Inanimate (12 page)

In the city Connor was back in the
colorful, toy filled room with Doctor Frieda. Desperate to try and
re-establish a connection with the boy Frieda attempted to speak to
him again. Connor sat with another book in front of him, this time
he read a novel more appropriate for older teens as if “The
Tastiest Squirrel” was simply a book he read to get Frieda to
believe he was less intelligent than he really was.

“
Connor, I
’ll understand if you don’t want to
talk to me. But I am sorry about what happened
yesterday.”

“
Why did you feel it was ok to
lie to me?” Connor asked somberly as he placed the book face
down.

“
It was just a mistake. I
do
have
nephews and nieces I read to, I just don’t have kids of my
own.”

“
Well then you should
have just said that.
Would your nephew and niece be happy you lied to them?”

“
No, they wouldn’t.”

“
But you did it to me? I that
because I’m not as important to you as they are?”

“
No of course not Connor,
it’s just…”

“
It’s just that I’m a
patient, not a real person.”

From behind the glass MacNamee shook his
head.

“
He’s playing with him” he
said quietly as
Crass nodded in agreement.

Connor picked his book back up and started
reading.

“
Connor
…”

Frieda
started

“…
Don’t think that way; we all
care about you a lot here, me especially. We want to help you get
better.”

“
Funny, I’ve been hearing that a
lot today
.”

Connor
said from behind his book.

“
It’s true Connor, you can trust
us. You can trust me.”

Connor reluctantly put the book back down
again. He acted overly suspicious, like a mouse creeping from the
pantry trying to avoid a cat.

“
I
can?” he asked timidly.

“
Yes, you can.”

“
Well I guess I must be able
to.
I mean,
you got my toys for me didn’t you?

“
Yes, I did”
Frieda said boldly.

From the other side of the
glass
MacNamee’s eye’s widened and he breathed
heavily:

“
Oh shit!”

“
It was you wasn’t
it?
’ Connor’s
eyes focused in on Frieda “It was you who got them for
me?”

“
Yes I did Connor. I got them all
sorted out for you
.”

“
Well
you see; there’s another
problem.”

“
Doctor Greg told me he got the
toys for me. Him! Not you! Are you lying to me again?”

Flustered, Frieda
tried his best to
answer.

“
No, I’m not lying to
you
.”

“
Ah then Greg
is a liar too then?”

“
Well no…you see I told him to
get them for you.”

Connor
sat with the composure and patience
of a metronome.

“
Paul, you’re
getting nervous. You people are
no good at telling the truth around here. How do you expect me to
trust you if everyone keeps giving me reasons not to?”

“
This kid
is unbelievable!” blurted Crass “He’s
making fools out of us! Isn’t he supposed to be the sick
one?”

MacNamee stood beside his mentor trying
to compose himself. He looked hard at the older doctor before
deciding to raise a suggestion.

“
We need to give him something to
relax him. I recommend Valium
.”

“
You want to drug the child just
to get a competitive advantage over him? Greg that’s not how we do
it here, we talk first
.”

“
Ben, with all due respect I am
aware of procedure but right now talking isn’t getting us anywhere.
He’s playing with us!”

Crass
looked at MacNamee
studiously.

“
Well what’s the rush? The boy
will be with us for a long while. It’s not like he needs to give
evidence in some ongoing investigation.”

MacNamee sighed and thought about his
response for a long moment.

“
I’m worried that the longer
he
believes
he is smarter than us the less likely it is he will open up to us.
If he gets it in his head that we can’t be trusted then that’s it.
There will be no chance of us ever helping him.”

“
And you believe drugs are the
best course of action?”

Crass trusted his young colleagues
opinion but he wanted to make sure he had the right thought process
before approving any course of action.

“
I think
Connor
will
talk to Frieda, I think he
wants
to. But he is way too tense. You know how
hard it is when patients first get here. I suggest we give him
something before lights out; that way he’ll get a good night’s
sleep and maybe we’ll have an easier time with him
tomorrow.”

