Second That Emotion

Second That Emotion

by Latikia

Chapter 15

I was in a foul mood Sunday morning. Everyone knew it and kept their distance.

I was up early and running; on my fifth lap around the hospital I spotted Lilly sitting on the curb, huddled up and trying to pull herself deeper into her parka like a turtle disappearing into its shell. I pulled up and slowed down, coming to a stop beside her. She got to her feet and together we walked the route I normally ran.

“My husband came to see me yesterday after you left.” she began.

“He doesn’t come here very often.” I observed.

“No. He says I remind him too much of what he’s lost.”

“What he’s lost?”

“That’s what he says. He’s been fucking our next door neighbor’s wife for a month now. Her husband was sent to Saudi nearly three month ago.”

“Does he know that you know?”

“I don’t think he cares. But yes, he knows. That’s why he came yesterday. To tell me he filed for divorce.”

“Oh, Lilly…” I stopped walking and gathered her into my arms and held her tight. She clung to me like a small child and cried.

We stood there in the cold, windy, gray and bleak morning, two lost souls clinging to one another and trying to stay afloat in a sea of internal despair, afraid that if we let go one, or both, would sink beneath the surface and never come up.

“What can I do? I’ve stepped off the path again Granddad.”

‘If you stepped off, you can step back on.”

“Easy for you to say. Every time it gets harder and harder to find again.”

‘Yes, but not impossible. You know what you should be doing, but do you know why?’

“Because I can. I should, because I can.”

‘Yes. Any other answer is window dressing.’

“And what about me? What about my pain, my anger?”

‘Stop holding it. Let it go.’

“Let it go where? If I let it go I could infect everyone around me. I won’t do that.”

‘Then put it where it belongs…in the grave.’

Yeah. Right as usual Granddad.

I felt Lilly struggling in my arms. I released my arms from around her and she stumbled back, staring up at me, concern written all over her pretty, tear streaked face.

“Now you know why the Army sent me here.” I tried to smile, but I don’t think it came out quite right.

“Are you…?”

“Lilly, don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Your voice changed, when you were talking. Half the time you sounded like yourself, half like someone else.”

“I really should learn to keep my internal dialogues internal, huh? I scared a couple of Iraqi soldiers half to death doing the same thing. Well…that and reciting poetry at them for a couple of hours.”

“Don’t you go crazy on me Ike. You’re the only thing keeping me together right now.”

“Lilly, I’ll be okay. I had a tough time yesterday is all; not as bad as yours, but bad enough. Give me a little time. I’ll meet you upstairs for lunch, alright?”

She nodded and headed back inside the hospital.

I started jogging towards the back side of the hospital, where the employee parking lot was located. I went thru the more than half empty blacktop and out beyond where a small grove of trees stood. Off to the right was a long chain link fence that separated the hospital grounds from the main road and to the left was a dirt path that led into the trees.

Inside the grove was a small clearing, filled with tall grass and broken tree stumps. I stopped and began scanning the area. Just off of the center was the dying remains of a towering poplar, lightning struck years ago, but still clinging to a thread of life. I linked with the tree. I could feel the slowed movement of its sap, the once expansive highway of its body was now nothing more than a tiny cart path. No more protective bark to shield it from the elements, most eaten away by bugs and birds, no more waving branches of leaves to feed its heartwood. Trees can feel pain and what was left of this one was in terrible pain.

I poured all my emotions into the link and thru it into the dying tree. All my hate, all my anger, all my resentment and frustration, all my fear and distrust, all the uncertainty and guilt, the pain and suffering, the dying…kept shoving it, hammering it into the link and thru the tree and into the ground beneath it.

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!”

I cut the link and sank to my knees in the tall snow frosted grass.

‘Feel better now?’

“Yes…and no.”

‘And that is the way it works. You can’t hold all the pain of the world inside yourself. You just can’t and you shouldn’t try. Make room from time to time. Love will fill the empty spaces.’

“Am I crazy? Am I talking to myself, or are you really there?”

‘Maybe a little of both. Would that be such a terrible thing?’

“No. I suppose not.”

‘Then it’s time to get back on your path.’

“What about Wills’ offer?”

‘The path is the path. You can use any vehicle you like to travel it. More than one, if necessary.’

