sc. 2
Wake up, wake up, wake up!... Ain't ya gonna wake up?
Jared nearly jumped out of his skin. Here it was, again, the strange, falsetto voice that kept taunting him. Sometimes it came from a bird perched on the window sill or it seemed to come out of a crate in the barn. It followed him wherever he went, always piping up about the silliest things, pointing out the ugliest aspects of the people he met, repeating to him that he had to stop thinking altogether, because everybody could see what he was thinking and how stupid he was.
There had been times when he had shouted at this voice to shut up, just to shut up, leave him in peace, but it kept bouncing around him with its nerve-racking laugh. He had tried to smash it with whatever furniture or heavy object he could handle, but relying only on his ears to locate it, it was downright impossible to beat the hell out of that evil... what was it, exactly? Jared had no idea, but one thing he knew was that this malevolent, immaterial voice was driving him crazy!
Today was no exception. Jared tried hard to ignore it as he prepared for Church.
Gonna be late, gonna be late, he he he, it cackled, and everybody will look at you, laugh at you, point their fingers and say that you're so, soooooo dumb. Idiot, idiot, idiot! it chanted.
Jared trembled with barely contained fury. He could handle it when the voice only prattled about trivial things, however annoying it was to be forced to listen to it. Once, he had crammed swabs of cotton in his ears, thinking that it would suffice to stop it from constantly grating on his nerves. Not only did it not work at all, but it had obviously vexed the voice, which had become even more relentless, barely allowing him to any decent sleep for weeks.
Yet, when the voice was tormenting him like today, it was well-nigh impossible to withstand its abuse. Jared was already at the end of his tether by the time the clock struck eight. He howled as if in agony, took hold of the only chair he had not broken yet and started chasing after the invisible devil, who only laughed nastily at his vain attempts. After a few minutes of this wild-goose chase, Jared stormed out of the house to escape from that debilitating torment. He careened heedlessly into the woods, as if Satan itself was on his heels, never stopping to catch his breath, driven by a frenzied dread that seemed to have no way out.
The sudden ringing of a church bell stopped him dead in his tracks. To Jared's harassed soul, had never anything sounded so heavenly than in this moment of desperation. As if mesmerized, he turned around and ran toward this God-sent beckoning of safety. A church surely would provide him with a secure shelter from whatever evil was haunting him. When the ringing stopped, Jared felt lost, abandoned. "No! Noooooo!" he bellowed desperately, running impossibly faster. Within minutes, he came out of the woods, and immediately spotted the church. He rushed towards it, until he finally collapsed on its steps, breathless.
Ha ha ha! Ya really thought ya could get rid of me that easy, didn't ya? You such a halfwit, ya fool!
Jared bellowed again, scrambling to his feet, and almost broke down the church door in his mad dash inside. He barely felt all eyes on him as he threw himself at the preacher's feet, panting, moaning pitifully: "Stop, stop, make 'em stop, please Rev', make 'em stop!" But the next thing he knew was a large number of ominous shadows hovering over him; cold, long, bony hands reaching for him to grab and turn him over; ugly, distorted faces leaned toward him, their gaping mouths twisted in monstrous, cruel grins and chanting a loud, primeval-sounding mumbo jumbo. In utter terror, Jared screamed and thrashed about, trying to shake off the hold 'they' had on him, but he could not, for his panic, rather than fueling his fighting instinct, seemed to sap any energy he had left.
Jared… Jared? Look at me… that's it, you just look at me. Nobody's gonna hurt you, I promise.
Suddenly his nightmare receded, and he could only see, and hear, the angel who was presently bent over him, her soft hazel eyes brimming with compassion, her blond hair glowing like an aura. He finally quieted down, as the angelic being next to him seemed to fend off the terrifying creatures that had tried to get him.
A mere few minutes later - or were they seconds… or hours? he really could not tell - another feminine face, this time haloed with flames and her features set in an unforgiving scowl, approached him. He barely had time to register that she had a syringe in her hand before he felt the needle piercing the flesh of his arm, and then…
Nothing. His eyes slipped shut on their own volition, and he felt his body and mind float away into complete senselessness.
"What's the Hell…?" someone shouted. Yet so stunned was the congregation that nobody even frowned or protested at the blasphemy. A few children, Katie included, were crying, frightened by the commotion.
Michaela's eyes met Andrew's. Her new son-in-law looked deeply troubled by the perturbing scene that had just occurred, most of all by Colleen's role in it. Michaela could also sense the congregation's shocked reaction, but as far as she was concerned, Jared's behavior merely brought forth grim memories of the days she had spent in the asylums and the almshouses of Boston, doing her best to care for the unfortunate souls who had ended up there, some after years of prison, neglect, abuse of all sorts, their minds damaged beyond recovery. She could only hope that Jared's spectacular delirium was a unique occurrence, and that after some rest, he would be restored to his usual, happy-go-lucky self.
