Max Headroom: Theora's Decision
CHAPTER ONE: Decision Made
"Cheviot's announced a family day for the network," Murray told his team.
"I can invite my cousin," Edison said. "I'm sure Maddy would love to meet everyone."
"And I'm sure Shawn and Winnie would be happy to see you again, Edison," Theora told him.
"I assume they'll bring the baby," Edison guessed.
"Alyssa," Theora said. "Yeah, they'll probably bring her along."
"What about Bryce," Edison asked. "Think he'll try to weasel out of it?"
"He can't," Murray told them. "Cheviot said it was mandatory attendance. All employees must attend with at least one family member."
In his studio, Bryce was on the verge of adding panicking to the incessant pacing he was doing.
"How can Cheviot do this to me?" he asked himself aloud. "Doesn't he realize there's a reason I haven't seen my family since I got accepted at ACS?"
"Have you told told told him?" Max asked.
"I shouldn't have to," Bryce shot back. "It's none of his business. He should just assume I don't want to see them for a good reason. This forced encounter is something I don't want. But he won't hear of it. I swear he set this up just to force me to see them again."
"I'm sure you can th-th-think of…"
"I'm out of excuses, Max," Bryce told him. "I don't want to ever see them again."
Max was about to comment when Theora and Edison walked in.
"I know what you're going to say, Edison," Bryce said. "I told Cheviot I don't want them here. But he's insisting."
"You know, it doesn't have to be your parents," Edison pointed out. "You can invite a brother or sister. Or an aunt. Or…"
"I get the idea," Bryce said. "Unfortunately my parents and I all were the only members of our family. And my grandmother passed four years ago."
"So why not invite your parents? It's only for a few hours," Edison pointed out. "I'm sure you can put up with them for that long."
Bryce gave an exasperated huff and went into his bedroom. He lay down and put his pillow over his head.
Edison threw his hands up in annoyance and left. But Theora would not be so easily deterred. She had never seen Edison give up so easily. Maybe he'd quietly decided that Theora would be better at dealing with this matter.
"Bryce," Theora said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She reached down to touch Bryce's back only to feel him flinch at her touch.
"Please, don't," Bryce pleaded, softly.
Theora raised an eyebrow. "Does your back hurt?"
Bryce didn't reply.
"Show me," Theora requested, firmly.
"No," Bryce said, his tone equally firm.
"Bryce…" Theora insisted.
"Just leave," Bryce said as the door of his studio swung open.
A couple, whom Theora assumed were Bryce's parents walked in.
"So this is where you've hidden yourself," the man said. "Your mother and I were wondering where you went to after you graduated from that damned school."
"I wasn't about to tell you where I went," Bryce snapped at him.
The man suddenly slapped Bryce across the face, hard enough to knock him down.
"That's enough!" Theora shouted. "You're his father! How can you…"
"I'm his stepfather, missy," the man told her. "And I don't think it's any of your business how I deal with this worthless brat."
"I can see why you didn't want to see this bastard, Bryce," Theora said. "And you," she turned to Bryce's mother. "How can you let this man hit your own son like that?"
"He had it coming," Bryce's mother said, offhandedly. "My life improved immensely after he left home."
"You're as bad as your bastard husband," Theora told her.
"It's okay," Bryce said, finally standing. "My life improved after I left home, too."
"You two can get the hell out of here," Theora told them.
"I'm afraid we can't," Bryce's mother pointed out. "The rules stated at least one family member needed to be present."
"Well that may be true," Theora said. "But it won't be either of you."
"Oh?" the man said in a threatening tone. "And how do you plan on solving your little problem?"
"I'll adopt him," Theora said, firmly.
"Theora?" Bryce asked, wonderingly.
"It's clear you don't appreciate him," Theora told the couple. "I'm sure he'll be better off with me. Now, we can do this one of two ways. Either I drag you through the courts and embarrass the hell out of both of you, or you hand over custody right now."
There was a long silence before Bryce's mother looked at him with resentment in her eyes and turned to Theora.
"You want him? You can have him. At least now we don't have to waste the rest of the day."
Bryce stared at Theora, wondering what the hell had just happened. A sense of relief filled him as the couple who'd abused him as a child turned and left his studio.
