Asylum Page 8

  "Give me the towel," he says, reaching out to take it, "and answer the question."

  "I've never seen a ghost," I say, to shut him up.

  "Liar," he says as he dries himself. "I can see it in your eyes. You've seen one, and you'll see another one while you're here. Everyone does, even them that don't admit it."

  I'm about to argue with him, when the door opens and a doctor walks in. Not just any doctor, either; it's the doctor, the handsome one I spotted earlier. "Hello, Nurse Winter," he says, with a voice that has a hint of an Irish accent. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. My name's Andrew Wylde."

  We shake hands. It's the first time we touch, but if I get my way, it won't be the last time. I'm already finding it hard to keep from imagining what he's like in bed.

  "Kirsten Winter," I say, trying to keep my cool. Men don't like it if you're too obvious. I have to play it smart, and take things slow. "Pleased to meet you."

  "The pleasure's all mine," he says. He's quite young, probably only a few years older than me, but he has a kind of old-world charm that's rather refreshing and - if I'm honest - very appealing. "Dr. Campbell told me I should introduce myself to you at the earliest possible opportunity," he continues, "and now I can see why."

  Over by the bath, Rolf coughs loudly. "I've almost finished drying myself," he says. "Only my asshole to go." He reaches behind his back with the towel, makes a sharp jerking motion, and then throws the towel onto the floor. "There," he says, with a satisfied grin on his face. "All done."

  "Good job, Rolf," says Andrew, walking over to him. "It's you I came to see, actually. I wanted to see how you're doing on your new pills."

  "I'm in a bad mood all the time," Rolf says, "and I keep farting."

  "So there's been a slight improvement?" Andrew asks, checking Rolf's chest with his stethoscope.

  "A slight one," Rolf says, nodding. "But the pills've done something rotten to my dick. This fine young nurse was giving me a good wash, and I didn't even get hard."

  "Well," says Andrew, smiling as if he's embarrassed, "I'm sure you'll do better next time."

  Rolf sighs as I help him get dressed. "It's coming to something when a man can't even show his appreciation for a fine lady."

  I try to avoid looking toward Andrew, because I'm quite certain that I've started to blush.

  "There are other ways to appreciate a lady," Andrew says, standing behind me. "Asking her out to dinner, for example, would probably do the job."

  I pull Rolf's pajama trousers up.

  "Nurse," Rolf says, "I think the doctor might have just asked you on a date."

  "Don't be silly," I say, feeling my face burn bright red. It's clear that Rolf knows exactly what he's doing, and he's deliberately trying to put me in an awkward position. I don't like it, and I can only hope that Andrew is aware of Rolf's idiosyncrasies.

  "Come off it, Rolf," Andrew says, walking over to the door, "since when do you give us doctors and nurses time to socialize. I'm afraid we spend every waking minute attending to your needs." He pauses. "However, Nurse Winter, I would like to speak to you when you have a moment. In a professional capacity, of course. I need to run some ideas past you concerning some special treatment that I'd like to try on a few of the patients."

  "Of course," I say, wishing to damnation that he'd not asked me, but knowing full well that it's my duty to oblige. "I'll come to your office as soon as my shift ends in about half an hour."

  "Excellent," he replies, heading out of the room.

  "He likes you," Rolf says.

  "He sees me as a colleague," I say, finishing dressing the old man. "There. All ready for bed. I hope you'll be able to sleep with all these fanciful ideas floating around in your head. Ghosts, romances..."

  He laughs. "You sound like the girls from when I was young."

  "I'll take that as a compliment," I say, leading him over to the door.

  "Don't!" he says, stopping and turning to me. "It's a long time since I was young. A girl like you ought to be modern, not old-fashioned. You've got to get with the times. Take a look about. You don't wanna be stuck in a place like Lakehurst. Jesus Christ, when I think about the time you could be having in a place like New York."

  "I'm quite happy here," I say as we head out into the corridor. All I can really think about is how much I need to get Rolf to bed. I'm not looking forward to my meeting with Andrew later, so I'd quite like to have a few moments alone to think between the end of my work with Rolf and the end of my shift. Unfortunately, Rolf seems like the kind of patient who requires near-constant levels of attention.

