eyes opened suddenly as if in awareness.
"What about our guest? We were supposed to have someone--right?"
"He called."
"And?"
"Hook up. I’ve got him waiting on line two." Max pointed at the phone.
Sara reached for her end. "Hello."
"Yes. Can I help you?" The man’s voice was deep.
"You’re T.R.?"
"That‘s right."
"I’m Dr. Aspen," She waved a hand in front of her face. "How are you?"
"Nervous, but I’ll get over it."
"Well, the format is easy," she said. "We’ll take some calls and listen. I’ve got some issue notes but probably won’t need it with you on tonight."
"I didn’t want you to change anything because of me."
"No problem." She looked up. Max was waving his finger as if to say "one minute."
"So how was your day?" Sara added.
"Horrible. And yours?"
"Bizarre. But then you can expect that in my field."
T.R. took a deep breath. "I’d have a lot to talk with you about."
"That so."
Max raised his hand. "Twenty seconds."
"The doctor’s in tonight so what’s on your mind?"
"I always screw up around beautiful women," he confessed.
"That so? What happened?"
"Today I met the nicest lady. She was gorgeous, thoughtful, and I couldn’t even…" He paused.
Max lifted both hands: "Ten seconds". Some background music came over the speakers with an introduction to "Mental Health and You."
"Do what?" Sara asked with her hand cuffing the phone.
"Talk with her." T.R. replied. "I was frozen. Not cold. Just scared stiff."
Max held up a thumb. Sara held the phone off to the side.
"Welcome to the show," she said into the microphone. It hung from the ceiling just above her nose. "I’m Dr. Sara Aspen. The topic is mental health. And we have a wonderful guest tonight. His name is T.R. Stallion and many of you will recognize his novels." She paused. Max pushed a button and pointed at the phone with a motion as if to hang it up.
"Welcome to the show, T.R."
"Glad to be here," he said over the speakers.
"To begin with, tell us about this experiment," Sara added. "I heard about it this morning when I was getting ready for work."
"Yeah," his voice was tired. "I wanted the ladies out there to teach me about love."
"That’s odd coming from an expert." She smiled.
"I wouldn’t be so sure about that."
Sara looked at the microphone again. "I’ve got a lot of questions of my own. I’m a practicing therapist, but I’ll have to confess a long standing attraction for your work."
"You’re too kind."
"Tell us about yourself."
"That’s the dull part," he replied. "I want to tell you about a wonderful woman I met today."
Max held up a hand. A name appeared on the screen. It came with the word "Natalie."
"Hold that thought T.R.," Sara looked down at the computer. "We’ve got a caller already." She waited. "You’re on, Natalie. What’s your comment?"
"I didn’t mean to back into you and leave in the bank parking lot today." Her voice was high pitched. "I really was going to stop."
"That wasn’t me," T.R. laughed. "But I’m sure the police will want to visit with you."
Sara leaned against the table. "Confession is good for the soul, Natalie."
Max held up another finger. The word "Jessica" came on the screen.
"We‘ve got another caller," Sara noted. "You’re on, Jessica."
The woman’s voice was smooth. "I saw you today," she whispered. "And wanted to, you know, talk more."
"I like the sound of that," T.R. said. "If you’re the one I’m thinking about, it was nice."
"Tell us about it," Sara added.
"Well, let me describe the setting." T.R. paused. "We were near the river."
"That could be anywhere in ’river’ city."
"The birds were out. The water was smooth. The wind set your hair off to the side." T.R. paused again. "It made the light pull off the water and across your eyes. I wanted to stand there all day."
"Wow." Sara took a deep breath. "Now you know how he writes those novels, ladies."
"And that’s the odd part," T.R. continued. "I’m a total failure at love. I wanted to sit there and just be with you."
"WHY DIDN’T YOU?" Jessica asked.
"That gets back to my hint from this morning."
"It was something about patience," Sara looked down at the telephone. It was still off the hook. She started to put it back on the cradle but a caller I.D. was next to the receiver. And it blinked with the words Bend in the River Café.
"Where are you calling from?" Sara asked.
T.R. paused. "Why do you ask that?"
"I don’t want you to give away your location or anything."
"I’d go crazy," T.R. confessed. "Really, I can’t handle any attention. That’s behind all the secrecy."
"My analytical mind is spinning now," Sara told him.
Max held up ten fingers and then pulled the index finger across his throat.
"Well, let me interrupt. I’m Dr. Sara Aspen. We’re about to break. You tuned into Mental Health and You. Tonight’s guest is the romance novelist T.R. Stallion. He’s here for an experiment and will take your questions after this…"
The music came on again. Sara adjusted her earphones and sat up again.
"I’m sorry about that question," she said. "I just looked down at the caller I.D. in front of me."
"No problem."
"That’s a special place," she added. "I had the best time there today."
"You did?"
"Yeah, I was supposed to meet a patient there. Of course they never showed up. They never do. But I met this waiter with an incredible dog. I didn’t get his name but he paid for my meal. It was really special out there by the water."
There was silence on the other end.
"Still there?" she asked.
"Yes. I mean..." He coughed. "Wow."
"Do you know him?"
"Oh, him… don’t know if I really do." His voice got weaker.
Max held up ten fingers again. Sara adjusted her headphones and looked down at her notes. Theme music came over the speakers. The green light came back on.
"Welcome back," she said into the microphone. "I’m Dr. Sara Aspen. The show is Mental Health and You and our special guest tonight is romance writer T.R. Stallion. I get goose bumps just thinking about your novels. Want to talk about that?"
He laughed. "You or the stories."
She squinted her eyes. "You know how to make a lady feel special."
