The overstuffed chair in Oliver's study was a good place to sit, to steeple ones fingers in front of one's nose and think of oneself in the third person. As arrogant as that sounds, it is actually very humbling if one had been written by one's creator to be emotionally disadvantaged. The down side, if taken to extreme it leads to schizophrenia. The up side did offer the advantage of clarity when one was faced with a troubling yet stimulating dichotomy. Oliver O'Toole's dichotomy was blonde, had laughing eyes, and the unnerving ability to erase years of studious discipline and leave him gasping like a fool. It had been proven - there were witnesses - that when Shane McInerney was around, Denver had a new village idiot. Mr. O'Toole had actually been seen smiling at work.
Scandalous.
"He is flabbergasted again," MIND said, wringing hands together with confusion. HE was standing in the gloom behind Oliver's eyes and watching what the man did.
"Flabbergasted? Really?" a badly bruised EGO chuffed from somewhere behind MIND.
"Yes," MIND said. "Flabbergasted, verb, past tense. Synonyms are astonish, dumbfound, befuddle."
"Now I can see befuddle, for sure. She certainly does that to him of late."
"No," ID added quietly from the shadows. "The word is 'twitter-patted', the magical incantation of an animated rabbit. He is twitter-patted by her."
EGO smiled and nodded. MIND rubbed his jaw, thinking about the word.
"He is picking up the remote to the stereo," EGO warned. "It's to be Scheherazade. You all know what that means, the fourth is going to show up. I'm telling you, SHE will walk in here like SHE owns the place."
"Portent of doom," ID said from the deeper shadows behind Oliver O'Toole's eyes. OF the four, ID was the one most likely to go over-the-top on the drama scale and the other two had actually referred to HIM as 'queen' on more than one occassion. Music filled the soul of Oliver O'Toole, the passionate strains of Scheherazade. ID closed his eyes and released and exaggerated sigh. "SHE is the personification of all things that go bump in the night. Gives me the willys for sure."
"Willys? Flutters, wobbles, why not just say she frightens you."
"Palpitations is a good word," MIND offered without turning. "And just so YOU know, I think SHE inspires."
"Did I hear my middle name?" MUSE asked as she walked up behind MIND, her perfume a cloying temptation that reached for his nostrils like a living thing. She stood close enough that she was touching his arm. Barely. Tantalizingly. Wonderfully. MIND shivered as a wave of the willys washed over him.
Unlike the other three parts of Oliver's emotional matrix, MUSE was female, blonde, had blue eyes, and looked not surprisingly like Shane McInerney. SHE was also the newest addition to said matrix.
'It's MIND's fault," EGO said. "HE brought HER in the day he met HER at the coffee stand and SHE's never left. SHE captivated him with a brilliant mind and those laughing eyes. Very quiet at first, I think more of a curiosity than inspiration."
"I didn't do it intentionally," MIND said. "But YOU have to admit SHE has grown on all of us."
"I'm calling obsession," EGO stated flatly.
"Am I an obsession?" MUSE asked, running one hand across the back of EGO's neck. EGO trembled for a moment and then sat down, humming a note one octave below middle "C" while flipping his index finger rapidly between his lips to make a musical motorboat. MUSE twisted HER lips at one corner of HER mouth the same way that the McInerney person did.
"Great," ID said. "Now EGO is befuddled and we've lost the engine that drives this emotional disaster."
"It's not obsession," MIND said.
"It's not a disaster," EGO added with a smile at MUSE.
"No, YOU wouldn't use a word like 'disaster'. YOU would say something very Jane Austen, like smitten," ID replied. "Oh, Oliver O'Toole is smitten."
"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun." MIND quoted.
"Stop with the Austen already."
"I have found the one whom my soul loves."
"And now with the Bible?"
MIND leaned close to MUSE and whispered for HER ear only. "You have captured my heart, my treasure, my bride. You hold it hostage with one glance of your eyes, with a single jewel of your necklace."
MUSE turned with a smile. EGO was still babbling to himself on the floor, drooling. She walked to ID.
"Why do you fear me?"
ID blushed a deep scarlet and MIND gasped audibly in the space between Oliver O'Toole's ears. Such a thing had never happened before.
"I know you're not going to surrender and babble like EGO," SHE cooed. "Too strong, and I know why you fear me." SHE stepped closer and ID shrank back. MUSE nodded. "This," SHE said, pointing the deep, gaping wound ID carried across his body. "This is why you fear, why you pull away. This is why you seed so much confusion into MIND. YOU steal HIS words and tie HIS tongue. Don't YOU know that a touch from love will heal you all? That love is your destiny? Do you know why MIND brought ME in here the day we met at the coffee cart? And why HE isn't afraid? Because HE knows what YOU choose to ignore. God is first and foremost love, and "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." As much as all the egos and ids in the world try, that cannot alter the words that God has spoken."
MUSE smiled, recognizing the longing on ID's face, the face of the subconscious starving for love. "Just give it time, fearful one," she said softly. "YOU already know the truth even if YOU won't admit it in front of them."
"Ooh," MIND said suddenly. "He's moving."
MUSE moved quickly to his side, EGO stopped drooling and got to his feet, eager to see what the body of Oliver O'Toole was going to do. ID quietly stepped backward, further into the shadows, hiding.
MUSE started clapping her hands with glee. "He's going to the phone. He's calling her to chit chat."
"Don't you mean converse?" MIND asked with a smile.
Oliver dialed Shane's number and waited while she answered. "Hello Shane? Nothing. I just – just wanted to hear your voice."