The Case of Zachary Turner.
It was Christmas day. I knew daddy would lock me in the basement if he caught me. But he wouldn`t catch me. No. I'd be sneaky this year. I jumped down the stairs, navigated the hallway and now the prize was right in front of me. It was in front of the fire. A huge present wrapped in some pretty paper with Zachary printed on the side in big red lettering. My 27th Christmas. The best one yet.
Mr and Mrs Turner (or Lilah and John to their friends), knew that their son had problems when he was just 5 years old. He claimed he heard things at first. Voices, asking him to go places on his own, telling him to talk to strangers and demanding him to play with matches. Of course, young Zachary was too young to realise the dangers. He became wrapped in a world where only he and the voices mattered and for the first time in his life he felt important; everyone else was irrelevant.
He often wandered off and wouldn`t return for hours at a time. His parents tried everything imaginable; locks on the door, a nanny to watch him when they were not around and even tying him to his bed! Zachary still managed to escape of course, and when his parents asked neighbours or passers by if they had seen a small boy, none of them had.
Lilah and John sat patiently in the clinics waiting room. The smell of bleach was overpowering and the walls needed something cheery, such as a painting to lighten the mood…if that was even possible given the situation they were in.
"What if they can`t help us?" Lilah croaked. She could barely speak after shouting for Zachary on his latest escape attempt.
"Don`t you dare think like that!" John snapped. He seemed to have startled himself with his tone and quickly lowered his voice. "There must be some sort of medical explanation for all of this,"
"I pray to God there is." A tear rolled down her cheek but she wiped it away before anyone could see. The last thing she needed was pitiful glances from complete strangers. She stared at the far wall with a blank expression on her face, almost mirroring her sons. She remembered when Zac had been a 'normal' little boy. He took baths without having to be told, cleaned up after himself and was extremely polite. These last couple of months however all hell had broken loose. She`d had to drag him several times to the bath and desperately ignored his heartbreaking screams. It was like he was a different person.
"Mr and Mrs Turner?" a voice called. Lilah looked up and saw a smartly dressed man scanning to reception area. "Mr and Mrs Turner?" he repeated more impatiently.
"Here" John whispered. It was hardly audible, but this man was probably used to people who were feeling sorry for themselves. He drifted towards the couple.
"Would you please follow me?" he asked kindly.
The man took them along a huge corridor that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. They could feel their hearts pounding in their chests and looked at each other for comfort. Eventually, they approached a dark rosewood door.
"After you," the man said whilst holding the door open for them.
Two red leather chairs were positioned next to each other opposite an extremely large black one. There were bookcases lining all four walls with titles in a variety of different languages, but overall it was dominated by Latin. It was all very daunting.
"Please take a seat!" the man gestured as he settled himself into his big black 'throne on wheels'. "Now then, I am Dr. Kavisheema, an expert in all mental health issues in both children and adults. I am aware you have been on the waiting list for about 4 weeks now?"
"Yes, that`s correct," John confirmed.
"Alright, and when did you first notice a change in Zachary's behaviour?"
"2 months ago". John was brave. He showed no sign of nerves and remained professional all the way through.
"I know this may be a sensitive topic, but what exactly is different about him?" Dr. Kavisheema inquired. John and Lilah looked at each other. They had dreaded this question. It felt like they were sharing their sons dark secret with a man they didn`t really know. The silence was dreadful. The sound of the clock ticking frantically on the wall, the heavy breathing of Dr. Kavisheema, the squeak of his chair, the sound of their own heartbeats, the clock again, the constant tick, tock, tick, tock. Everything was amplified in their heads as they desperately searched for an answer. It all proved too much for Lilah. She burst into tears and ran as fast as she could from John, from Dr. Kavisheema and from that horrible room! She wanted to run forever until she escaped life itself. She skidded along the corridor and shoved past the crowds of people milling about in the waiting room until she reached the cold, crisp air outside. She sat on the pavement and sobbed. It was as if the weather knew how she was feeling as it started pouring down with rain, the blue sky slowly being choked by dark grey clouds.
"I apologise if I asked something that made you uncomfortable" Dr. Kavisheema said awkwardly, breaking the silence that had descended upon Lilah` s exit. After a pause, John gathered himself together and spoke.
