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Six

The examination room was chilly, but it was all right, I had my slippers on. They asked me to not wear sneakers or anything, since this was a medical thing. Clock number two had gone off that morning, but instead of breakfast it told me to go see Doctors Vandrell and Lensher for my appointment. Vandrell smiled at me when I arrived on time, pleased I suppose that I remembered and was punctual. That made me smile. Thinking that he was pleased made everything a bit easier. They were just looking out for me, and like they said, they wanted to recharge my clock. That sounded good to me.

“Hi John,” Lensher said, gesturing me towards an exam table, “do you want me to explain what we’re going to do?” I nodded, sitting on the table and giving Doctor Vandrell a small hello wave.

“That would be great, I like to know what’s going on. It makes everything so much easier, don’t you think?” Vandrell nodded and Lensher just smiled at me, reaching out to pat my shoulder.

“Yes, yes exactly. Why don’t you lie down here,” he asked, his hand still on my shoulder, friendly and calm, “and Doctor Vandrell will start preparing you while I explain.” I lay back on the table, my arms at my sides and shrugged a bit. I always felt a bit funny lying like that, but most times doctors don’t like it when you lay on the exam table with your arms dangling. I guess it gives everything the feeling of play, and lots of doctors take themselves very seriously.

“John, can you take off your shirt for me?” I nodded at Vandrell and half sat up again to take my shirt off, handing it to him. I was happy to see that he took it and folded it for me, placing it on a chair behind him. That was really nice of him. Some doctors, before I came to McGee’s, would just toss your clothes on the chair. I always felt it told me a lot about how they would treat me. The doctors here, though, were really good about that sort of thing. They liked to, like Doctor West always told me, put you at ease.

“Now, Doctor Vandrell is going to put something on your chest to monitor your heart rate. We don’t want you getting hurt during this, do we?” I shook my head and watched the little contact sticky get pressed down. “To make sure you aren’t scared either, we don’t want you scared or hurt, we’re also going to give you an I.V., just something to make you sleep. You can sleep this whole thing away.”

As Lensher talked, Vandrell acted out his words. It made me want to laugh and distracted me so that I didn’t even feel the I.V. go in my arm. Then Vandrell asked me to count backwards from twenty. I grinned at him and started to count.

“Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen. Sixteen.” As I counted I started to feel like I was drifting away. Like a rocking boat on the water, maybe. It reminded me of a time I went fishing with my dad when I was a kid, and the sun was bright and happy and we didn’t catch anything but the boat swayed constantly and made me all sleepy, made me feel like I could coast forever. It felt just like that time. My eyelids grew heavy and I stopped really hearing or noticing either doctor.

*****

A flash of light. A sharp sudden crack, deep in my brain. Something came loose and ran away from me. I was being chased. The sky was floating away. The ground drifted by, except there was no ground. I was giving chase.
Teeth. Eyes. Fear. Panic. Pain.

Even as I felt and thought and struggled, the memory of it slid away like a snake. The well was deep, the water warm. I sank.

Down.

Down.

Up.

*****

I woke up and felt like I had been beaten. My jaw ached and my temples felt hot. My arms and legs and back all burned, the muscles sore, and I winced. The crinkling of my face made me notice the plastic mask over my mouth and nose. I opened my eyes, confused and frightened and saw Doctor Vandrell standing near me, moving to help me sit up slowly even as I came awake.

“What… did I make the appointment?” I couldn’t remember it clearly. I had gone out for my smoke and then gone back to my room. My second clock had buzzed at me to remind me to go to the examination room and then things went blurry, like static on a television set. Vandrell nodded at me and gave me a soft smile. He didn’t look concerned for me, he looked relaxed and fine, helping me to feel a little better.

“You did fine, John. That was what we call electroconvulsive therapy, and sometimes it can hurt your memory for a little while. I’m sorry for that, but it should help your clock recharge. Hopefully you’ll be able to think clearer now, hmm?” It seemed like the kind of question that wanted an answer.

“I… maybe? Ow, I dunno, I feel… really bad right now. Are you sure this helps?”

“It will, John. Here,” he handed me a cup of orange juice from a table by his elbow, “drink this and relax. You’ll be fine. When you feel up to it, I’ll walk you back to your room.” Electroconvulsive therapy contained two things I knew, electro and convulsive, and I didn’t like either. If Vandrell was really sure that it would help though, I decided to trust him.

“I think I can stand now,” I said quietly and swung my legs slowly over the side of the exam table. Doctor Vandrell helped me, keeping a hand on my shoulder. “Where’s Doctor Lensher?” I asked, looking around the room. The movement of my head made me a bit dizzy but I didn’t realize that until after my head moved.

“Doctor Lensher wasn’t in today, but he asked me to go ahead without him.” That was wrong, I was sure of it. I remembered… well it was fuzzy, but I thought I remembered Lensher there too, talking. A bewildered look crossed my face and Doctor Vandrell studied me carefully. “Are you ok, John? Do you need to sit back down?”

“No,” I shook my head, again suddenly remembering that moving my head made me dizzy, “I just thought I remembered him here.” He helped me put my shirt back on, and we walked slowly out into the hall together.

“Well like I told you, ECT can hurt your memory a little sometimes. I wouldn’t worry about it.” I nodded and we wandered back to my room, his arm on my shoulder still and the cup of orange juice still in my hand.

We passed the front desk and Sally got a small hello wave from me, but instead of smiling she glanced away from me and ignored it. She must’ve been having a bad day. I let it go. We all have bad days and you can’t hold them against a person. I’d make sure to come back later and say hello to her for longer, maybe ask if everything was all right.

Doctor Vandrell opened the door to my room for me and nodded at me, letting go of my shoulder. I set the cup of orange juice down and looked around slowly, not turning my head.

“You rest, John. I’ll have someone check in on you in a while, ok?”

“Sure, thanks, Doctor Vandrell. Hey if you see Benny maybe you could send him by? That’d make me feel better.” Vandrell looked away and shook his head, gradually coming to rest looking at me again.

“Benny Rico?”

“Yeah, Benny, you know him?”

“Benny died a day or so ago. John, you were there. Maybe we should do a few tests…”

“No, that’s… he died? How?” I sat down heavily on my bed, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. I had seen Benny not too long ago, and I knew I would’ve remembered if he had died.

“He slipped and fell on a chair, it broke and a piece of it stabbed… We shouldn’t discuss this, John. I really think I should set up some tests.” Benny slipped, when I was there? Sure, I remembered that but he just fell on his ass; he didn’t hit a chair or get stabbed or die. I was sure of it. Sure. Mostly.

“No, I remember now,” I lied to Doctor Vandrell, not really sure why I was lying other than something in me was telling me it was a good idea, “I must still just be a bit confused. I think I’ll take a nap.” Vandrell nodded at me, telling me again that he would make sure someone checked in on me in a while and left, shutting the door gently. Benny was dead? That didn’t make any sense at all, not really. I checked my clocks and curled up in bed, laying on my side and pulling my knees up to my chest, tugging the blanket up under my chin. Why would I remember it differently? I fell asleep, turning the question over in my mind.

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Crazy Little Thing is copyright Adam P. Knave.