FicWad

“Where is he? Where’d he go? What have they done with him?” Gerard was frantic. He’d started to pace the room, moving from one corner to the other, one machine to the other. “Is he dead? Is that why they took him?”

I wasn’t sure myself what had happened to him, as Gerard walked back and forth throughout the disinfectant covered cell I went to the nurse’s reception desk. Although it was completely deserted at first, within a minute or two a young, practically adolescent, nurse with an attitude appeared behind the desk carrying a bunch of files and the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Can you tell me what happened to a patient called Frank Iero?” I put on a sweet-as-sugar voice, hoping that a little flirting might get me somewhere.

“I could tell you a lot of things. Like, for example, the number of patients I have under my charge, or the number of bed pans I’ve had to change, or how about the number of enema’s I’ve had to give today. But no, I’m sorry, I can’t tell you where Frank Iero is or what happened. Apologies, Sir” She hissed at me.

“So … Uh … Busy day?” I chuckle nervously. There was no reply. She simply left, giving me the stink eye until I was out of view. I put it down to a late shift and busied myself with the computer behind the desk, well how else was I meant to find out?
I’d found out, thanks to our systems, that Frank had been taken away to the operating theatre. His systems had completely failed, he had a brain haemorrhage and they’d whisked him away. The biggest shock in all of this, an I know I’m being cynical, but the biggest shock was how quickly they’d updated the systems. Usually it took 2-3 years, ok, so it didn’t take that long, but honestly, it did take a while.

It didn’t take long for Gerard to realise that I was trying to find out information; he burst out of the room speaking nonsense that was incomprehensible. Signalling for him to calm down, he took a deep breath and started again.

“Where is he? Where have they taken him?” He exhaled, waiting patiently for my next words.

“Right, I’m not exactly sure about the finer details but he’s been taken to theatre for an operation” I admit I kept some details back, I probably should have told him, but I’d rather not see the other Frank right now.

“Something went wrong? How could something go wrong? All he did was lie there! Are you trying to tell me he’s been doing something strenuous? Jesus Fucking Christ” He bellowed.

“No, not necessarily, as I said, I’m not sure of the final details” Oh my God, I’m telling him what he wants to hear. Don’t I have an obligation to tell him the truth? The whole truth? And nothing but the truth? Oh wait, that’s a legal thing. Good job I’m a doctor.

We sat in Frank’s room for two hours waiting for them to bring back his body; I mean, bring him back. Ok, so I didn’t think that Frank had much of a chance. I didn’t really imagine myself sipping lattes with him while joking about the way Gerard had portrayed him. I thought he was, as we say in the medical profession, a no-hoper. I guess thinking positive was the best option when we knew nothing about the situation, I tried to comfort Gerard, but obviously there was going to be no consolation except for Frank being brought back alive and well. Unlikely.

“Do you want some coffee,” Gerard asked, “I don’t mind going to get some”

Realizing that sitting around, waiting was doing neither of us any good. I decided to bail on him. That’s right, I bailed on him. I told him that I had clients to see, I said that they’d be worried about him. I know I shouldn’t have, and on reflection, I might not do it again but the boredom was doing something funny to me.

“Gee, I’m going to take you back to your ward. But I’ll get someone to notify you immediately when we get some news” Anxious as he was, he took this well. I’m sure that sitting in Frank’s empty room made him imagine all kinds of horrors that he was desperate to keep from happening.

“Sure” He nodded, allowing me to place a hand on his back and lead him down the ward. He wasn’t quite as talkative on his return to the psych ward; he was deep in his own thoughts. He refused to look me in the eye, I’m sure he’d been crying. There were red, blotchy, rings around his eyes that he was trying to hide. We arrived at his room in almost no time at all, with neither of us talking, there were no distractions along the way.

“Just tell me,” His eyes shut as his voice lowered, “Either way.”

Sighing, I slumped into my seat. I placed both hands over my eyes and rubbed them gently. It had been a stressful afternoon, sitting and waiting is worse when you don’t know why you have to sit down killing time. As I’d walked to my office, Beth had been waiting to tell me that Pete would be visiting with a new patient he wanted me to diagnose.

A knock on the door was swiftly followed by Pete barging in with another man that must have stood, at least, at six feet tall. He had a nose that could’ve been a Jewish nose, but probably wasn’t and also had deep brown eyes. In some ways, he reminded me of my friend Joe. He had an afro that was kind of limp, but still very curly. He had thick lips and a chunky, muscular, figure. I was taken aback, at first, thinking he could be dangerous but then, he burst into a fit of giggles which completely killed the first impression I had of his.

Ray was stood in the doorway, head bent double, he’d apparently found or heard something very funny. I was about to ask him what the joke was, but Pete grabbed my attention. Once again, he used his hands to signal that my focus was due on him, but this time he didn’t wink. He clicked his fingers and that was it, I’d have to wait until he was done before I could talk to Ray.