  Eventually, however, I get him to bed, and although he jabbers away as I'm leaving the room, I finally find myself out in the corridor, surrounded by the relative silence of the hospital. I look at my watch and see that it's 22:02, which means I've finally finished my first shift at Lakehurst. I relax for a moment, feeling that I've achieved something rather wonderful, but then I tense again as I start preparing mentally for my meeting with Andrew. Thanks to Rolf, there's already some considerable awkwardness between us. I was wrong to start thinking that I could get Andrew into bed; I need to keep my old weaknesses down, and focus on being professional. All I want to do is slip through Lakehurst unnoticed, without drawing any attention to myself. Somehow, I feel I'm unlikely to get my wish.

  Dr. Lava

  Today.

  Looking through Annie Radford's case notes, it's quite clear that she's an exceptional patient in a number of regards. Obviously there's the hoopla and hysteria of her back-story, with the national media having gone out of its way to present her as some kind of monster. But then there's her history since she arrived at Lakehurst: according to the notes, she's been a rather troublesome patient who has required a number of changes to her regimen. I can barely keep track of all the notes and changes affixed to her care sheets, almost as if someone has been deliberately turning the record of Annie's treatment into an indecipherable maze. It's quite clear that I shall only be able to get a clear picture of the girl's condition by speaking to her myself.

  At exactly 2pm, there's a knock at my office door. Clearly Nurse Winter is keen to emphasize her efficiency. It's good that she wants to make a good impression, though she'll have to demonstrate more than mere punctuality if she's to win me over. I didn't come to Lakehurst to make friends; I came to continue my work in a suitable environment.

  "Come in!" I call out.

  The door opens and Nurse Winter leads Annie into my office. I'm immediately struck by how frail and awkward Annie seems to be. Shuffling along, she looks extremely ill and her eyes dart around, scanning the room as if she's scared of what she might find. Her skin looks almost yellow, and her hair is noticeably frayed. All in all, this is clearly a girl who is very sick in both the physical and emotional senses.

  "Annie, I believe," I say, standing up and walking over to greet her. I reach out a hand for her to shake. She obliges, but her skin is cold to the touch and her handshake lacks any kind of firmness.

  "Annie doesn't say much," Nurse Winter explains, "but she's very attentive. You can be certain that she's listening, even if she avoids eye contact and remains quiet."

  "Was she like this when she arrived?" I ask. I feel bad for talking about Annie instead of to her, but I'm shocked by her condition and I'm worried that her health is deteriorating.

  "Annie has been with us for a month now," Nurse Winter says, "and she has improved in many ways. She has responded well to the treatment she's received, and we're now working to increase her general well-being."

  "Fine," I say, although I feel Nurse Winter used a lot of words to say absolutely nothing useful. "I think Annie and I will be okay here, and I'm sure your other duties are calling."

  Nurse Winter stares at me for a moment. "I have experience with Annie," she says, "and -"

  "I think I have more than enough experience with patients," I say firmly. "As I'm sure you're aware, Nurse Winter, one of my most influential papers was on the subject of
how patients react differently with different care providers. I'd very much like some time alone with Annie, if you don't mind."

  There's a pause before Nurse Winter flashes a fake smile. "As you wish, Doctor," she says. "I'm sure you'll find Annie to be a most fascinating patient."

  "I'm sure I will," I say as Nurse Winter withdraws from the room, leaving me standing in front of Annie. "Hello Annie," I say, looking down at her face. She's carefully avoiding looking at me; instead, she's looking down at her feet. "Annie, would you like to come and sit down?" I ask, gesturing toward the chair by my desk.

  She shakes her head, still not looking at me.

  "Well I'd very much like it if you'd sit down," I continue, making sure to sound friendly and understanding. "Would you do it for me?"