"Bryce," Theora told him. "I just need to print out the adoption certificate and then we both need to sign it since you're old enough."
Theora was mildly surprised and flattered when Bryce signed the paper as 'Bryce Jones'.
"Now," she said as she turned to Bryce and placed the certificate in her pocket. "Let's go to that party."
CHAPTER TWO: Consequences of Decision
Cheviot was not pleased when Bryce showed up without the couple Cheviot had seen walk into the Network less than an hour earlier.
"Where are your parents?" he demanded. "I know they came here a short time ago. You were specifically told that at least one family member…"
"My mom's here," Bryce said, calmly.
"Don't lie," Cheviot snapped at him.
"I'm not," Bryce said.
"I don't see Mrs. Lynch or her hus-"
"She's not my mother, Ben," Bryce snarled.
Cheviot hated it when the teenager used his first name.
"Bryce," he said firmly.
Theora joined them presently and put a hand on Bryce's shoulder.
"Miss Jones," Cheviot said. "The Network's family gathering will be starting soon and…"
"I know," Theora said, tousling Bryce's hair. "My son and I are looking forward to it."
Bryce smiled up at her, then looked coldly at Cheviot.
"Miss Jones…" Cheviot began, trying to wrap his brain around this new information. "Let me see if I got this right. Out of the blue, you just decided to adopt Bryce."
"Out of the blue, perhaps," Theora told him. "But not without cause. I found things out, which I'd rather let Bryce speak of when he's ready, that I could not just leave as is."
Cheviot noted the bruise on Bryce's cheek. "I think I can guess the issues in question." he said. "Very well. I'll accept the adoption."
"As if you have a choice," Bryce muttered.
"Mr. Lynch…"
"Jones," Bryce corrected him.
"As you wish, Bryce Jones," Cheviot said. "Well, go ahead and enjoy the gathering."
Bryce and Theora walked into the cafeteria where the gathering was being held.
Shawn and Winnie were there with Alyssa who was currently reaching out for Edison's nose.
"Max!" she was saying happily.
"No, honey," Winnie told her. "That's not Max. That's Edison. Ed-i-son."
"Eddy-fur," Alyssa tried.
Max chuckled from his screen.
"There's Max!" Shawn laughed, pointing at the screen.
Winnie turned so Alyssa could see Max Headroom.
"Hi, Shawn," Theora laughed, hugging her brother briefly. "Hi, Winnie. Alyssa."
"Hi, Theora," Shawn said. "So, who's your friend?"
"Shawn, this is my son Bryce." Theora introduced.
"Your what?!" Shawn and Edison both exclaimed.
"Hello, Bryce," Winnie said in the meantime. "Nice to meet you. I'm Theora's sister-in-law Winnie."
"Nice to meet you," Bryce said.
"Theora what the hell is going on?" Edison demanded.
"It's Bryce's right to tell you, not mine," Theora replied.
"You're his mother for crying out loud. Why?" Edison pressed.
"Like I said," Theora repeated, "ask Bryce."
Bryce turned to Edison. "Look closely and I think you can guess the answer."
Edison saw the bruise and nodded. "Yeah. I can guess."
He turned to Theora. "Well, congrats to the new mom, then."
"Theora's…?" Murray asked, having just arrived.
"No, she isn't," Winnie said.
"I adopted Bryce," Theora explained.
Murray wandered off trying to find a less complicated group of people to assuage the headache that was threatening to come on.
"G-g-grandma?" Max asked, looking at Theora.
Bryce laughed along with Edison, Shawn, and Winnie.
Theora put her face in her hands for a second, then started laughing herself.
"Well, I guess that makes Bryce Max's father," Edison remarked.
"Nope. He's my-my-my mother. Mother." Max told them.
"If you say I'm your father…" Edison warned.
"Not to worry, Edison," Bryce said. "We're only technically his parents. I think Max is just having a good time at our expense."
"Not to mention mine," Theora said. She mock-glared at Max. "Grandma indeed!"
"Well," Winnie suggested, "I think we should have our own family gathering. How about next Saturday at the beach?"
"Sounds great," Theora smiled.
"Can we bring Edison along?" Bryce asked, cheerfully.
"Sure. Family and close friends," Theora offered. "You coming Murray?"
"I can't," Murray said. "I'm taking Anni to the fair this weekend."
