Part 9 (1/2)
”Mustn't touch, Jimbo,” Father's voice chided. ”Mustn't ever, ever touch.”
”Shut up.” He saw Dr. Conyors was saying something to the taller guy with the moustache. Jimmy focused on him, wanting him gone, wis.h.i.+ng that he wouldn't talk with Barrett. ”What are you saying?”
She was turning away now, heading east, probably back to her office. He watched as she stopped and pulled out a tiny cell phone. He needed to know who was on the other end.
She clicked it closed, and was nearly out of view when the tall cop called out to her. Even through the closed windows, Jimmy could hear him use her first name. Such disrespect, surely she'd ignore him, or at the very least inform him that she was to be referred to as doctor. But that's not what happened. She just turned and smiled as the dark-suited man jogged toward her. He waved back to his partner, and to Jimmy's horror, he and Dr. Conyors walked off together and disappeared from view.
”No!”
”Stupid boy,” Father needled in his ear. ”Such a stupid boy. But don't worry, she'll see you get nicely tucked away.”
”Shut up!” Jimmy shouted into Mother's empty boudoir.
”What's the matter? Can't deal with a little compet.i.tion?”
”She doesn't like him. How could she?”
”I bet he has a nice big c.o.c.k. Perhaps if you asked him, he'd show it to you.”
”Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
Father's voice sang inside his head. ”Stupid boy, stupid boy. Jimbo is a stupid boy.”
Jimmy pictured Ellen, she'd know what to do; she always did. He had to think, to plan. He had to find a way to get through this. Dr. Conyors had caught him off guard; she knew that he wasn't taking the medication.
”But if she loved you, Jimbo, why would she care?”
As always, Father found the thing that hurt most. ”She loves me,” he said, but felt a horrible uncertainty.
”She'll send you back.”
Jimmy turned frantic. That couldn't happen. He couldn't go back to Croton; he'd never survive. Needing to calm himself, he tried to retrieve his earlier fantasy of he and Barrett on stage. They'd make music, he'd take her in his arms, his lips would find hers, and love's first kiss; it would be perfect.
Father's hissing laughter surrounded him, fueling his fear. ”You wouldn't know what to do with her. Mustn't touch. Mustn't ever touch.”
She'd said she was going to check his blood; she'd know that he'd not been taking his pills. She didn't trust him.
Now he almost regretted what had happened to Dr. Kravitz-what he'd done. Not that he felt remorse, but a sort of dull reflection of that emotion. Kravitz too had wanted to check his blood.
He ran down to the kitchen and into the pantry. There, surrounded by gla.s.s-fronted cabinets filled with priceless dinner services, sterling silver tureens, and the Bennington ironstone that Mother had purchased during a Vermont retreat with one of her drivers, he reached up and into a pink-and-gold Meissen teapot. His long fingers fished inside and pulled out a handful of blue and white pills. Selecting four rhomboid-shaped lithium and three tiny white Risperdal, he poured himself a gla.s.s of water, and one by one swallowed his emergency stash. Her threat was now a hollow one; by the time Hector arrived in the morning his lithium level would be normal.
He stared out the back window, still trying to calm himself, watching a crow hop on the edge of the muck-filled fountain. And suddenly, he realized what she was doing. It was obvious; she was testing him, wanting him to prove his love. She was a prize worth fighting for, and she knew it. Like the fairy tales Maylene would read to him in her warm Southern drawl, like Snow White and Sleeping Beauty waiting for the prince who could prove himself worthy of love's first kiss. It had to be earned, had to be fought for.
He headed out the back door, through the courtyard and into the carriage house. In the sound-proofed upstairs, he went to the phone, and used a line that the review board did not know existed. The entire world of the carriage house had been concealed from them. The phone lines, the cable for the computer were all registered through a subsidiary of Martin Industries. The board had never thought to ask if the fabulous mansion in Gramercy was connected to a separate property. After all, the carriage house had its own 19th Street address, and why tell them more than they demanded to know. The psychiatric review board had total control over his life-at least it was supposed to. They could tap his phone, search his home, and had explicit directions to audit any computer in his house.
He dialed Ellen's direct office number-she didn't like him to do that, but he had to.
She picked up on the third ring.
”Ellen.”
”What's the matter?” she asked, keying in to his anxiety.
”It didn't go right.”
She paused, ”What do you mean, Jimmy?”
”She's testing me. I need you to help me.”
”I see...Were you careful?”
”I don't know. I think so,” he felt lost and exposed. ”Help me, Ellen.”
”I like her, Jimmy,” Ellen said, as she carefully chose her words. ”But one slip and you're back there. You have to listen to me. She's much smarter than the other one. You're certain that you want to go through with this?”
”I have to see her,” he said, barreling over his sister's caution. ”I need to get inside, to know what she's doing. You have to help me.”
”And you'll do as I say?”
He pictured Ellen in Father's old office. He hadn't been there since his release, but could easily imagine how all traces of dear old dad had been replaced with slick Italian modern. ”Yes.”
”And Father? Can you control him? Can you keep him from f.u.c.king things up again?”
”Yes, yes, please ... and I need you to bring me a new key for my bracelet, the old one broke.”
”You're not being careful,” she said. ”What happened to the old one? And I don't have to do anything. What if I refuse? I've done enough.”
”No,” he said, suddenly mad at her, she shouldn't play with him like this; it wasn't nice. ”If I go down, this time you'll come with me. I know what you did. I've been in the bas.e.m.e.nt. I know everything.”
”You're bluffing, Jimmy.”
He said nothing, sensing her uncertainty, knowing that he was right; she'd played Hansel and Gretel without him. He waited, letting the seconds stretch into a full minute of silence.
Finally, she spoke, ”No sense arguing. There's work to be done. But keep Father out of this, Jimmy.”
”I'll try, Ellen. s.h.i.+t!” His eye caught a movement in the front door monitor.
”What is it?”
”It's Hector and he's with someone at the door. I've got to go.” Without saying goodbye, he raced down the stairs. There was no mistaking the persistent clang of the doorbell.
As he cleared the dining hall he heard the added banging of the bra.s.s door knocker.
”Coming!” he shouted, wanting the noise to stop, frightened by this unexpected intrusion. ”I'm coming.” He peered through the gla.s.s fisheye and saw his case worker and a young black woman he'd never met.
”Jimmy, man,” Hector said, as the door opened, ”what took you so long?”