Seventeen

“So how far did you get before they got ya?” His smile annoyed me. He was still charismatic, though. I imagined he got most of what he wanted in life via that likable personality.

“Not all that far. But I made sure they were told of who instigated my temporary insanity.” I grinned up at him. His face turned pale. I laughed. “Relax, dude, I didn’t tell them shit.” He exhaled loudly.

“Thank goodness.” He regained his relaxed posture and looked around him. “I’ll talk to ya later, Kev. We should discuss some stuff.”

“What stuff?” I asked quickly, but he had already walked off. I stood up from my bed and started to walk out of the Quiet Room, but after receiving some hard looks from the staff desk that was nearby, I turned back around and started pacing in the few feet of floor that was available to me.

So many questions, so few answers. What the heck was going on? I was beginning to get a strange feeling about everything. A kind of surreal feeling was beginning to hit me on a regular basis. It seemed like every time I talked to someone, they had a certain kind of “effect” on me. Almost as if I was being hit with some sort of influence, every single time I talked to someone. And not just the basic kinds of feelings, like guilt or uneasiness. These feelings went much farther up the scale of spiritual sensitivity. I was broken out of my reverie by an attendant carrying breakfast.

“Cool! Man, am I starving…,” I muttered, concentrating on the bagels and fruit in front of me. Then I looked up. The attendant carrying my food was one of the guys I had manhandled a couple of days ago when the parking lot fiasco occurred. I did what I thought was the decent thing. I apologized. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t quite….”

“Shove it. We’ll be ready for you next time.” He tossed my tray on my bed and walked off.

That’s what I’m talking about.


Lessons coming, relax.

So I sat down on my bed and noshed away on the first meal I’d had in quite a while. A man walked up to me while I was halfway through a cream-cheese covered bagel.

“Hey Kevin. I’m your attendant for today, my name is Thomas.” He was a HUGE guy. When I say huge, I really just mean fat. He was probably in his late forties and had a long gray beard covering a weathered face. And this guy was blacker than tar.

“Um, nice to meet you. Mind if I finish my meal?” Strawberry juice was dripping from my mouth.

“Sure. Its okay for you to come out of this room now. Once you’re done eating you can meet me right over there.” He pointed to the staff desk that was a few feet away.

“Got it,” I said. Of all the people that I’d run in to so far, this man exuded more raw power than anybody else. I was downright intrigued to talk to him some more.

The mentor cometh.


What?

I gobbled up the rest of my food and then walked over to the desk. Thomas looked up at me.

“I’ll meet you in the rec room in a minute,” he said. I stared back at him. “Can you handle that?” he said, louder. I nodded and headed toward the rec room.

There were two people in the room. One was a white guy dressed in a hunting cap and taped up glasses. He was staring at the TV. The other one was a fat older gentleman in a wheelchair, who was nodding off to sleep. I sat down at a table near one corner of the room. I glanced at the TV, wary of the “subliminal” possibilities. I started tapping my fingers, wondering how I was going to spend my time in this place. From what I’d seen so far, most people either watched TV or slept. Thomas walked in to the room with a file in one hand. As he walked toward me he shouted toward the sleeping gentleman.

“Henry! Boy, you wake up right now!” Henry’s eyes shot open and he looked at Thomas with disgust. He didn’t go back to sleep though. He just stared at Thomas, who seemed oblivious to this attention as he sat down at the table with me.

“Kevin, how are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” My eyes were glued to the file. Its contents were a natural curiosity for me. I wondered how much Thomas knew about me. Probably everything. Would it work in my favor was the big question.

“Why are you in here?”

“I’m bipolar.” I was still not willing to lie.

“The reason I ask is simple. You assaulted two orderlies a couple nights ago. An action like that would usually mean a trip to some place far worse than here. I’m wondering how you managed to remain a resident of our little home away from home.” His eyes seemed huge as he turned toward me. I looked at him, wondering what I should say next. When I didn’t speak, he continued on. “Kevin, what I’d really like to know about you, is what goes through your brain when you get violent like that. What do you expect is going to happen when you assault people like that? What if you kill somebody?” Ah, his information wasn’t quite as inclusive as I expected.

“I’m a Gulf War vet, I’ve thought about that before. I’m hoping that if I ever make a mistake of such massive proportions, that God would forgive me and I’d still get in to heaven. What would YOU do if YOU ever killed anybody?” The challenge was normal. I looked at him, then he looked at me. Then his gaze moved behind me. I turned around and in walked a man with blonde hair in a white coat with a clipboard.

“Kevin! Your dad has told me a lot about you! I’m Dr. Melcher.”

I love this man.

I knew you would.