"Okay," Shawn said. "Well then, it's just me and Winnie, Theora and Bryce, and Edison…. Oh and Max if there's a TV nearby."
"There's always a T-T-T.V nearby," Max said happily.
CHAPTER THREE: FAMILY PICNIC GONE WRONG
The beach was warm and sunny when they arrived late on Saturday morning.
Theora and Winnie spread the blanket on the sand while Edison and Shawn put up the umbrella.
Bryce went down to examine the seashore.
"Careful, Bryce," Theora called to him. "There was an undertow warning this morning,"
"Let him be," Winnie said, calmly. "He's not even in the water. He'll be fine."
"Bryce," Theora called again, "Why don't you turn the TV over here," she pointed at one of the many TVs that were perched on stands throughout the beach, "to Network 23 so Max can join us?"
Bryce sighed and headed back up to the TV. He wondered why Theora just didn't switch it herself.
Turning the TV to Network 23, which was a very easy task, he spoke to the set.
"Max, you there?"
"Ah! Ah! The beach! The sun warms the heart! The water invig- invig- invigorates the body. And the sand gets in your sh-sh-shoes. Not to men-men-mention your…"
"Max!" Edison warned.
"Well, it does," Max protested.
"How would you know?" Theora asked.
"Well, I remem-mem-member a certain trip we took," Max said, eyeing Edison.
"Some other time, Max," Edison said, offhandedly.
"I"m going back to the water," Bryce told them. "I saw a pier down there. I think I can see some of the local marine life a little better from it."
"That pier doesn't look too safe, Bryce," Edison warned, giving it a quick glance. "Stay off it."
Bryce sighed. "Fine," he said in an annoyed tone.
"I mean it," Edison repeated. "Stay off the pier."
"Yes, Edison," Bryce said, wandering back to the water. He crouched down to look at a small crab he'd noticed. He wished he'd thought to stop at an antique store and pick up a book on sea life before coming along so he could identify the little mollusk.
The crab soon got boring, and Bryce looking longingly at the pier, wondering at the fish and plants that swam and lived under and around it. Looking at the blankets, he saw that the others were busy chatting.
"I'm sure it's fine," Bryce said. "The thing only goes out four feet anyhow. Even if it did collapse, I'd just have to stand up."
Bryce stepped onto the pier and walked along it until he was at the edge. Kneeling down, he gazed at the school of small fish, minnows he guessed, it was hard to be sure, swimming by him. Another fish, a little larger, swam by. Bryce smiled. He remembered one of his teachers at ACS talking about going fishing before the world had changed. He guessed it was fish like this one that the man would catch and later eat.
"I wonder what species that was," Bryce said to himself as it swam out of sight. "Well, I guess I should head back before Edison sees me out here and gives me hell."
Bryce started to stand when the pier gave way under the shifting of his body. The board he was standing on broke and he fell into the water.
He tried to find the bottom, but touched nothing.
'A drop-off,' he thought to himself.
He grabbed for the upright post of the dock, but it was too slimy to get a good grip, and the undertow was pulling him away from it too quickly.
Fortunately Edison had heard the splash. In a mixture of anger and panic, he turned and ran for the water, determined not to lose a second friend.
Theora turned to see where Edison was going. She saw the wrecked pier and realized at once what had happened.
"Bryce!" she screamed. "Edison! Save him!"
But neither her newly adopted son nor her best friend could hear her.
By the time Edison arrived at the spot where Bryce had gone under, the teenager was nowhere to be seen. Edison dove and struggled back to the surface several times before finally catching hold of the drowning boy.
Theora ran to the water's edge, Winnie following close behind, while Shawn called for a rescue team.
Moments later, the team arrived.
A diver swam out to where Edison was struggling to bring Bryce back to the shore and pulled them both to safety
Once they were on shore, Edison stepped back while a paramedic performed CPR on Bryce.
Theora rushed over, staring in horror at Bryce.
"Damn it, Bryce," Edison said, in worried anger. "I told you to stay off that pier!"
Bryce was soon breathing again. But he did not sit up, nor did he speak.
"We'd better get him to the hospital," the paramedic said. "Looks like he's gone into shock."
"So much for a family picnic," Edison complained.
"Edison," Theora chastised.
"I told him to stay off the damned pier, but did he listen?"