Crass looked back into the room. Connor
sat back reading his book while Frieda stared at him. Crass didn’t
like Frieda, neither did he respect him but he knew he needed him.
The man had screwed up two pivotal interviews almost irreparably
and Crass knew this wasn’t the first time. Frieda had many
qualifications but Crass simply felt he lacked common sense and the
old man found that fact very hard to tolerate.

“
Ok Greg, let’s do it your way.
We’ll see how he
is in the morning then we’ll maybe get him back in that
room. But I’m telling you now I’m going ahead with this against my
better judgment. I just hope you’re sure about what you are
doing.”

MacNamee sighed and looked in at Connor
thoughtfully.

“
I hope so too Ben. I hope
so too.”

CHAPTER 14

Andy sipped on another bourbon. He hadn’t
bothered to count how many he had had already. The demon known as
denial taught him many tricks long ago and this was one of them.
His limit was set by himself alone and right now his thoughts were
of nothing; his vision was blurry and he was feeling no pain
whatsoever, just the way he liked it. The bar was fairly quiet on
this early evening but as time wore on a few local patrons began
shooting pool and the barflies sporadically swarmed, moving from
table to bar back to table. The shades from neon beer
advertisements become more apparent as natural light dwindled
outside. A bluish tinge encapsulated Andy’s drink putting a sparkle
on ice cubes slowly melting. Too many drinks afforded Andy the
ignorance of missing the mood change in the bar as a group entered
with intent in their eyes.

“
Is that him?”

The words barely audible with
Andy’s mind situated somewhere between oblivion and
inebriation
.

“
I don’t
know I can’t see his face” came the
female response.

“
Hey! Buddy!”

The call, directed at Andy,
might as well
have been directed at the glass for the response it
received.

“
Hey! Buddy!”

This time the call, more
forceful and accompanied b
y a treble tap on the back drew a response, albeit
a sluggish one. Turning around slowly, Andy was confronted by a
half dozen young men and women led by a large twenty-something
attempting to provoke him. The broad-shouldered man looked over his
shoulder to the girl behind him. His faux-hawk styled hair implied
boyishness but his demeanor suggested otherwise.

“
This the
guy you were talking about
Sandy?”

Sandy
, a pretty, but mouthy blonde behind
him answered.

“
Yeah
Tony, that’s the guy.”

Tony
sized Andy up.

“
I read about you in the paper.
You’re the guy with the psycho kid aint ya? The ‘Baby
Killer?’”

Andy
tried his best to look annoyed but it
didn’t work. The alcohol in his blood allowed him only partial
control of his facial muscles so instead he managed a weird
grimace.

“
Look” he
slurred “I don’t want any hassle
here, I just came in for a drink.”

“
Looks like you came in for more
than one!” commented Jimmy, one of Tony’s shorter friends behind
him.

Fuelled by his
friend’s comment
Tony continued his harassment.

“
What’s the plan tonight then?
Going to get all liquored up and gonna cause some trouble here?
Maybe a couple of dead bodies show up tomorrow too eh? I
read
that
bodies tend to follow you. I read about your girlfriend and your
wife. Maybe you had a little hand in that eh?”

Andy
was clearly annoyed but, even in his
stupor he knew when he was outgunned and decided not to
retaliate.

“
What do you
want?”

Andy’s
words poured from a mouth surrounded
by lazy muscles. Stepping forward like bravado on legs Tony laid
down his law.

“
We want you to
leave
!”

This demand
bothered Andy as he had just
bought another drink before the group showed up and had no
intention of leaving it unfinished.

“
I’m not leaving till I
finish my bourbon, now piss off!”

Andy
swiveled round in his chair, turning
his back on Tony. With a chuckle, Tony looked at the
floor.

“
Maybe you didn’t
understand
.”