“Pat, this is Ray Toro,” Pete put on his most serious ‘I’m the professional’ face, “It’s a pretty simple case, I’m sure even you could manage it”


“Fine,” I was feeling, only ever so slightly, put out, “If you’d care to give me an hour with Ray, I’d be happy to have him as my patient. So … Would you mind?”

“Uh … Not at all” He glared, followed by a swift exit.

“So, Ray, what seems to be the problem?” I acquire a strange, cheerful, disposition. There was something about Ray that made me smile; it was probably something to do with his condition. Within minutes I realised what Pete meant, Ray’s condition was easy to diagnose, and even I was competent enough to figure it out.

Ray had a jolly, almost jovial, temperament. His condition didn’t seem to get him down, but then again I might be wrong, I’d only met him a few minutes ago. It was easy to diagnose Ray with tourettes because he couldn’t stop himself from bursting out into fits of laughter. We’d only managed a few sentences between us, all along the lines of an introduction, within the first ten minutes he’d been in my office.

“Hi … I’m …” The first interruption, again Ray was left clutching his stomach and seemed to be in pain. He howled and roared with laughter, at one point, Beth peeped her head around the small rectangular window that was in my door to check that we were both alright, “I’m Ray”.

“Very pleased to meet you Ray,” I waited until he’d stopped laughing; he wiped tears away for his eyes and chuckled slightly as I introduced myself, “I’m Dr Patrick Stump, call me Patrick.”

“My doctor,” He stifled a giggle, “Told me … Told me that … I should see a psychiatrist. Because of the tourettes.”

“So you’ve already been diagnosed?” I was confused; I was under the impression that I had to diagnose him myself. Being completely honest, I have yet to diagnose a patient; Pete hasn’t quite trusted me with that luxury yet. All I had to do was treat them at the moment, and I wasn’t that good at that.

“Yeah, I thought you knew” A somewhat serious matter, but it caused him to nearly wet himself with laughter. His cheeks turned red and he couldn’t breathe for laughing so hard.

“Ok, take a seat” I was resentful for not being able to diagnose him myself, but I’d do my best for him. I should be more understanding, but truthfully, I wish he’d stop laughing.

“What … Can … You … Do … To … Help … Me?” He chuckled.

“I have to assess you properly first. Ask a few questions, find out some of your history, run a few tests. You know, the usual” I couldn’t help what happened next. It was a completely autonomic reaction; it was uncontrolled and entirely involuntary. I felt a smile creep into the corner of my mouth.


My smile became a small snigger, which Ray picked up on. We chimed out in unison, as Ray twittered my laughter grew. I began to howl with laughter, I couldn’t stop, Ray was no different. Feeling that undeniably good pain in my lower stomach, my eyes began to water and my cheeks became rosy. I seized my front, trying not to piss myself in front of a new client.

Leaving the office, allowing Ray to be confused and amused in equal proportions, I hobbled over to Beth’s desk. Leaning over it, I howled in her face. She asked what I’d found so funny, I couldn’t talk for laughing so much. At first she was baffled, but then to my delight, she started to laugh as well. Shuffling over to stand next to her, I clutched onto her shoulder, and pointed towards Ray who had appeared in the door.

The three of us stood, circle-like, around the desk. Beth and I, after a few minutes, calmed down but Ray was still going strong. We had attracted a lot of attention, negative attention, from staff and patients alike and so I told Ray to go back into my room. I asked him, kindly, to wait for me. An idea, a rather odd idea, had struck me in the past few minutes.

“Beth, would you do me a favour?” I enquired courteously.

“Um … It depends, what kind of favour?” I noticed that she’d lost her stutter and if I didn’t know any better (Which I probably didn’t), I’d have thought she was flirting.

“Will you help me with some filing after work tonight?” I grin hopelessly.

She paused as if she were considering it and then broke into a smile. Reservedly, she nodded her head and left me to stare into the absent space where she, and her perfectly proportioned body, once stood. She was quite short, which is lucky because so am I, and was able to look me in the eye. Her eyes were a dazzling shade of blue and sat well under flawlessly sculpted eyebrows. Her hair hung in a lose bob, she had a knack for styling it, there were little spikes dotted all over the cut which were impeccably placed.

She was, in a word, elegant but not in a conventional way. She didn’t dress as if she belonged on a cat walk, if anything; she dressed similarly to a librarian. That was until a few weeks ago anyway, since then, she’s put in a bit more effort. I was in my office when I heard the commotion coming from outside, an angry patient was shouting the odds and calling her every name under the sun “Frumpy” was one of the things he called her.

Since that incident, as I said, she’s made more of an attempt to look good. That beige cardigan, which sort of looked like something my nana used to wear, disappeared and was replaced by a new, smart and sparkly cardigan which looked a lot better on her. In fact, her entire wardrobe has changed since that day.

She still sounded rather timid when she called through on the intercom system, but it only added to her charm. Thinking about Beth ringing through reminded me that I’d have to tell my wife I was working late. I’m sure she’d assume that I was having an affair, which made me think. Why did I ask Beth to stay on after work? Did I want an affair? I don’t think I do. Oh well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to see where this goes, right?