"Of course not," Shawn told him. "Genius or not, he's still a teenager. Edison, help me put the stuff in the other car. Winnie, take Theora and follow the ambulance."
Winnie turned to Theora. "Come on, Theora. I'll take you to the hospital so we can keep tabs on Bryce."
Theora silently followed Winnie to her pickup truck, leaving the wagon to Edison and Shawn.
They followed the ambulance until it arrived at the nearest medical center. Theora and Winnie rushed to the check-in desk.
"My son was just brought in," Theora said.
"Name?" the receptionist asked.
"Bryce Jones," Theora said. "Personal ident code 7629-AB-double 4-37."
"Incident?"
"Near drowning at Weston," Theora said. "Possible shock."
The receptionist nodded and handed Theora an electric pad. "Just sign here."
Theora signed the pad.
"Have a seat," the receptionist told her. "The doctor will call you."
Winnie led Theora over to a row of chairs where they sat to wait for news of Bryce's condition.
CHAPTER FOUR:
"Theora Jones?" a doctor asked as he stepped into the waiting room.
Theora looked up from her silent contemplation.
The doctor was frowning slightly.
"I'm Dr. Adamson," he said, by way of introduction.
"How is my son?" Theora asked. "Is he okay?"
"His vital signs are normal," the doctor told him. "And there are no physical signs of any brain damage. However, he is currently unresponsive. Now it's normal for a person who has suffered a near-death experience to suffer from shock, so it's best right now to keep him calm and not demonstrate any type of anxiety around him."
"May I see him?" Theora asked.
"Of course," the doctor nodded. He led Theora to Bryce's bedside.
Bryce was in a reclining position, the bed half upright to make him as comfortable as possible.
"Bryce," Dr. Adamson told him, gently, "you have a visitor."
Bryce didn't look at them.
Theora sat on the edge of the bed and careful took his hand.
Bryce just stared at the edge of the ceiling, not saying a word.
"Bryce," Theora said, gently, "I'm very happy I didn't lose you today. I'm not mad at you. I want you to know that."
Bryce gave no indication that he even heard her.
"What's wrong with him?" Theora asked the doctor.
"Traumatic shock," the doctor explained. "I'd like to transfer him to Aberdevine Psychiatric. The doctors there are better equipped to handle cases like your son's."
"They won't dope him up with drugs there, will they?" Theora asked, worriedly.
"I can't say," Dr. Adamson admitted. "However, it is very rare that antipsychotic medication would be used for symptoms of catatonic shock caused by trauma."
"Would I be able to visit him?" Theora asked.
"As long as they had no reason to believe that your visits were causing psychological scarring, I don't see why not," Dr. Adamson replied.
Theora wasn't fond of the idea. But she knew she could not reach her son's mind on her own. And she could not leave him in the state he was in.
"Very well," Theora said. "But if I see any signs of mistreatment, I'm taking him out of there."
Dr. Adamson nodded.
Theora sighed, and with a heavy heart she nodded her head.
"I just want my son back," she told him, as she looked down at Bryce's blank stare. She bent down, kissed Bryce's forehead and whispered. "I'll see you later on."
Then she followed Dr. Adamson to his office.
CHAPTER FIVE: Dr. Bowie
Theora parked her truck in the visitor's lot and ran swiftly to the admissions driveway. She followed the paramedics as they placed Bryce in a wheelchair and brought him into Aberdevine.
Once they were inside, Theora followed them to the admissions office.
"I'm Miss Williams," the woman at the desk said. "I'm the admissions director." She indicated a man in his early thirties with auburn hair and grey eyes. "This is Dr. Bowie. He's our trauma specialist. He'll be working with your," she eyed Theora closely, "son?"
"Yes," Theora explained. "Bryce is adopted."
Miss Williams smiled warmly and nodded. "I have an adopted son also," she told Theora.
"Can you tell me what caused your son's trauma?" Dr. Bowie asked, concernedly.
"We were at the beach on a picnic and he fell off a pier," Theora explained. "He nearly drowned."
"Near-death trauma," Dr. Bowie noted.
"You will be able to make him well, won't you?" Theora asked.