Grabbing Andy’s shoulders
he
yanked him
hard to the floor, sending a column of ice cubes teen feet across
the room. Pain shot through the back of Andy’s head as he hit the
ground. Luckily for Andy he was too drunk to really feel it. Taking
him by the collar despite the bartender’s protests Tony easily
dragged the smaller Andy across the floor towards the door as
patrons hurriedly scattered from their path. With a boot Tony
kicked open the door and tossed Andy outside on the
sidewalk.

“
Ok, your motel
is across the street
old man. Pack up your shit and head on out.”

Andy
used a nearby car as a rest and
pulled himself to his feet; at this point not caring who knew who
he was. He wasn’t mad he was bothered during a nice quiet evening.
He wasn’t even annoyed about the fact he was pulled off his stool.
Like any true alcoholic he was outraged he was forced to stop
drinking and even worse than that, Tony knocked it out of his hand,
wasting perfectly good liquor. It was this outrage that caused Andy
to make his first real mistake of the night. Tony was busy joking
about the feebleness of Andy to his pals when he was caught off
guard. Andy lunged in and landed a square right to his chin,
reminiscent of the one he used to crack the wood on his bedroom
door. Off balance, Tony stumbled over. This would have been a good
start to the fight for Andy but unfortunately for him, his drunken
state caused him to lose his balance too. Falling into to the arms
of his unsuspecting friends Tony was incensed. The air was still
and warm when the fight began, few cars drove past this road this
night. Tony’s first strike in retaliation was an uppercut to the
jaw of the stumbling Andy, causing him to bite down hard on his own
tongue; sending him reeling into a parked car. The alarm on the car
wailed out and caused a couple of patrons to come out to see what
was going on. The rest of them were used to Tony’s scrapping and
did their best to ignore it. One of Tony’s other friends, Brian,
ushered the curious patrons back inside where he kept them for the
remainder. Unable to see what was happening the people inside could
only listen to the blows which rung out, mixed in with grunts from
the two men. Andy’s tongue was numb but he kept on going. The
adrenaline/alcohol blend coursing through his body prevented him
from feeling pain. He may have been exceedingly passive when it
came to women but Andy did know how to fight. Andy grew up in a
small town like this and he was involved in his fair share of
scraps. He was angry now and wanted to end this one quickly.
Leaning on the car he deliberately wobbled, trying to feign he was
feebler than he was, while his hand reached into his pocket and
took his motel key. Placing the sharp silver colored door key
between his knuckles he made a fist with it, using his fingers to
pull the metal tight against his palm.

“
You just
couldn
’t stay
down could you old man?

Tony
sneered as Andy wobbled
around.

“
Well
this time I’ll put you
down!”

Tony
stepped towards him. Believing him to
be defenseless he tried to punch Andy with his entire two hundred
pounds, but at the last second Andy dodged one step to the side and
moved in, striking Tony hard with his keyed fist. Striking Tony’s
cheek and dragging it downwards, the key tore down Tony’s face like
a zipper on jeans, getting lodged there temporarily. He let the key
go and staggered backwards, allowing the bully to back off reeling
in pain. Andy limped back towards the parked cars while spitting
blood from his bitten tongue. Tony’s friends watched in shock as he
pulled the key from his cheek and threw it to the ground, blood
spurting out profusely. The sudden sight of Andy standing before
him enraged him like it never had before. What started out as a
simple scrap was now so much more. Andy had raised the stakes. With
a momentous roar Tony charged like a bull, thrusting a big shoulder
into the older man’s gut and bringing him down. Now on top, he
landed strike after strike to his face while the blood from Tony’s
face splashed all over Andy’s. It was only after the twelfth or
thirteenth punch that Tony’s friends managed to haul him off. It
took some time for Tony to get to a level could calm that he could
finally feel the pain in his face but when he did
he felt
it
.
Screaming, lashing out, all the while holding his cheek as tight as
he could Tony yelled every profanity you could imagine as his hand
turned crimson.