The Cabinet of Dr. Héderváry
Chapter 3
I rise early to find the dining room empty and Arthur in charge of the kitchen. He seems calmer this morning, although the thick eyebrows give him a menacing air. I order an omelette and sit down to wait.
A few minutes later, a rotten smell drifts in from the kitchen, followed swiftly by the peal of the fire alarm. Sprinklers come on in the kitchen. Following emergency procedures I leave through the patio doors, assembling with the others – in varying states of wakefulness – in the garden. A quick headcount by Dr. Héderváry reveals the absence of Arthur. She rushes headlong into the building, returning a short while later with a smile.
"False alarm, everyone. Please go back to your rooms." She waits by the doorway, gently touching my arm as I pass. "Just a tip. If Arthur's serving, take the cold buffet."
The doctor must have awoken earlier than me, presentable as she is. She wears a skirt suit in black, with a soft orange jumper to match a flower clip in her hair. I wonder why she has hired a chef who can't cook. It is by no means the most contradictory thing about the clinic, just another anomaly in a whole catalogue.
"I'll see you at half past nine, if that suits you?" Dr. Héderváry asks. I had almost forgotten I had agreed to be her test subject. I have a feeling that what suits Dr. Héderváry must also suit the patient, and acquiesce. With luck the session will not be too revealing. If she just wishes to talk about my article, and show me some pictures, I can cope with that. And she's right. The best way to write about her therapy, whether it works or not, is to experience it first hand.
Duly resolved, I find my way to her treatment room at the appointed hour. The door is open. I knock, pushing it open a little, to find her already seated at her desk. She indicates the chaise longue. "Please, sit. How did you sleep, Honda-san?"
The truth is my dreams were troubled, full of predators and never-ending labyrinths. I merely respond "Well, thank you. I trust you did the same."
She smiles. "That's good. I hear you have been settling in well."
"Ah. I do have some concerns about a minority of the staff…"
"Really?" She cocks her head to one side. The tone is inquisitive rather than unbelieving.
"The two chefs…" I try to choose my words carefully. "One appears modestly lacking in skill, and the other is… free with his emotions… I believe last night he tried to…"
"Ah, those two?" She is relaxed, as if this is a familiar line of conversation. "Did you know they were the ones responsible for S.'s distress? I called them as soon as I discovered their identities."
A horrified expression creeps across my face. "Then not only have you brought her face to face with her tormentors, but you have a confirmed sexual abuser on staff?" I would like to stand up and leave, however politeness requires I cannot.
Dr. Héderváry holds up a hand. "By seeing them in a position subservient to her, S. was able eventually to come to terms with her past. In academic circles we call it 'getting even'."
I wonder exactly which academic circles she has been mixing in. So far I doubt that any of her methods have passed a reputable peer review. "But Francis…"
"He's impotent. He can't do anything worse than make empty threats at present. I'm trying to persuade him back into therapy, but…" She sighs, spreading her hands, as if that gesture will explain it all. "Still, we can talk about le monsieur effronté later. The next hour is Kiku-time, yes?" I can but nod, my face frozen in fear.
She asks me to sign a disclaimer. I assume this is regarding the taping of our sessions, however the document is lengthy and I ask if it would be possible to return it tomorrow. She is thankfully happy with this. I hope there will be a loophole to rescue me from this situation.
"Are you happy sitting? Some people prefer to lie down. I guess they just don't like looking at my face." She laughs, but I can understand how it may be easier to talk personally without holding another's gaze. However, I remain seated, the better to preserve control.
"How should we proceed?" I ask, slightly puzzled, but eager to get this over with.
She's still smiling, friendly and open. "You talk. I listen."
"What should I talk about? Do you wish to hear of my ancestry?"
"Anything you want, Kiku. You don't need to be too personal. We're just having a friendly chat."
I sit for maybe ten minutes, maybe ten hours, trying to think of something necessary to tell this woman. She sits, sipping a coffee, watching a scrap of paper fluttering in the breeze from the air conditioning vent. I envy her patience.
"I… had a friend once." Why this should be momentous enough to deserve vocalisation, I do not know. I just struggled to find words, and out it came. Dr. Héderváry looks at me, encouraging.
"We shared things. Language, culture… We learned from each other. I had been alone for so long, I had forgotten how valuable a good friendship could be." I pause, marshalling my thoughts. The doctor does not interrupt, she just absorbs my words as a soft towel after a long hot bath.
"His name was Heracles. We grew close. He was not demanding, or brash like so many others. He sought nothing but mutual understanding." It grows easier to talk. I realise I miss that feeling, of being able to confide in another without fear. I suppose this is why I carry on.
"I have not seen him lately. I believe I had grown complacent. Perhaps I cut him out of my life as an unnecessary distraction." This cannot be the whole truth. I used to be able to be comfortably silent in his presence, and he in mine.
I remember visiting his house one hot summer. We had gone for a walk amid the ruins of his once-great land. Underestimating the time we had spent, we found ourselves caught out in the afternoon sun, exhausted, sticky and unable to walk any further. We settled down in the shade of a great stone archway, the marble thankfully still cool to the touch. Heracles dozed while I read my guidebook. After resting, I wandered alone through the vast columns, recording for posterity the labours of Heracles' predecessors on my digital camera. Arriving home some weeks later, my most treasured picture was the last, Heracles asleep in the cradle of his ancestors. I still don't know where the cats came from.
I realise I have been silent for some time. Dr. Héderváry prompts. "Was he your first true friend?"
I struggle to remember. Sometimes I feel so old. "There was one other who thought to call me friend. When I was a child, I was raised by a friend of the family. He schooled me, provided me with clothes and food, helped me to grow. One day when I felt strong enough I tried to kill him." I narrate matter-of-factly. I am sure the memory must have been painful for me in the past. Now I feel nothing except the effort of recall.
The doctor doesn't even raise an eyebrow. "Do you know why?"
"I think… because he was older than me, because I resented his superiority. I thought I was entitled to more. I was idealistic enough to believe I could rule the world if I so wished, and practical enough to observe that enemies must be made in the course of such action."
"Do you still feel that way now?" She is taking notes, subtly, behind the desk.
"My outlook has changed. As you yourself note, there is room for many different kinds of people in this world. Thankfully my regrettable actions when young led to little lasting damage."
"Have you spoken to him since?"
"I hope that one day he will forgive me." The words sound hollow to me after all this time.
"I'll take that as a no." She makes another note, then looks up. "Were you afraid you would eventually treat Heracles the same way?"
The thought had not occurred to me, and I tell the doctor so. I don't intend to entertain the possibility.
"Okay. Now, were you sexually intimate with either of these 'friends'?"
"It never happened!" I can't help but blush at her bluntness. I slept beside Heracles once, his breath on my face inducing fevered dreams I chased from my head upon awakening. Would I like to have acted on impulse? I cannot say. Such impulses come rarely to me.
I think Dr. Héderváry knows she has pushed too far. She clicks the top of her pen and puts away the notebook.
"Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Honda-san." I assume the session is over now we are back to the formal address. "I know it can be painful sometimes. If you want to get revenge, find me at lunchtime. Ask me anything. Think up something nice and juicy!" She laughs.
Although I have discovered nothing new about myself, I feel the session has taught me a little about Dr. Héderváry. She relishes human contact and understanding, and genuinely cares about her charges. What she is hoping to achieve is a world where all can be appreciated and celebrated. Equality through acceptance. Sadly we are not all so broad-minded.