"Well, I was talking about one I met today. It felt like love at first sight."
Max held up a finger again. The name "Stephanie" came on the screen.
"We’ve got another caller," Sara added. "Her name is Stephanie. What’s your question or comment?"
The girl took a deep breath. "Well, I felt the same way today," she said.
"How’s that?" T.R. asked.
"I knew it was you at the Quick-e Lube. You were so thoughtful with all those customers. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, especially when you looked in my window to ask about windshield wiper fluid."
"I wish that were me, Stephanie, but it wasn’t."
Sara took a deep breath. "Sounds like some dynamics going on in that exchange." She glanced at the computer screen. Names began to accumulate in a long list.
"We’re getting calls from all over. We’ll get to some of those but first tell us about yourself. Some people may not read romance fiction."
"Okay." He said. "I’m 43 and single, have been all my life."
"That’s odd for someone who writes about love."
"And
I’m sure you could explain it all to me." He paused in thought. "I may write about relationships but I really don’t know anything about them." He began to stammer. "I get weak around nice looking women."
"That’s something to explore," Sara replied. "Sounds like someone got burned along the way."
"Yes and no. There were special ladies along the way but…"
"Something happened," Sara commented. "And it’s still painful."
"Very much." He paused.
Sara glanced at Max. He had both hands in the air. "Let’s take a caller. We’ve got dozens on the screen."
She went to click on one but a phone went off. It was in her pocket. She looked down and then at the screen.
"Go ahead, caller."
Sara held the cell phone and looked at the number: "Answering Service." There was a tag below it. "URGENT".
Max saw the confusion, got up and pointed at the door. "I’ll take over."
She hit the on button and continued out. "Yes?"
"Dr. Aspen, this is your answering service. I‘m sorry to interrupt but you’ve got a suicidal call."
"Sure. Put them through."
She continued outside into the hallway then through the lobby and into the night. "Hello?"
A man’s voice came on with a loud screech. "I’ve got a gun pointed at my head. The hammer is pulled back and my finger is on the trigger."
"Who is this?"
"Blake."
"From today?"
"Yeah. But you won’t have to worry about that in several minutes."
Sara took a deep breath. The river gurgled off to the side. "Please give me a chance. Let’s talk about this. Put the pistol down."
"Not on your life."
"Then at least turn the weapon to the side and release the hammer."
"No way."
"You’re upset."
"Got that."
"Tell me about it."
"Look, Doctor. I’m tired of all the pain. You understand?"
"Sure I do. It’s getting to you."
"Just like today. I planned to meet you at that place today at lunch--but couldn’t."
"There’s more involved here."
"I’m looking in the mirror now. The gun is next to my head. I’m about to pull the trigger."
Sara took another deep breath. "Keep talking to me. Tell me about your anger." She looked out at the water. It made swirling motions with the current as it snaked along the edge.
"You don’t know what it’s like to live with pain every day of your life."
"You’re absolutely right. I don’t know about your pain. So tell me about it."
"I’m tired of all the crap. The lies. The jerks."
"Sounds work related."
"SURE IT IS!"
Sara closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. "You write for a living."
"If you want to call it that."
"You wouldn‘t tell me about the books."
Blake laughed. "They’re procedure manuals. I work for the IRS."
"And that frustrates you."
He laughed with a type of disgust. "Put yourself in my place."
Sara took another deep breath. "You want something better for your life."
"You wouldn’t?"
"Listen, Blake. There’s hope. You can always get another job. I’ll help you but you’ve got to put the gun down. Tell me where you are now."
"I’m at home."
"What’s the address? I don‘t have that information. It‘s back in my office."
"No way. You’ll get the cops over here. They’ll lock me up like a dog."
"Listen to me. I was just talking with a writer. He’d be glad to talk with you. Just tell me where you are and we’ll--stop by for a chat. Please. Put the gun down."
"What will he talk about?"
"All about writing. He does romance novels. His name is T.R. Stallion."
Blake paused. "I heard about him." More silence.
"Just tell me the address."
"I can’t take the big crowds anymore."
"Course you can’t Blake. You live in a condo, right?"
"Yeah, number five at the hilltop."
Sara nodded and started back into the building. The lobby had a phone and she reached for the receiver with fingers that shook across the 911. Max was at the control booth on the other side of the glass window. And he was waving a hand at her as if to come back.
"You still there?" Blake said on the cell phone.
"Yeah, hold a minute," she answered. "I’ve got to scratch an itch." Sara then listened to the dial tone as the operator picked up.
"Emergency. Can I help you?"
"Yeah. I’m Dr. Sara Aspen. I’ve got a suicidal patient at Number 5 Condo in the Hilltop development. He‘s got a loaded pistol next to his head and he’s threatening to pull the trigger."
"Hold while we dispatch a unit," the operator said.
Max had both eyebrows lifted as if to shout. Blake was shouting on the other end.
"YOU’RE CALLING THE COPS! I KNOW IT."
Sara put a hand up to her eyes and lifted the cell phone. "Blake, please bear with me. We can help. You’ve got to give us a chance though."
"HAVE YOU EVER WORKED FOR THE IRS?"
Max started to pound on the glass window. Sara waved back and looked at the other phone.
"Okay, Doctor, we’ve got help on the way."
"Thank you." She hung up.
"You said the writer was coming over with you for a chat!" There was a hurt tone in his voice.
"We will. I’ll ask him right now. But you’ve got to promise me you’ll stay on the line."
"There’s a bullet in this gun with my name on it."
Sara opened the door into the hallway that led to the sound booth. The control room was dark. Max threw his hands up."