"We will do all that we can," Dr. Bowie assured her. "However, in cases of near-death trauma it's often the patient who must reach out from whatever part of his mind he's trapped inside of. Sometimes it's a comfort zone, sometimes it's a nightmare they can't find their way past."
"Will I be able to visit him," Theora asked.
"I would happily encourage you to do so," Dr. Bowie told her. "However, he might not acknowledge or even be aware of your presence. At least not at first. In time we hope to correct that and have him alert and aware as he was before the accident."
"I hope so," Theora said, worriedly. "I'm not fully happy about having to leave him here."
"I understand completely, Miss Jones," Dr. Bowie assured her. "Despite the changes made in mental health facilities and psychiatry, there are still some stigma attached to spending time in an asylum, even if it is only for a short time. I can assure you that your son will be treated with the utmost care and respect. It is our duty to help our patients recover from mental and emotional trauma as well as reach a comfortable level of normality."
"What is normality?" Theora asked.
"Normality is defined by us as being what was normal for the patient before his or her crisis." Dr. Bowie told her. "After all, what's normal for you might not be normal for me. It's normal for me to shave my face every morning, for example. But for you it would not be."
Theora smiled at this. "May I visit Bryce before I leave?" she asked.
"I'll show you to his room once we're finished the admissions process. "Now tell me, has your son ever imbibed alcohol or experimented with illegal narcotics?"
"Never," Theora said, shaking her head.
"How is he in classes?" Dr. Bowie asked. "Did he get along well with his peers before the accident?"
"Bryce is a graduate of the Academy of Computer Sciences," Theora explained. "He's been working at Network 23 for as long as I've known him."
"So, he's a genius," Dr. Bowie noted. "Tell me, what made you decide to adopt him?"
"His so-called mother just stood by while his stepfather hit him hard enough to knock him over." Theora told him.
"So you suspected he might have been abused," Dr. Bowie asked her. "Was there a difficult custody battle?"
"No," Theora replied. "They actually seemed happy to get rid of him. It's really saddening to see someone treat their own family that way."
"Indeed," Dr. Bowie said as he continued to fill out the paperwork. "This might complicate things. Tell me, how would you describe your son before the accident?"
"Emotionally?" Theora asked.
Dr. Bowie nodded and motioned for her to continue.
"Very closed off," Theora told him. "He wouldn't even admit to having any emotion. Claimed he didn't even dream. Though I seriously doubt that was true."
"Unless he's been forcing himself not to dream," Dr. Bowie said, marking it down. "That could cause serious psychological damage. So we'll have to address it. Anything else I should be aware of?"
"Not that I can currently think of," Theora said.
"Well, you're under a lot of strain right now," Dr. Bowie said. "So it's no surprise you might not be able to remember everything. If you want to add anything to the files later, you may always feel free to call and let us know. Now, let's go see your son."
CHAPTER SIX: Aberdevine
Dr. Bowie stood just inside the door of Bryce's room while Theora sat on the bed beside her son.
"Bryce," Theora said, though she knew he couldn't hear her. "I'm sorry to leave you here. But I'm sure… I hope… that Dr. Bowie and the other staff here will be able to reach you and bring you out from wherever you are now. Then you can come home to me."
She hugged Bryce for a moment, then stood up.
"I'd better go," she said, firmly. "If I don't leave now, it'll be harder for me later."
Dr. Bowie nodded. "I'll show you out," he said.
Theora nodded and followed him to the main lobby.
"Your son will be in good hands with us, Miss Jones," Dr. Bowie promised.
"Thank you," Theora said, as she walked out and went to her truck.
Dr. Bowie returned to his office. He would give Bryce some time to himself before he began their first therapy session.
Aberdevine was a well-respected hospital amongst the medical professionals who recommended it for psychologically damaged patients. The doctors, particularly Dr. Bowie and Dr. Reynolds, were known for their patience and kindness. And the rest of the staff was just as pleasant.
An orderly walked past Bryce's room, paused, and returned.
"You're new, aren't you?" she asked.
Bryce did not reply.
The orderly realized that Bryce was very damaged psychologically and beyond hearing her. But she did not walk away at once. Instead, she smiled warmly at him and said,
"I look forward to talking with you some day,"
before she proceeded to tidy up the room for him.
Dr. Bowie arrived just as she was finishing up.
