Inanimate Page 7

  “Idiot!”

  Crass yelled uninterested in how many other staff could hear him.

  “I’ll have him disciplined for this! Why would he lie about having kids?”

  “Come on now Ben you said it yourself, it was an ice breaker and how could he have known Connor was so perceptive. None of us knew.”

  “But that’s why we use Paul Frieda Greg! To find this stuff out, so we don’t make any rookie moves like that! But what the hell’s the point in using him if he can’t even hold a simple conversation with a ten year old without blowing it?”

  MacNamee veered across the front of Crass and ushered him into his office. Storming up to the window Crass stared out at nothing in particular. The warm surroundings of MacNamee’s office were calming to his senses. A plush mahogany desk with matching leather couches and an oak bookcase suggested this young Doctor had more taste than anyone would expect. Crass spied the Scotch decanter; however he knew better, they normally kept that for after hours.

  “Look Ben, Connor is going to be with us a long time, this is just a temporary setback. Give Frieda a chance; he is good at what he does.”

  With a sigh, Crass relented.

  “Of course you’re right Greg. The youngster was probably exhausted too. We’ll try again tomorrow”

  Crass looked back at the decanter and felt he was allowed to give in to his temptation; after all he was the boss.

  “How about a drop of that Scotch?”

  CHAPTER 11

  He pulled off the interstate only thirty minutes ago leaving no discernible trail. Stopping only once for gas he decided it would be best if as few people as possible spotted him. It was only dusk but already the neon signs on the outskirts of the town were starting to come on.

  “Welcome to Staunton” the sign read.

  Perhaps there was a message indicating population but Andy didn’t notice. He only just saw the name. In fact there could have been a picture of Andy’s deceased wife on the sign but he still wouldn’t have noticed. The motels advertised their rivaling wares with gaudy green and blue signs with names like “Morning View” or “Pit Stop.” Oddly enough the one with the most cars and therefore the most business was named “La Cookeracha.” He paid attention to these motels as he wanted to stay in the quietest one which turned out to be the “Morning View.” Having already driven past it, Andy waited for his chance. He swung the wheel and made a U turn to double back to the “Morning View Motel.”

  The door jingled as he entered the office. It seemed like it got darker, faster outside. The large glass window to the outside showed a practically empty parking lot with night creeping in fast. In the quiet of the office, the only noise seemed to be coming from a television in a living room behind the desk. A man laughed at America’s Funniest Home Videos; Andy recognized the theme music from the days when he would watch re-runs of it with Martha. Andy dinged the bell and allowed the dull sound to work its summoning power. After a few moments a voice was heard before the throaty operator even appeared through the door.

  “Room for one?” asked an overweight popcorn-muncher, still with kernels in the corner of her mouth.

  As Andy accepted her assumption he wondered if it was butter on her cheeks or she was just that greasy.

  “Well sir it’s your lucky day.” She spattered, firing out crispy chunks of popcorn in Andy’s general direction.

  The girl started off on a morbid store jingle with all the enthusiasm of a turkey at Christmas. Her numb voice did nothing to hide the tackiness of her speech.

  “Here at the Morning View Motel chain, we’re having a room fallout for fall only. In fact you will fall over when you hear our prices.”

  The girl paused.

  “That will be $19.95 please.”

  With a delay the woman poked out her T-Rex arm to a confused Andy.

  “You don’t have to sell me anything. I already want to stay here.”

  “I need to say it, it’s part of our marketing campaign.”

  Andy glanced over his shoulder to the empty parking lot.

  “It’s working” he said dryly and handed her a $20 bill in return for a key.

  “Room 12” the girl said, ignorant to his jibe.

