FicWad

Bob arrived at my office at about two o’clock, Pete got there at about quarter past. I’d just about managed to get him to talk to me, and was in the middle of explaining the procedures when Dr Pete burst in. Bob retreated into himself again, becoming airy and flaky once again. He would not look at anyone, and seemed to drift around my office like he did the day we first met.

‘So, Bob, how’s the afterlife?’ Pete joked, showing complete disregard for his feelings, his condition and any of the work I’ve put in over the past few months. It made me irksome whenever he was around; I had to walk on egg shells because I hadn’t really worked out how far I could push him before he snapped. I didn’t think he was one of those that would shout and scream, no, he’d bring you down in different way. He’s an excellent psychiatrist, the articles and awards tell you that, I think he’d pick people’s weaknesses and highlight them or make you realise just how bad those weaknesses really are.

Surprisingly, Bob didn’t answer. He continued to meander about my room, glowering at Pete every once in a while but not really looking at anything. Bob was in one of those trances that he sometimes get into, his pupils had dilated as if he was about to have a seizure. It’d be a mild one, but still a seizure.

‘Bob, we’ll put little electrodes on both side of your head and one at the back or front. It’ll hurt but it’ll only be for about a minute each time.’ I grimaced, it sounded like something they would have done in a German or Japanese torture camp.

The three of us left the office and made our way towards the elevator. I pressed the arrow that pointed up and as the doors opened, I flipped my body around to press button number 5 on the inside of the door. The elevator music played along with the awkward silence and made it up to be worse than it was; it was almost time for somebody to start humming along when the door opened. Stood in the elevator doorway was a nurse, or rather, a very feminine male nurse. A murse.

‘Hi, my name is Nurse Hurley, I’ll be helping with the procedure, it’s not often we use the machines but don’t worry I’m sure it’s so good it’ll amaze and shock you’ He boomed at the sound of his own punchline.

‘Funny …’ I smirked, not really wanting to indulge the mindless murse.

‘Right, Nurse Hurley, how long before we can get this started?’ Pete asked, taking over once again. Nurse Hurley clicked his fingers and beckoned us forth in an ‘Alonsi’ sort of motion. We followed, but I’m sure that Pete was a bit agitated that someone had taken over, when he was clearly ‘in charge’.

‘Not long, we’ll just hook Bob up and then we’ll start,’ A grim look struck Bob’s face, nerves were still something he suffered with even though he thought himself to be dead, ‘Bob don’t worry, you’re in good hands’

Nurse Hurley was catapulting full steam ahead to the end of the corridor, hopping gleefully into the treatment room. Everything looked so technical; there was that chair in the middle where Bob was to sit, the control panel near the back of the door, the wires scattered and the little electrodes that we were going to place on either side of Bob’s cranium.

‘Right … Shall we start?’ Not really waiting for a reply from anyone, the nurse grabbed hold of Mr Bryar’s arm and led him towards the chair, without any fuss Bob obliged and, with heavy and bated breath, allowed the little pieces of wire to be placed on his head. One on the left, one on the right and one at the back. It didn’t seem right; I could have sworn that I had read something about only one electrode to begin with. Three? He’d put three onto Bob and I was not entirely certain that he should have done that.

‘Uh, Andy?’ I tried to grab his attention, but no, that wasn’t really possible. He was waltzing around this lab, dancing to an ongoing version of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’ that was playing in his mind. He looked like a madman, the nervous jolt that sometimes lurked into my stomach appeared, I was anxious for Bob and his welfare. Despite my concerns, I made no statement or any form of protest. I let it happen, and so did Pete.

‘Patrick?’ Bob whimpered, ‘Is it going to hurt?’

‘I thought dead people couldn’t feel pain …’ Pete slyly commented, making sure that it was only me that could hear. There was a gross misjudgement in the way Pete handled patients, I wasn’t really sure how he had made it to the top of two departments, he had no tact and reminded me of a drunk frat boy picking on the weedy nerd. You know that cliché, the one with the worker on the lower end of the proverbial food chain? You know how he hates his boss, yeah, well, that’s me. I could not stand Dr Pete Wentz, the arrogant bastard.