  She pauses, and then she shuffles over to the chair and sits down. It's strange, but she seems almost completely stupefied, as if she can't interact with me at all. She's certainly a fascinating individual, and getting to the bottom of her problems will be a fascinating, though possibly painstaking, process. I walk around to the other side of my desk and sit down, but I must admit that I'm not entirely sure how I should begin my conversation with Annie.

  "I've read a lot about you," I say eventually, hoping that my honesty might at least encourage her to look up at me. "We doctors are supposed to pretend that we have no prior knowledge of our patients, but I'm not interested in that kind of theatrical pretense. I'm sure you know very well that you're quite a famous young woman, so we might as well cut to the chase. In fact, you're one of the primary reasons that I took up this position. I find you quite fascinating."

  Nothing. No response at all.

  "Annie," I say, deciding to try another approach, "I'd like you to acknowledge me. I'm sure you have very good reasons for not wanting to look at me, and for not wanting to say anything, but I'd like you to just give me some kind of sign that you can at least hear what I'm saying. Would that be okay?" I wait. "I can assure you, I'm nothing like the other doctors here. If you're worried, or scared, then you really can talk to me about anything. For example, if you have certain negative feelings regarding Nurse Winter, perhaps you'd like to talk to me instead?"

  Still nothing. I was expecting that the mention of Nurse Winter would elicit at least a flicker of recognition.

  "Okay," I say, standing up and walking around the desk until I'm standing directly behind Annie. I sigh, looking down at the top of her head. "Let's try another approach," I say. Suddenly I grab her by the neck and pull her off the chair. As she lands on the floor, I kick her hard in the stomach before hauling her up and throwing her against the wall. She slams into the plaster with such force that she bounces back and crunches down onto the floor, her head making a sickening thudding sound as she lands. "How about now, Annie?" I ask, making sure that my voice still sounds calm. "Would you like to talk to me now, you little fucking whore?"

  I walk around her. She's still not acknowledging me, although she's trying to get to her feet, so I guess I'm getting at least some kind of response.

  "Answer me!" I shout, kicking her in the back and sending her crumbling back down onto the floor.

  The room falls silent as she slowly tries to get up again. This time, I let her get to her feet. She still doesn't look at me; instead, her eyes search the room, finally finding the door. She turns and shuffles away, as if she expects me to just let her walk out of here.

  "Where are you going, Annie?" I ask.

  She keeps moving, trying desperately to complete her slow escape.

  "Stop!" I say firmly. "Get your filthy ass back here."

  She stops. It's incredible, but she actually obeys my order.

  "Where do you think you're going, Annie?" I ask, walking over to her. I lean in close to her face. "You can't get away from me. You can't out-run me. All the doors and windows are locked. There's no way you can avoid me, so you'd better start talking to me. If you cross me even one more time, I swear I'll make you regret it, do you understand?"

  She stares down at her feet. I want so dearly to know what's going through her mind, but she won't let me in. I want to help her, to set her free from the constraints she has created for herself, but it's going to be hard finding a starting point.

  "You're going to speak to me now, Annie," I say calmly. "Begin."

  Nothing. She still stares down at her feet.

  "Okay," I say, sighing. "Don't say I didn't warn you." I put an arm around her neck and drag her back over to my desk, slamming her down and pulling a pair of pliers from my pocket. Forcing her into position, I put my elbow on her chest and use my free hand to force her mouth open. I push the pliers in and tighten them around one of her upper cuspid teeth. Once I'm sure I've got a good grip, I twist the pliers and pull the tooth out of her mouth. She gasps, and finally her eyes lock onto mine. With blood pouring from the gap, she stares up at me until I push her off the desk and back down to the floor. I drop the tooth next to her.

  Once again, the room falls silent. To her credit, Annie isn't screaming or crying. She seems to be staring at the tooth now, but I feel quite certain that the pain must be immense and she must surely be feeling more alert.

  "I'm going to send you back to your room now," I say, "but I'll be calling for you again tomorrow. I hope very much that by then, you've decided that you're going to talk to me." I sit back down in my chair. "I'm sure you can guess the consequences if you remain silent." I hit the intercom button. "Send Nurse Winter back to pick up the patient," I say.