  The darkness seemed to have closed in fast around him. Poorly maintained trees loomed over the building that housed the rooms, stretching out over the top like arms reaching out for him. His head down, tunnel vision guided him down the road to room 12. Without even bothering to look around the room he had rented, he dropped his coat and looked at the one thing he cared about; the bed. Having brought nothing with him, Andy had nothing to unpack. Leaving everything behind that reminded him of home meant leaving everything behind. Mentally wracked with exhaustion, Andy collapsed on the bed, his eyelids closed like vault doors. Face down he slept while the latch on the door swung behind him, he didn’t care enough to lock it.

  Two zombies watched television in the motel operators living area. Drivel drifted from the screen to their eyeballs, feeding gluttonous lethargy. As the end credits rolled up on another program, Amanda ordered her slovenly partner Kyle to get more snacks from the built in kitchen. As he rummaged through the cupboards, finding nothing right away, wrestling with a deathly fear that they could be snackless for the remainder of the evening, he was surprised to hear Amanda’s first enthusiastic sounds of the night accompanying the local news anchor. He turned his meaty head round just in time to see a news report updating its viewers on “The Baby Killer” case in the city. Amanda spotted a picture of Andy, listed as “Father of Baby Killer” which was the reason for her gurgling with excitement.

  “That’s the guy I just served! Room 12!”

  “The news anchor?” Kyle asked, generally uninterested in anything but snacks.

  “No retard! The baby killer’s father!”

  “Fuck off.”

  “No, I’m serious. That’s the guy! He’s staying here.

  “Well...so what?”

  “So? So, I’m going to call Sandy, she’s not going to believe this!”

  CHAPTER 12

  The sky around Hallcombes had broken up and it had turned into a clear crisp morning. MacNamee arrived earlier than usual today as he normally did with a new patient. Despite the fact he did not really want to be treating this particular patient, he couldn’t change the fact that he was. So it was his duty to try and make the transition for the boy as easy as possible. He knew that being institutionalized was never easy for anyone; insane or not. MacNamee was certainly early today but no matter how early he got there he was never earlier than Crass. Studies say there are only a very small percentage of people who could function on less than four hours sleep a night and Crass was one of them. Crass normally arrived at work at 6am; he would have his paperwork completed by 6:45 daily while most didn’t start their shifts till around 9. MacNamee found this quite extraordinary really. The man was never seen with a coffee in his hand either; quite often a glass of water was all he needed to stay alert in the morning. Not MacNamee though. Regardless of whether or not he really needed it, he certainly enjoyed his early morning coffee stop. “Triple Tall Americano with vanilla” was his tipple, which he happened to be savoring on his way to meet up with Crass in his office. Two knocks today, that’s all Crass was getting. MacNamee’s passive resentment towards the fact Crass always beat him to work took a luke warm form today. The way Crass yelled “Enter” always reminded MacNamee of Star Trek, the way Captain Picard had yelled it many times. This always made MacNamee smile as he entered the room to the busy old doctor. In many respects, MacNamee thought Crass was somewhat like Captain Picard, minus the baldness. They were both distinguished, older gentleman with a lot of responsibility. They commanded respect wherever they went and had rugged, intimidating demeanors. However MacNamee would never raise the comparison, as Crass did not enjoy watching a lot of television, much less science fiction.

  “Good morning Doctor”

  MacNamee spouted as he pulled up a chair opposite Crass.<
br />
  “Good morning Greg. Americano?”

  MacNamee lifted his cup to him in acknowledgement.

  “You’ll give yourself high blood pressure”

  MacNamee didn’t respond to the comment, thankful the old man didn’t know there was an extra shot of espresso in there.

  “How has your morning been so far?”

  Organizing some papers Crass responded.

  “I called Frieda.”

  MacNamee almost choked on his coffee.

  “You called Frieda? Why?”

  “I wanted to talk to about yesterday”

  “It’s six-thirty in the morning Ben. Couldn’t it have waited until later, he isn’t due in till nine.”

  “What difference does the time make, you and I are here…and no, it couldn’t”

  MacNamee conceded, he had said his piece. He simply smiled. He was sure Frieda would not have enjoyed being woken up by Crass, but he would have liked to have seen his face when he got the call.