I got to my feet and walked out of the grove, leaving a burnt and smoking tree stump behind me.

I spent the rest of Sunday either in the dayroom talking or playing cards or some other game with whoever came in or sitting out in the hallway broadcasting all the good feelings I could. After my session with the tree stump it was much easier to remember the good feelings and memories I had to share. I concentrated on them and not my problems. At dinner time we pooled our money and ordered Chinese from a restaurant nearby that would deliver to the hospital. We served up a buffet for everyone on the ward, patients and staff alike. It turned out to be a very good night.

At some point prior to that Monday it should have at least crossed my mind that there existed the possibility of someone else having abilities like mine. It should have, but it never did. Why it never occurred to me I don’t know, probably pride or ego or something like that. Hubris, the Greek dramatists called it; excessive pride leading to a tragic downfall.

The small group sessions had just finished and we were getting settled in the dayroom for the resident’s meeting when Captain Rossi came in with someone new by his side.

“We have a new arrival folks. This is Peg. She’ll be staying with us for a month or so.”

Peg stood quietly next to the Captain, her head bowed, looking like the saddest, loneliest and most forgotten individual who ever lived. Not more than five feet tall and probably as thin as a rail, though that was hard to determine since she was bundled up in an oversized hospital robe. Her hair was short and brown like the color of dried dirt, it hadn’t so much been cut as hacked and strands stood out at every conceivable angle and looked something like a porcupine.

She might have been twenty five, or she might have been seventeen or eighteen, it was hard to say. But she was definitely scared and very shy. Rossi moved her in the direction of an empty chair and sat her down then motioned for me.

“Ike, Colonel DeBerg would like you to see him in his office. Margie will stand in for you today.”

I shrugged in the direction of Lilly and the others, got up off the couch and headed out and down the hall.

The door to Colonel DeBerg’s office was open, so I rapped once and walked in.

“Ah…Ike, come on in and have a seat. Shut the door, would you?”

I closed the door and took my usual seat, waiting for the Colonel to speak.

“Dr. Wills told me that you were of exceptional assistance to him on Saturday. I’m not going to ask you what you were doing, but I am concerned about how whatever it was affected you.”

I nodded. “It was stressful, in more ways than one. But it was something that needed to be done. I understand that. I realize that I’m probably one of the few people around that could have done it, but I truly wish someone else had.”

“Lilly told me about your ‘conversation’ yesterday. She’s worried about you.”

“I don’t imagine it’s very reassuring when you’re looking to someone for strength and support and they start having a talk with someone who isn’t there.”

“Is this something you’ve always done?”

I shook my head. “No. It started when I was coming out of the desert. I was wounded and in a lot of pain, short on food and water; almost ready to give up, lie down and die. I was running along in the dark one night and started having a talk with my sister. It helped keep me going. The next night I had a talk with my grandfather. The night after that with my wife and the next with my mother. Once I reached our lines I talked with all of them…I think one of the medics heard that one. I knew they weren’t really there, but talking with them helped me deal with what I was feeling, what I was thinking. Maybe there was another, better way to do it…” I shrugged and lifted then dropped my hands.

“And yesterday you needed reminding again?”

“Exactly. I was angry and frustrated, wallowing in my own pain and ready to bite the head off of anyone who looked at me sideways. Lilly risked that because she needed a friend, someone to listen to her troubles and help her cope. I had to remind myself that sometimes responsibility chooses you. But just because you don’t want it doesn’t mean it’s not yours.”

I shifted in the chair and sighed.

“Colonel, I’m not a hero and I don’t believe that I can solve everyone’s problems or save them from themselves. But the minute I set foot on the ward I started feeling responsible for those people. They made me feel responsible for them. It’s not my job and I’m sure not trained for it, but I feel it. There are times though, like yesterday, when I have to be reminded of that.”

DeBerg nodded. “Well, I’ve got one more lost lamb for your flock. Peg, the girl who just arrived? She’s a very special case, and I’d appreciate it if you could keep a close eye on her. She’s got multiple personalities. At least seven distinct ones, three of them males and two of those are aggressive and potentially violent. We’re going to start her on a regimen of drug therapy, but it will take a while to see results…if we see any at all. If you see anything that makes you think she might become violent or destructive, send for the floor nurse or for me immediately.”