"Please, don`t apologise. Lilah` s been hit the hardest by Zachary` s behaviour so she finds it hard to discuss. It`s not your fault."
Dr. Kavisheema looked intensely at John as if he has studying some kind of new species under one of his elaborate microscopes, and it made him feel very uncomfortable.
"How much do you care for Zachary?" Dr. Kavisheema asked. Not once taking his eyes off John.
"I beg your pardon?" John choked in disbelief.
"The reason I`m asking Mr. Turner is because if your son is causing you so much grief and unhappiness, you will find it hard to treat him in an acceptable way. You may start taking your anger out on him for instance, blaming him for his behaviour even though you know it isn` t his own fault… Do you understand what I mean?"
John understood very well indeed. Numerous times he had thrown his son down the steps to the basement and kept him locked in for hours at a time. He had managed to persuade the nanny not to say a word when he took Zachary away, forcing her to tell Lilah that he had gone on the run again. After all, it was a feasible story. He`d done a very good job of keeping this from his wife and she still had no idea. If things went Johns way, she never would.
"Yes I understand," John answered hesitantly. "Though I don't see why showing a child a bit of discipline is a problem?"
"With young children aggression is distressing. With young children who have a mental illness, aggression is destructive. In theory, if you became aggressive with Zachary, his condition would worsen until he was beyond the point of rehabilitation. Though Lilah confirmed with me on the phone that neither of you have ever lost your temper with him, so there is hope on the horizon it seems!"
John Panicked. Images flashed through his mind of a man dressed in dirty white clothes, forever cursed with the mind of a child and tortured by his illness. Did he really want that man to be his son?
Dr. Kavisheema noticed that John's behaviour had become agitated and his eyes narrowed. He knew what he needed to know. A frustrated parent quickly turned into an aggressive one. If this man had been unable to control his temper, then it was possible that the effects were already irreversible. It had been two months ago the problems had started, plenty of time. Whatever was up with this poor child, his parents were not the people he should be around. There was only one way he could fully assess the situation. He needed to meet the boy.
John and Zachary sat patiently in the clinics waiting room. Zachary was humming to himself, his little legs swinging. Lilah had refused to return here after yesterday's events. Also, she could hardly look at Zachary without bursting into tears. He had suffered from night terrors. It didn't take a genius to work it out once you saw the huge dark shadows under his dull brown eyes, which once sparkled.
John looked up when he heard the familiar voice of Dr. Kavisheema. He was obviously delivering unfortunate news to some unsuspecting family judging by the expression on his face. John's theory was proven correct when he heard a chorus of heavy sobs drifting down the everlasting corridor. Soon after, the Dr. Kavisheema came back. He had traded his sullen expression for a happy and welcoming one and called for Zachary. Fickle.
John picked up Zachary despite his protests and followed the doctor. His shoes squeaked on the floor making an eerie sound that reverberated off the walls. The further down he got in the corridor the darker it became. The voices that came from the main part of the clinic became muffled until they completely faded away, but still the corridor stretched on. It was a longer walk than he remembered and the melancholy tune that Zachary had begun to hum made the hackles on his neck rise. It came as a great relief when they finally reached the familiar rosewood door. He tapped lightly on the wood.
"Ah, come in" came Dr. Kavisheema` s voice from inside. Still clutching his son, John pushed open the door. "This must be Zachary" he swooned.
"Indeed it is," John replied, planting a kiss on the child's forehead.
"You must be very proud," Dr. Kavisheema said slyly. It was the icy tone of his voice that made John's whole body freeze.
"As a matter of fact I am," John said confidently, desperate to prove to this snooty man that he would love his son no matter what! He knew he had been unable to control his anger in the past, but the reason he was here was because he cared.
Dr. Kavisheema got up out of his big black chair and walked towards Zachary. He checked the boys pulse, and then without a word picked him up and took him into a separate room. John remained seated and wondered how such a pleasant man could turn into an insensitive one in less than twenty four hours.
When the pair finally emerged, John thought he observed sadness in Dr. Kavisheema` s eyes. 'It probably isn` t genuine', he thought to himself, especially after seeing the doctor` s sympathy charade with the family only a couple of hours ago.