  “So?”

  “So what?” replied Crass

  “Well, aren’t you going to tell me about the call?”

  “It’s simple really, I want Connor to open up. And, after yesterday, I didn’t want our future chances dashed. So I asked our resident expert on the best way to allow the child to feel more at ease here. He suggested toys”

  “What kind of toys?”

  “His toys, Connor’s toys, the ones he kept in his room at home. It’s no hassle, it’s not like they were evidence. I already called the police station, they’re bringing them over later this morning.”

  MacNamee looked at his mentor in admiration.

  “You don’t waste any time do you”

  A wry smile crossed Crass’s face.

  “Come on Greg, you know me better than that.”

  The two Doctors strolled down the long corridor.

  “Now…” started Crass

  I don’t know if he’ll be coming personally, but our contact for the boy at the station is a Sergeant Jacobs. He was the officer in charge of the case, dealt with Connor and the father too; it was him I talked to on the phone. You might want to remember that, it could come in handy.”

  “Sergeant Jacobs, got it.”

  “Ok, now let’s get some breakfast shall we?”

  The two men headed off to the canteen for a quick bite.

  Outside the city, in the little town of Staunton, Andy Williams slept soundly, the pillow rose slightly as his great snores sucked the cloth towards his mouth. Beside him, the unlocked door belied a bad habit of his. In times of haste or fatigue he never got the hang of closing doors properly. This bad habit was about to lead to the expeditious discovery of his disappearance. Right now, in the city, a police officer was approaching his door in midst of requisitioning some toys for Andy’s institutionalized son. One notoriously heavy policeman’s knock on the wooden door sent it ajar. Foul play was on the cop’s mind as he drew his sidearm and entered the house.

  “Mr. Williams?”

  But the place was empty. Calling in the situation from the hallway, the cop searched the house to no avail. It remained empty.

  Crass and MacNamee were finishing up their breakfast while chatting slowly. They did not usually sit in the canteen for so long but after yesterday’s debacle with Connor they wanted to make sure they had their plan worked out for the day ahead. A call from the PA system interrupted them.

  “Paging Doctor Crass. Doctor Crass please report to your office. Thank you”

  Crass looked at MacNamee.

  “My office? Why would I need to report there?”

  “Come, on, let’s go see.”

  The hospital was starting to bustle as staff came and went for their breakfast, filling up the halls as they walked between patient’s rooms. As Crass entered his office, he was greeted by two men; both in suits, but both Doctors could tell they were cops right away.

  “Are you Doctor Crass?”

  “Yes I am”

  “I’m Sergeant Jacobs this is Detective Hunt, we brought over the toys you requested.”

  “Thanks very much Sergeant.”

  Crass stood for a moment looking at the gritty sergeant standing next to a comparatively clean looking officer. He got the feeling there was something else or the sergeant wouldn’t be here.

  “Surely it doesn’t take two cops to deliver a bag of toys.”

  “Very shrewd Doctor” Jacobs replied with a hint of sarcasm.

  Ok Hunt, go wait in the car.”

  Hunt obliged.

  Crass moved round the desk and sat in his chair, thus asserting himself as dominant while MacNamee sat on the back of the couch, thus asserting himself otherwise.

  “Sergeant, this is Doctor Greg MacNamee, the other leading Doctor attached to Connor Williams.”

  The two men shook hands and Jacobs sat down opposite Crass.

  “So what can I do for you Sergeant? I assume you didn’t come down here for the food, because I assure you, it isn’t up to much.”

  Jacobs’s chuckled.

  “No, I didn’t come here for the food. Has Andy Williams been in to see his son since he was admitted?”

  “No, I don’t believe he has been. Why?”

  “He’s gone missing.”

  Both Doctors looked surprised.

  “Detective Hunt there went round to the house a little while ago to pick up the toys and he was gone, car too, door was wide open.”