“Sure. Always room for one more.”

“Thank you. It’s good to know there’s someone looking out for them. It makes my job a lot easier”

I nodded. I think that was a big part of the problem…for the staff, all of them, it was a job.

For me it was just another step along the path. Pick ‘em up, put ‘em down.

When I got back the meeting was over and everyone was filing out. But something was different. Every face I saw was a little sadder, a little more reclusive and angry. I sat down next to Lilly on the couch. Peg was still in the chair Rossi had put her in, but her body language was different somehow. I couldn’t quite tell what had changed, but her entire demeanor was a little different; more at ease and much less withdrawn. Her head was up and her eyes were locked on Lilly.

“What’s wrong Lilly? Everyone seems out of sorts.”

She shuddered and tightened up, moving away from me. I stayed still and waited.

“Everything was fine. We were talking about going bowling and Auggie started sniping at Walt. Then everyone started arguing with everyone else and…Ike it all got so ugly so fast and there was nothing I could do!” she started crying softly.

I happened to look up and saw Peg watching me, her eyes bright with excitement. I linked with her.

“What the…” I couldn’t believe what I found in her. It was like that time with Izzy at the mall when I tried linking with a large number of people all at once. The swirling morass of competing emotions was staggering. The press of conflicting feelings came down on me and I felt as if I were squashed beneath a huge shapeless mass of color and taste. Sour, oily and stomach churning flavors that had me on the verge of puking. Gross desires, hateful lusts, spiteful love, guilty anger, angry lust and love, and behind it all was a powerful seething smug satisfaction directing it all. A cold, determined, empty need, that was proud and seethed with joy.

My eyes locked on hers, and I saw their color change, from brown to blue to green to violet to solid black and then one eye turned blue while the other went green.

Inside I felt something reach out to me and grab hold of my feelings of fondness and compassion for Lilly. Grab hold and start pulling them from me. Peg’s heart raced faster and her breathing got raspy and uneven. The tiny tip of her pink tongue slipped out of her mouth and ran around the surface of her thin lips. Her hands came up to her chest and started rubbing and clutching at her robe, pressing harder and harder against her body. One set of her desires was throbbing as if she were on the verge of an orgasm.

“No!” I snarled, locking my feelings down within me. I brought up what I’d taken from “Ivan” two days ago and blasted it down the link.

Peg squeaked like a mouse that had been stepped on and fainted.

I shook myself, trying to clear the memory of her disjointed and disquieting emotions from my mind. Then I started broadcasting calm, peace and compassion. I felt Lilly relax beside me. I helped her up and walked her to her room.

“It’s going to be okay, honey. You lie down and take it easy. I’ll be out in the hall if you need me.”

I closed the door to her room and sat down next to it, my back against the wall, and continued to broadcast for the next hour.

Peg was like me. Sort of. Maybe. She was fragmented inside. I didn’t know much about multiple personalities apart from what the term implied and what I’d seen in movies or read in fiction. If her mind was fragmented, then it stood to reason that her emotions would be as well.

Could I do anything to help her? Should I even try? And what the hell had she been trying to do?

‘Think, boy. Use your head. What did you see?’

“Everyone was angry and withdrawn. Sullen. No positive feelings. She tried to leech my most positive emotions. Some part of her feeds on the happiness of others. Why? Why would someone have to suck the happiness out of another?”

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

“If it’s so damn obvious, why didn’t I try to do it before?”

‘You didn’t want to be happy. Happiness brought you pain and misery. You’ve been afraid of it ever since. This girl…she’s not like you. Is she?’

“No. Not like me. She craves happiness, love, compassion, trust.”

‘So what’s the solution, healer?’

“It won’t do any good to feed her need. It’s like an addiction. You can’t feed an addiction. Wouldn’t do any good to cut her off either; going cold turkey might destroy her.”

‘Alright then, try another approach. Stop thinking linearly. If you want to kill weeds you have to get the root.’

“Root. What’s the cause? What drives the craving? No…root, what’s the root? She’s fragmented inside. Why fragment a healthy mind? Defense. She’s defending herself. What from? I don’t know what from.”

‘No, you don’t. You may never know.’

“I can’t fix this.”

