The Units

by Jamie Mackay

  ***

  The beginning of the following week dragged on, with Jake's nightly phone call acting as the only highlight of the day. Tatum was surprised at how she'd previously been perfectly happy to work and to go home, alone. Now that she'd done a complete turn-around about Jake, every moment without him felt long and lonely. She tried to keep herself distracted, time passed faster that way. She filled her time working, visiting with Sam or Milligan, and contemplating possible explanations for the inconsistencies she continued to find. Even her conversations with Jake would sometimes turn into fact finding missions.

  Thursday was her report-day and she knew that, despite the butterflies in her stomach, she fully intended to return to Unit Five the following afternoon. But, before her trip to Unit Five could meet her intended need, she required some additional information. Feeling just a touch manipulative and guilty, as she had felt the previous weekend when she spoke with Milligan, Tatum encouraged Jake to talk about his previous life, and specifically Julia's death. She dove in where she hadn't been willing to go before.

  .

  "So, did I tell you that I think the office I was assigned at work may have been Julia's previous office?"

  Tatum made the comment very matter-of-factly, intent on avoid too much emotion in the conversation about Jake's dead wife.

  "No, I'm pretty sure I would have remembered you telling me that," Jake responded. "What makes you think that?"

  "I just found a few forms in the desk drawers, that's all; stuff with her signature on it."

  "Hmm," was all he said.

  "I told you I visited Units Four and Five last week, right?"

  "Yes, you did," answered Jake, expressing his disapproval with his voice.

  "Pretty nasty places."

  "You don't know the half of it."

  "You said the guy that hurt Julia was from Unit Five, didn't you?"

  "Yah, Lee Trent, the bastard. He's still there. He's crazy, so he gets to use that as an excuse for the shit he did. Uses it so he doesn't have to do real time. Sick pig".

  Seems like real time to me, thought Tatum, remembering the horror of Unit Five.

  Tatum had what she wanted.

  She made a mental note, Lee Trent, and vowed that his file would be the first one she pulled the next day.

  Then, she quickly changed topics, hopeful that she hadn't destroyed any chance of having her normally enjoyable conversation with Jake.

  .

  Thursday morning Tatum went straight to her office and booted her computer. She was determined to get all of her reports done first thing so that she would have time for her planned visit to Unit Five.

  Before going to visit with James, she used her new access capabilities to go into the filing room and pull Lee Trent's file. She wasn't so much interested in what the file had to say, it would be used primarily as a ploy to convince the Unit Five staff that she had some business with Mr. Trent.

  She took some of her lunch-hour, while she sat with James, to quickly browse through the file. Nothing seemed particularly surprising. He was dual diagnosis; he had been diagnosed with schizophrenia as a young child and he also had a mental age much lower than his chronological years. The file suggested that his mental age may have been around that of a first grader. His first offense was a sexual offense with a similar aged handicapped girl who lived in a group home where he attended social activities. They had been dating for some time, and he wanted to make their relationship sexual. She wasn't so sure. One night, they decided to go further than they'd ever gone. She got scared and started to scream. Afraid that he would be in trouble if someone came and found them in their compromising position, he put a pillow over her face to keep her screams muted. He pushed the pillow down too hard for too long and ended up in Unit Five on charges of sexual assault and second degree murder. He had gone to the forensic psych unit in place of the provincial penitentiary because multiple psychiatrists testified that he had no capacity to realize the consequences of his actions.

  Tatum read on. His second offense was Julia. According to the file, Lee had a daughter that had been conceived during a separate consensual sexual encounter with a girl who also had developmental delay. Julia thought it was important that he meet his daughter and was trying to help him to get rights to visitation. Julia was pretty and friendly and Lee didn't understand that her approaches were amicable, not sexual. The file described him violently sexually assaulting her and then strangling her, keeping her quiet so no one else would hear.

  .