  “Perhaps he went out, for groceries or something” said MacNamee

  “I doubt it. A neighbor was leaving for work, told Hunt he saw him leave yesterday. Said he ran out the door looking flustered.”

  “Well, I would probably be flustered too, under the circumstances” stated Crass.

  Jacobs put his hands up, showing Crass his palms.

  “Look, I know, I would be too but I’m not here to pass judgment, just to inform. I came over here straight away, I thought since you were the ones looking after the boy, you should be the ones to tell him his father isn’t coming to see him.”

  “We don’t know that yet sergeant. It would be unwise to tell the boy anything until we have facts to back it up!” disputed Crass

  “Look Doc, I interviewed Andy Williams, the guy was a time bomb. His emotions were all over the place. I called his work on the way over here, he didn’t show up yesterday or today and they haven’t heard from him.”

  “Would he be expected to go into work after happened?” asked MacNamee

  “Come on guys” reasoned Jacobs, “I’m not the bad guy here. It seems pretty clear to me he’s fled. Call it a hunch mixed in with, you know, facts!”

  “Are you going to look for him?” Crass asked

  “Why would we? He’s done nothing wrong. His only child has been passed over to state custody and he was already cleared of involvement in his girlfriend’s death, there’s nothing more we can do, except tell the boy.”

  “I don’t think that would be wise” said Crass “the boy is already in a fragile state.”

  “Ok” relented Jacobs “you’re the Doctors, I’m just a humble cop but I just think it will be worse for him to keep expecting a visit that never comes. It might be better if you get the bad news out the way quick, like pulling off a band aid!”

  Crass looked at Jacobs sternly.

  “You will forgive me Sergeant if I don’t defer to your medical expertise when I think about comparing a child’s mental wellbeing with ‘pulling off a band aid’”

  Jacobs sighed.

  “Like I said, you’re the Doctors; I’ll leave it up to you, that’s just my two cents.”

  Jacobs got up.

  “I had Hunt inventory all the toys so you’ll have a note for your records”

  He pulled a note out his pocket and put it on the table.

  “I’ll see myself out. You know where to reach me if you need to. Good luck gents”

  Jacobs headed out the office door leaving Crass and MacNamee to ponder their next move, neither one of t
hem said goodbye to the sergeant as he left.

  Connor lay awake as the lock in his door snapped open. The large orderly entered with a large black garbage back in hand. Tim could barely make eye contact with the youngster as he dropped off the bag and headed briskly back towards the exit. When he had gone and the lock snapped behind him Connor got up to rummage through his bag. They were all there. Bear, the Three Dummies, his soldiers, his toy dog, Betsy and Basket. Seeing Basket made him the happiest.

  After giving the clown a hug the clown he put him aside while he propped up all his dolls along the wall so they could watch him sleep. Connor used to sleep soundly knowing he was under the watchful gaze of his “friends”. MacNamee peered in through the window sneakily, watching the boy arrange his toys in such a way.

  “Thanks Tim” MacNamee whispered.

  “No problem Doc”

  Tim replied just before he headed off down the corridor.

  “Ok, we’ll give it a couple of minutes and then go in” said Crass.

  MacNamee nodded in agreement as he watched Connor finish lining them all up. Minutes later MacNamee knocked on the door and then unlocked it. Knocking was an underestimated technique in his books. By doing so he was trying to establish that “room 101” was Connor’s own room where he could be safe. Entering the room MacNamee tried to be cheery, despite his trepidation.

  “Hey Connor. How’s my little guy doing today?”

  Connor didn’t respond. Crass watched from the doorway as MacNamee pulled up a chair and sat down beside the boy.

  “Not talking much today eh?”

  Connor sat with his back to him; he was sorting the uniform on the large ventriloquist dummy meticulously. With his hand round the back, he was trying to tuck the dummies shirt into its trousers.

  “Not going to talk to me today? Even after I got you your toys?”

  MacNamee watched the boy try to tuck in the shirt.

  “Why don’t you turn it around Connor? It might be easier to...”