  As Annie struggles to her feet, the door opens and Nurse Winter enters. She stops as she sees the blood pouring from Annie's mouth, and I can tell that I've made quite an impression.

  "Take her back to her room, and don't disturb me again today," I say, looking down at my papers. "And don't worry about her mouth. She doesn't need any medical attention for the missing tooth. In fact, I'll be quite angry if I discover that anyone has attended to her. Is that understood?"

  "Absolutely," Nurse Winter says, ushering Annie out of the room.

  As the door is closed, leaving me alone again, I sit back in my chair and smile. I'm fairly certain that my first day is going rather well: I've shown Annie Radford that I'm not going to take her crap, and I've undoubtedly made an impression on Nurse Winter. Hopefully my reputation is now cemented and I can get on with my work without having to worry about Nurse Winter, or anyone else, getting in my way. But if I do need to make any more shows of power, I will happily do so. After all, there's a lot more at stake here than just the lives of a few doctors, nurses and patients. My work has the power to change the world, and I will not allow anyone to stand in my way.

  Nurse Winter

  1999.

  I knock tentatively on Andrew's office door. It's 22:15, I'm tired at the end of my first day on duty, and I'd rather be anywhere else. Then again, my introduction to Andrew was so unusual and embarrassing that perhaps it's better if I face the situation head-on and banish any demons before they have time to settle. Even if I'm only here for a year or two, I will undoubtedly have to work with Andrew on a number of occasions and therefore it would help if I can establish a cordial and professional relationship with him. Better to be brave now, than to run away and face further trouble later.

  "Come in," Andrew calls out.

  I step into his office, closing the door carefully behind myself. "You wanted to see me?" I say.

  "Yes," he replies. "Please take a seat. Do you mind if I just finish writing this report? It'll only take a moment."

  "Of course," I say, sitting in the chair in front of his desk. There's silence for a couple of minutes, as he fills in some boxes on what looks to be a psychiatric assessment form for one of the patients. "There," he says, signing the form at the bottom before slipping it into the Out tray on his desk. "I hope you don't think I'm rude, but I like to finish what I started. It helps prevent mistakes."

  "I completely understand," I say, still wondering why he's invited me to see him.

  "Ho
w was your first day?" he asks, smiling. "Did Lakehurst meet your expectations?"

  I nod. "The patients seem very approachable," I say. "There were no particular problems. Everyone's in bed now. It seems that the system works very well."

  "Dr. Campbell runs a tight ship," Andrew says. "He's to be admired for that. His methods might not be perfect, but the old coot certainly knows how to run a hospital."

  "Absolutely," I say, wondering when the small-talk phase of our conversation will be over. I'm tired, and I want to get to bed. I have to be up at 7am for an 8am start, and all I want to do right now is sink into bed and sleep.

  "Of course, he doesn't know everything," Andrew continues, with a certain twinkle in his eye. "He has his methods, I have mine, and sometimes it's best if we each keep out of the other's way. And that's where it can get complicated, because I find that at Lakehurst there are staff who are his kind of staff, and there staff who are my kind of staff. Dr. Campbell usually tries to get people onboard by being nice to them, whereas I prefer to be a little more blunt." He pauses. "Dr. Campbell bases his work on established techniques. The past. I base my work on new ideas. Nothing insane or experimental, but certainly different from convention."

  I feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to stand up. "I'm not sure -"

  "Of course you're not," he says, interrupting me. "The thing is, Nurse Winter... Kirsten... there are certain unfortunate connotations involved whenever one embarks upon... direct research. There have been instances in the past, earlier in the twentieth century, that have shown mankind to be capable of great evil, all in the name of science. And when we look at photographs of the horrible things that took place, it's very easy for us to conclude that no-one should ever experiment on a living subject again." He's staring at me with a very determined look in his eyes, as if he's scanning every inch of my face to see if I understand what he's saying. "Live experiments are sometimes the only solution," he says, and then he laughs a little. "There I go again. That word 'solution' is probably best left alone, isn't it? I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."