"I see you've met our new guest, Miss Silvers," Dr. Bowie said. "This is Bryce. He's going to be staying with us during his recovery."
Miss Silvers turned to Bryce. "It's nice to meet you, Bryce." she said, warmly.
Bryce did not respond. But neither Miss Silvers nor Dr. Bowie expected him to.
"Will he be in the next group session?" Miss Silvers asked, wondering if she should get a wheelchair to bring Bryce to the group room.
"I think it would be better to wait a day or two," Dr. Bowie decided. "I'd rather let him adjust to being here. I don't want to yank him out of his current state too quickly or it could cause greater damage. He should go to his therapy session afterward, however." He added thoughtfully. "I don't want to slip any further away."
Dr. Bowie and Miss Silvers left Bryce's room. Miss Silvers went into the next room to tidy up while Dr. Bowie headed for the group room. On the way, he passed one of the nurses.
"There is a new patient in Room 19,," he told her. "His name is Bryce. He's suffering from traumatic shock. He hasn't had a physical examination done here yet, so I'd like you to get his pulmonary readings and temperature."
"Yes, doctor," the nurse replied as she went to Bryce's room.
CHAPTER SEVEN: Therapy Begins
Bryce had been at Aberdevine for three days when Dr. Bowie decided he'd settled in enough to begin therapy. Although he was still not responding to external stimuli, it was clear that he was capable of taking care of his body's needs. He used the bathroom and ate without much fuss, though he did both of these things silently and in a rather mechanical fashion.
An orderly wheeled Bryce into the group room. Dr. Bowie had decided his first attempt at reaching Bryce would be to subject him to harmless but unfamiliar external stimuli in the hope that the unfamiliarity would stimulate his curiosity.
The other patients looked at Bryce with varying degrees of interest. They wondered who the new person in their group was and waited, some calmly, some with agitation, for him to speak.
"This is Bryce," Dr. Bowie told them. "He's new here."
"Can't he speak for himself?" a girl asked.
"Not at this time, Lynda," Dr. Bowie explained. "That's the reason he's here. He had a bad experience and it affected his mind. We're not sure at this time how much of what we're saying or doing is reaching him. But I thought it might be a good idea for us to say hello, just in case he can hear us."
"Oh," Lynda replied. She looked at Bryce. "Hi, Bryce," she said.
The others in the group each said hello, some cheerfully, some tersely.
Bryce did not reply. If he could hear them, he gave no sign of it.
"Let's begin, shall we," Dr. Bowie suggested. "Since it might benefit our new guest, I suggest we start off with a soothing group hypnosis session."
"Excuse me, Dr. Bowie," Miss Adamson said in the doorway. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but you wanted me to let you know when the new staff member, Dr. Richards arrived."
"I'm conducting a group at the moment," Dr. Bowie said, not unkindly. "Have one of the orderlies show him around. I'll be with him in about fifteen minutes."
"Yes, sir," Miss Adamson replied as she left the room.
"Now," Dr. Bowie said, calmly as he dimmed the lights,. "let's begin our session. I want all of you to close your eyes."
As the patients followed his directions, Dr. Bowie spoke. His voice was calm, his tone relaxing.
"I want you to picture yourself in a field. There is a hammock in the field, held up by two trees. Picture yourself climbing into the hammock. The warm sun is shining down on you, relaxing you with its warmth…"
He looked at Bryce, searching for any signs that the hypnosis was reaching him. If hypnosis could calm his mind, it might also be useful in retrieving him from his catatonic state. If not, they could try other options.
He only hoped they could avoid the more dramatic options. The brain this boy's trauma had locked away was allegedly brilliant. Anything that risked the destruction of that brilliance was something to be avoided at all costs.
He could see no sign of change in Bryce's demeanor, however. But it did not concern him unduly. Bryce had only been there for three days now. And his young mother, Theora, had mentioned that he'd never dreamed. Or at least claimed he never did. So it was likely he would get more out of the doctor's soothing tones than the description of the quiet and peaceful setting he was describing.
Bryce sat there in his wheelchair, unaware of where he was or why. In his mind, he could see only a wall of water around him and above him. The water stretched forever in all directions, dark and blurry, leaving him with no sense of direction.
His mind panicked. He wanted to cry for help. But the water would down him if he tried. So all he could do was wait for someone to pull him to the surface.