"What's wrong with him?" Jake asked imperiously, eyeing her mistrustfully. She could read his thoughts quite easily: Jake obviously did not want another fiasco like the one with Martin. He also looked as shaken as the rest of the townspeople. Most of them were pale-faced and tight-lipped. She quirked her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders to signify that she could not deliver a precise diagnosis until she knew more about the circumstances.
She turned around, craning her neck to get a glimpse of Mrs. McAllister, whom she had spotted earlier in one of the back pews. Jared's mother seemed on the verge of fainting, but as long as she was not going into hysterics, she could wait till her son was settled in the clinic to be cared for. Michaela beckoned Matthew, Daniel and some other men to lift to Jared's listless body.
"Could you please take him to the clinic, gentlemen?" she queried. As she stood up, she came face-to-face with Colleen. Upset was written all over the young woman's face, still she maintained her composure as she asked:
"Do you have any idea what's happened to him, Ma? What could have put him in such a... state?"
Michaela was torn. Oh yes, she had a fair idea, she had seen this kind of things often enough! Yet, she pondered telling Colleen straight off what she thought about it. Her daughter was no doubt familiar with sickness, death, pain of losing a patient, powerlessness at helping another... But Jared was a friend of Colleen's, and Michaela was not sure her daughter was ready to cope with seeing someone she cared about waste away, less than a year after losing her best friend Becky.
Seeing her mother hesitate, Colleen demanded:
"Ma, the truth!"
"I'm not sure yet," Michaela answered reluctantly, "I still need to learn more about how he's been doing these last few hours, the last few days, too. For all we know, he can simply be reacting to something toxic or it could be a cerebral tumor... The only thing I'm sure of is that Jared isn't drunk, I would have smelled it on his breath."
Taking her mother's arguments at face value, Colleen nodded in acknowledgment then turned around to join Andrew, who was ensuring that Jared's mother was recovering from the ordeal, as well as some other shocked ladies.
Michaela took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and followed the men out of the church.
At the Clinic, Michaela had Jared settled in on the downstairs recovery room. A few minutes later, the young man's mother turned up. Eyeing her pale face and trembling lips, Michaela knew better than to press her with questions right away, it could wait until the sedative she hade given Jared wore off, unless Mr. McAllister, who had been sent for, could provide some information. Colleen had also sought Paul Jameson, Jared's closest friend, for any piece of information about Jared's whereabouts and behavior of late.
Paul could not provide much, as he confessed that he had not seen his friend in weeks.
"Besides", the young man added as he ruffled his hair embarrassedly, "we had a… sorta fallin' out, last time I saw him. Been helpin' him build his homestead, was supposed to be his best man for his weddin' and all… but, I dunno what happened, he broke things off with Susie, stopped visitin' any of us, and when I went to see 'em, he barely said a word, and got mad as a hornet when I asked him what was goin' on, threw me out. We've all left him be ever since, I guess."
Michaela and Andrew exchanged concerned glances which did not get past Colleen.
"What is it? What do you think?" the young woman asked, her eyes darting back and forth from one doctor to the other.
"Well it appears that, prior to this… fit, Jared has exhibited signs of social withdrawal, from his friends, his own fiancée…" Michaela enunciated.
"What does it mean?" Colleen pressed anxiously.
"It can have different meanings, actually…"
"But?"
"But…" Michaela sighed, unsure about divulging her suspicions before she could ascertain her diagnosis. Though her doctoring instinct pointed in a definite direction, it was still too early to state anything out loud, for there were still chances that it might be something else, like she had said earlier. Jared's moody, withdrawn behavior might be a coincidence, for all they knew! "We need to obtain more information, see how Jared is going to behave once he comes around. Maybe he will be able to tell us more about his symptoms."
"So you think he's gonna be better when he wakes up? That… whatever happened in Church was only temporary?"
"I'm not sure of anything, Colleen…"
"What about you, Andrew?" The young woman turned her husband. "Surely you know something, don't you?"
Andrew shrugged noncommittally. "I haven't had much experience in this field of medicine, you know… My knowledge is mostly theoretical…"
"But you suspect somethin', both of you. I can see it! Ma, you told me that you spent a lot of time in asylums, back when you were in medical school, you must've seen folks with this kind of behavior, right?"
Michaela reluctantly nodded. "I have, Colleen, but as I said, I don't have enough elements right now to even venture a prognosis. We must keep a close watch on Jared, then collect as much information about his behavior, and for how long. In this case, a misdiagnosis could have terrible consequences on his life."
Colleen shuddered: "I guess that why a doctor shouldn't treat family and friends." Her mother gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, before she went out in search of the patient's father.