"I have carried out a few small tests on your son and I can now tell you, if you are ready of course, my diagnosis as well as the appropriate action to take" Dr. Kavisheema said formally. John hesitated. He had been desperate to find out what was causing Zachary` s suffering and now here was a man with all the information. Did he really want to know? Of course he did. How else could he help Zac?
"Okay."
"Zachary has been experiencing audible phenomena. In other words, voices in his head. If not for your wife dragging him to the bath, he would have poor personal hygiene and finally, probably the most obvious of all, he is non-responsive. All these things are classic symptoms of Schizophrenia." John stared at the doctor. He then turned and looked at his son who had resumed his usual humming. Zachary` s large brown eyes caught his gaze and John felt himself trying to choke back his tears. Dr. Kavisheema interrupted the moment and continued. "I understand that this has come as quite a shock, but the only way he can recover is if he is removed from his current home. The best place for him to go would be Croswell, the rehabilitation unit."
"You mean, a lunatic asylum?" John asked, shocked at the suggestion.
" We prefer not to call them that, I`m sure you can understand…"
"All I understand is that you want to lock my son away in a lunatic asylum! What would you do if I refuse?" John could feel himself sweating.
"Then that is your decision," Dr. Kavisheema said coolly, "But his condition will worsen on it`s own and he will become a danger to himself and those around him."
John` s stomach turned. This was it. He took one last look at Zachary and his decision was made. He left the clinic alone.
Zachary sat in his cell. It was like sitting on a cloud with the padded white walls and floor. Maybe, it was heaven, though he doubted that idea very much. He could hear the faint sound of voices in his head… "Zachaaaaaary…Zachaaaaary!" It sounded like the whispering wind. A strange sound, but comforting all the same. The squeaking metal door swinging open cut off Zachary` s train of thought and he was jolted back into reality. He stared at the stranger who was walking towards him. He was coming closer, and closer. Nobody ever came near him at Croswell unless they were brandishing some sort of medication, so Zachary was suspicious. He started to back into the nearest corner and began humming his new favourite tune, but the man didn`t go away. He hummed louder.
"Will you shut UP!" the stranger screamed. This made Zachary more afraid and he began to cry. He tried to find a way past the angry man, but his vision was blurred with tears and his legs were weak.
The stranger realised he had done something wrong when an older man shoved him to one side and raced over to Zachary.
"What on earth have you done to him!" the doctor exclaimed.
"N, n, nothing doctor Kavisheema," the stranger stuttered. The man who appeared to be Dr. Kavisheema waved him away and focused his attention on the twenty-seven year old man in tears.
"Don` t you worry Zac, everything` s ok. That strange man? Oh he was just one of my medical students. He didn`t mean any harm. That` s right, calm down. No need to worry now. He won` t be coming back." Dr. Kavisheema had aged considerably since his first meeting with Zac. It had been twenty-two years ago and the time had flown by. What had become apparent in the time that Zachary had been with the Croswell rehabilitation unit, was that he was never going to get better. He was beyond repair and it ripped Dr. Kavisheema apart. He had known the boy since he was five and he had come to view him as his own son, but the truth was he wasn`t, and he would have to be returned to his real family in the next couple of hours. It would be cruel keeping him here all his life.
Dr. Kavisheema held Zachary` s hand all the way to the car that would return him home. He looked very smart in his white tracksuit, even if it was a little dirty. The doctor took one final look at him and handed him instructions as to what to do once he had been dropped off. He stepped back and watched as the shiny black car disappeared into the distance and a tear rolled down his cheek. He hoped that he would see Zac again soon, but he never did.
The car pulled into Tulip Avenue at lunchtime. All the clouds from that morning had cleared, exposing a turquoise sky and a golden sun. It was the perfect day to return home.
Zachary stumbled out of the car. He waved manically as it drove away back to Croswell. He had decided that he would miss all his friends there, even though they hated him and called him nasty things. He pulled out the list from his pocket and studied it carefully. There was a picture of a house, which resembled the one he was stood in front of. He concluded that was the place he was meant to go. He walked slowly up the path; his heart was pounding in his chest and adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He was finally going to be accepted and just thinking about it made him smile. He knocked on the door and began to hum is favourite tune once again.
To Be Continued. . .