  Tatum thought about Michael, sweet Michael. The truth was that, somewhere deep down, she knew the mistake Lee had made during his first offense was something that Michael was fully capable of, unless under constant supervision. He had the body and physical desires of a man, and the mind of a child. However, what she also knew was that the fact that Michael was capable of the first offense, in no way made him capable of completing the offenses against Julia. The second offense had components of malice and evil; pieces of the attack seemed intentional and well-planned. Tatum wondered whether what she thought about the differences in these attacks for Michael, also applied for Lee.

  .

  Tatum said goodbye to James. She still felt uneasy at the idea of returning to Unit Five, wondering whether her stomach could handle it. She entered the Unit, unfamiliar with the script of what clinicians did when they wanted to see a patient. She went to the sign-in desk, the same one that visitors would use if they wanted to see a patient. The sign-in desk was adjacent to the visitor's seating area where visitors could visit with patients through secured, break and bullet proof glass. No direct contact occurred with the patients and those from the outside.

  "Good morning, I'm Dr. O'Neill; I'm here to see Mr. Trent," Tatum said to the desk clerk in her most official, not-to-be-questioned voice.

  "Sign here," said the desk clerk pointing to a clinician sign-in form.

  Tatum thought for a moment and then decided to take her chances that the guard at the desk was less than concerned about her being there. She diligently signed 'Anne Horstings' as she requested Mr. Trent's dorm number.

  "He's in Dorm 6 on Tier 2, but you'll have to be accompanied. Hey Shane," he yelled out to the uniformed man standing by the guard's station. "Dr. O'Neill needs an escort up to Trent's room."

  "On it," said Shane as he rushed over to help the pretty doctor, "Right this way ma'am."

  Tatum followed Shane through the common room and up the stairs to room 6 where, through the bars, she saw a large man sitting alone on the bottom bunk. He was hovered over and curled in the corner with his head lowered. Tatum approached the bars, staying closer to Shane than she should have.

  "Mr. Trent? I'm Dr. O'Neill. I was hoping I could talk with you for a moment." No response. "Mr. Trent?"

  Lee slowly lifted his head. Like Tatum had observed with many individuals with developmental delay, Lee's head seemed oversized, even for his large body, and his jaw appeared to jut forward. His hair was cut in a crew cut, making his large head look like a giant egg. He looked at Tatum and anger filled his face.

  "What do you want? Why are you guys always bugging me?"

  "I don't want anything Mr. Trent; I just wanted to meet you."

  "Well I don't wanna meet you."

  "Don't you like to talk to people?"

  "No!"

  "How come?"

  "They are all liars."

  "Who are liars?"

  "Doctors. Everybody. Liars."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "I didn't do it."

  Tatum looked at Shane.

  "He always says that," explained Shane. "They all do."

  "I see," said Tatum. "Shane, would you mind letting me in to talk to him for a moment in private. You could watch from right here?"

  "Umm, it's not really protocol to go into their dorms."

  "I'll be fine; we can leave the cell door ajar and you will be right here. Plus, there's video cameras on us at all times."

  "Yah,
okay. But only for a couple of minutes."

  "Just a couple. You bet."

  Shane unlocked the cell and let Tatum in closer to the prisoner.

  "What do you want?" Lee shouted attempting to be threatening.

  Tatum watched his body language closely; she'd had lots of experience with temper tantrums with her brother. As long as he was still seated with his arms crossed in front, she was fairly certain he wouldn't strike out. Yelling was a passive defense; it typically hid internal fear, not aggression.

  "I just wanted to come closer so that you could see that I trust you not to hurt me," Tatum said, hoping she was right. "I don't think you'll hurt me," she repeated.

  "I won't hurt you," he said in return. "I don't like to hurt people," he continued.

  "I believe you," responded Tatum quietly. "You said earlier that you didn't do it. What did you mean?"

  "I didn't hurt that pretty lady. The one they said I hurt. I didn't hurt her."

  "Then why did everyone think you did?"

  "Cause they put me in there before anybody came to see. I didn't do it."

  "Then who did it Lee?"

  "I dunno. There was no one there when they took me to the room, only her. She was hurt, bad, and I got scared. I didn't do it."

  "I believe you," Tatum repeated quietly enough that she hoped no one else could hear.