‘Bob, I think it will. Sorry … I’m so sorry. There’s nothing else, I need to help you. This is the only way …’ Andy called to us, telling us to stand aside. We moved behind the screen, I could feel vomit beginning to make its way back up to my throat. I’d never seen this procedure before, and was really hoping that I’d never have to. I prayed, hoping that something in the machinery would fail. I hoped that they wouldn’t be able to shock him.

‘Ready … Three … Two … One …’ Nurse Hurley counted down, and started to press buttons. As he hit number one, we all held our breath. Bob did not do the same for long, his body had begun to squirm, the wriggling frame of the wasted man shook any form of decisiveness out of me. I stood and watched. He was helpless, strapped to the chair but trying so much to escape it.

‘Help me … It’s too much … I … Fuck … HELP ME PATRICK!’ Bob was screaming for some sort of peace, the electrodes were pushing currents into his body at an unbearable rate. His torso convulsed, I could tell when each wave of electricity hit him. He begged us to stop, but we didn’t. There was only one way to describe what was happening here, it was basically an electric chair.

‘Pete, stop it. It’s too strong. Stop it now,’ I warned Pete, forcing the command onto him, ‘Stop this.’

‘How is he meant to get better … If you won’t let us help him, Patrick?’ Pete questioned, not with concern, no … With malice. To him, this was not an attempt at curing Bob. Making him feel better, allowing him to see the world for what it is. Life, not death. This was an experiment to Pete, a statistic on some spreadsheet. A triumph his team had come up with under his guidance, he was possessed with the idea of another award or promotion.
‘You’re electrocuting him. Not a little shock, it’s only meant to last ten seconds on the first treatment. You’ve been doing it for over a minute. Switch. The. Fucking. Machines. Off.’ I slammed my fist down onto the table that was holding up the screen that at this moment was our protection.

‘Patrick, why won’t you help me?’ Bob wailed in the background, interrupting the harsh argument that was about to develop. He was writhing underneath the electrodes, the pain never becoming numb or never becoming a background sensation. It was always at the forefront of his feelings, always there, not backing down.

‘Help him, Pete, stop the machines’ Pete simply shrugged, ignoring my requests and turning away. Being ignored always made me angry, it made my face redden as the blood pumped around my body quicker than before, my fists clenched and I really had to try to stop myself from punching Pete.

So what did I do? Shout some more? No. Switch the machines off myself? No. Risk my life to pull him away from the electrodes? No, that might have killed him. So, what did I do? Nothing, well, almost nothing. I stayed, watching Bob contract under the weight of the electricity. His face turned, he was looking at me, and he couldn’t talk. He was in agony and couldn’t quite manage words of pleas anymore. That’s when I left.

Turning on my heel, ignoring the grunts Bob was making, I left. I’m not proud of what I’d done, but I couldn’t stay with nothing to do. I left the room quickly, but, finding myself outside, I didn’t know where to go. I guess that’s why I started running, through corridors, down the stairs, past people pushing beds to theatre, anywhere my feet decided.

The first tears I’d spent in years had begun to tumble from my eyes, it was humiliating and that’s why I kept running. Nobody tried to stop me; it wasn’t an unusual sight, a doctor running through hospital corridors. It’s perfectly normal to see doctors trying to get to some emergency. But I wasn’t trying to get to some emergency; I was trying to get away from one.

I was only running, not looking where I was going, just running. That’s when I collided into something that squeaked, it was small and dainty and I had just flattened it. Beth was completely winded, I’d made both of us fall, all I could say was sorry and after helping her up, I made for my office.

Beth followed close behind, sensing that I was upset. She kept asking what was wrong but I couldn’t tell her. I was too ashamed to tell her what I’d just done, especially because she had taken so much of an interest in Bob. I know that she’d look at me with a disapproving girn, and I’d deserve it. I didn’t do enough for Bob; I didn’t want to tell her about that.

‘I’m fine Beth, thanks for asking’ I lied, hoping to avoid the subject that was still stinging like vinegar on a paper cut. I closed the door on Beth, hoping not to be too rude. I went to my desk and did what any sane person would’ve done in my place; I buried my head in my arms and ignored the world. So much so that I didn’t hear Beth come back in and only knew of her presence when she placed her arms around my shoulders and told me not to be sad.