‘Yes, you can. You know you can. The question you have to ask is can you live with yourself if you do?’

“I don’t have the right.”

‘It’s not a matter of right. There is no right.’

“It’s not ethical and it’s not moral.”

‘Moral…no. Ethics is about what you are willing to do, right or wrong.’

“Well I say it’s not right!”

‘Fine. Don’t do it. Sit back, bask in your ethical self righteousness and forget about the responsibility you have for the lives around you.’

“She is one of those lives.”

‘You can help her.’

“Which one is her?” I put my head in my hands and ran my fingers thru my increasingly long hair. I looked up, and sitting across from me was Colonel DeBerg.

“Hello Colonel. Been there long?”

“Thirty minutes or so.”

I smiled.

“Thinking about fitting me with a canvas tux?”

He smiled. “The thought did cross my mind. But I don’t think that will be necessary. You know, I’ve been a psychiatrist for twenty-five years and I thought I’d seen pretty much everything there was to see. I’ve have never gotten such a clear look into the mind, into the thought process, of a patient as I just had listening to you. Are you aware that your voice changes when you take the other side of the argument?”

“Lilly said something like that yesterday. I wasn’t aware that I talked out loud. I thought it was all internalized.”

“Most people have internal discussions. I’m curious about why you vocalize, but I don’t think it’s symptomatic of any significant disorder.”

“Glad to hear it. How is Peg? Still unconscious, I hope?”

He nodded. “I had her sedated and moved to a single room.”

“Right…feel like taking a little walk down to the basement? I’ve got a craving for some junk food.”

I got up and Colonel DeBerg fell in beside me as we headed for the elevators.

“What do you think of the term paranormal?”

“I think it’s a broad generalization meaning very little.”

“How about empathic? Any opinions about that term?”

“Empathic…not empathetic?”

“Yeah.” We got on the elevator and took it to the basement, got off and headed towards the small cafeteria in the back, past the chapel.

“I have known people who were extremely sensitive with regard to body language, vocal tone, verbal context, light levels, color schemes and clothing combinations. I have known people who seemed capable of arguing any side of any argument as if they were fanatical believers of all points of view. But if you mean empathic along the same line as telepathic…no I’m not a believer.”

“I didn’t think so.” We walked into the cafeteria; DeBerg got himself a cup of coffee while I got a bagel dog and a soda.

“I can feel the emotions of other people. Actually, of other living things. Mammals anyway…I haven’t tried it with any other kinds of animal yet. One time with a tree.”

He stopped moving and just stared at me.

“And now you’re rethinking that decision not to put me into a straightjacket.” I laughed.

“Yes, that’s what I’m thinking.”

“Don’t need any special talent to tell that.” I took a bite of the bagel dog.

“Tell me what I’m thinking then.”

I shook my head. “I can’t read thoughts. I have no idea what you’re thinking. Other than what I can figure out by observation or from your emotions. Those I can read, but only if I chose to. I’ve never linked with you. I try to avoid it whenever possible. It can be…uncomfortable.”

“You can feel their emotions yourself?”

“Yup.”

“How?”

I shrugged slightly. “If I can see a person or animal, I can create what I call a ‘link’ between us. Thru the link I can feel everything you feel. Your heart, your blood flow, pain you feel, love, hate, anger, jealously, rage, lust…name a feeling and if you feel it, I can feel you feeling it.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Not always. Imagine what it would be like if you were linked to someone and they were in horrible pain…or if they died. Can you even imagine what that would be like? I was thirteen when I first linked. I was on a hunting trip with my grandfather, father and brother. I linked with a deer and I killed it. Scared the hell out of me. Scared my folks when they found out. My father and brother went into denial and never would acknowledge what I could do. Anyway, I learned, with the help of my sister, to control my talent, learned some of the limitations. I never used it much. I don’t know…it didn’t seem right and I found that I didn’t want to know what everyone around me was feeling. It’s not always pretty. In high school I learned that I could project my emotions along the link. That was interesting, but I only did it that one time.

“I was linked with my wife when she died. I felt her pain and agony and I felt her death. I felt the child in her womb die. Somehow I survived, but it changed me, and not for the better.”

“You’ve felt Death?” he said the final word with a capital letter.

“I don’t recommend it. I’ve felt a lot of death since then. I’ve caused a lot of death since then. I think feeling her die isolated me from most of my own positive feelings, which then made it easier for me live with the other deaths. I don’t know…I felt guilty for not being able to protect her and the baby. Later I felt guilty for surviving and not dying myself.”

“Can you show me? Let me feel someone else’s emotions?”

I eyed him. “What do you want to feel? Your skin being peeled away from your body, bullets punching thru your body, bones being broken, flesh burning, blood pumping from ruptured arteries? Irene’s drug addled final hours? How about a getting inside the mind of serial killer? Or would you prefer something more positive? How about a teenage girl’s orgasm? A mother’s kiss? What would you like Colonel?”

“I want to know what you’re feeling.” I shook my head.

“Colonel, I don’t think you could survive it.” I looked around. A young female med tech walked past the doorway and stepped outside into the cold to have a smoke. “How about I let you see what she’s feeling?” I pointed to the young woman.

“Alright. Show me.”

I linked with the woman. I waved DeBerg over to me, shifted him into my line of sight and linked to him. Then I pulled her emotions and routed them down his link. The chill of the winter wind and the bite of the cold in her nose, the harshness of the smoke in her lungs and the relaxing sensations she got from the nicotine, the itch between her legs and the way her cold erected nipples pressed against the constriction of her bra; her mild anger, anxiety, a bloated cramped feeling and apprehension with just a touch of excitement. She knew we were watching her.

Colonel DeBerg’s eyes got so big I thought his eyebrows might rise up and get lost in his hairline.

“Absolutely the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.” he gasped. I nodded and cut the links.

“So, now you know.”

“Now I know.” he agreed breathlessly. “If I could do what you do I would never tell anyone.”

“Colonel…I got myself stuck on a psych ward and I can’t seem to keep my inner-thoughts to myself. Eventually I was bound to get noticed. I’m telling you and showing you for a reason. You need to know what I’m telling you is true. About me and about Peg. Inside that poor girl is a vicious empathic leech. She feeds on the positive emotions of those around her and if I let her go on without doing something about it there will be suicides and possibly murders on the ward before the end of the week.”

“Alright, I’m willing to accept your assessment of Peg’s condition. You seemed to think you could do something to help her, but I got the impression you were unwilling to try.”

“There are, I believe, several possible courses of action. Most of them are risky. I have very little knowledge or understanding of multiple personalities or the mind; so anything you can tell me will help me decide which approach I should try.”

“Hmmm…okay, a quick synopsis: fragmentation can occur for many reasons, but usually severe emotional trauma and/or extended physical abuse is a root cause. Numbers of distinct personalities tend to vary for reasons we don’t understand. The largest number of identifiable personalities I’ve dealt with in my practice was nine. There is usually a core personality, if the fragmentation occurs after puberty. In the very rare cases where it occurs prior to puberty the core personality never fully develops and is lost. There is always a dominant persona, usually very aggressive and quite masculine, even in females. There is, in most cases at least one sexually aggressive personality. And usually one that is a small child. Conventional theory on treatment tends to fall back on drug therapy.”

“Okay, sounds like what I found in her this morning, with the exception of the leech.” I took a swig from my soda and mulled my options. “Colonel, there is no easy solution here for either of us. I can try to burn the ability out of her, which will probably work, but leave her without a dominant personality and with no way to get the positive feelings she’s craving. Or I can drain all of her emotions and destroy all but her core personality, if I can isolate it from the others. I’m afraid those are the two best options. Either one could leave her badly damaged, but they should put an end to the leeching problem.”

DeBerg was very quiet for a time. He sipped his coffee and watched the girl outside finish her cigarette.

“It sounds like what you’re proposing is an emotional lobotomy.”

“More or less.”

“When would you want to do this?”

“Soon. The longer we put this off the greater the risk of her driving one of the more fragile patients to suicide.”

“Alright then. Tomorrow morning. I’ll make sure she’s sedated thru the night. I assume you’ll want to do this somewhere off the ward.”

“Yes. I was thinking of the gym upstairs. It’s isolated enough to keep the emotional spillage from affecting too many others inside the hospital.”

“I’ll tell Captain Rossi you and Peg will be absent from your group sessions.”

“Thank you Colonel.”