Chapter Three: Take It To The Limit
Session One
Roberta Cochanski ended up recovering from her injury. She had suffered only a minor contusion, and the blood loss was not as Jonathan had initially thought. For that, he was grateful. But he would not let history repeat itself. Three days later, he stood in his lab space, and Herman Shoop sat in the chair in front of him. The balding, fat man wore an ill-fitting brown suit, and was sweating profusely. God, what a slob. But Jonathan was not here to judge the man. He was here to alleviate the man's fears. So, Jonathan reached into his lab coat and pulled out a photograph of an elevator. Then he showed it to Herman.
"How does this image make you feel, Herman?" Jonathan asked.
"N-nervous," Herman replied, his lower lip trembling as he gripped the chair's arms.
"Of course," Jonathan said. "But why are you so nervous? This is just an inanimate object. It can't hurt you, because it can't even move."
Herman gulped down his fear before speaking. "I'm afraid it will p-plummet to the basement if I get on it. Th-then the other pass … passengers will crush me to death."
Jonathan rubbed his chin as he considered the man's fear. Then he told him, "Actually, in that scenario, the fall would probably kill you. The other passengers would just add insult to injury. But never mind that. The odds of such a catastrophe are minuscule—one in 10,440,000, to be precise. Now, repeat after me. 'It is safe to ride in an elevator. It is safe to ride in an elevator.'"
"It is s-safe to ride in an elevator," Herman repeated. "It is safe to ride in an elevator."
"Good," Jonathan said in praise. "Now, repeat this mantra at home, while staring at a photograph of an elevator. Tomorrow morning, return to my lab, and Ms. Quinzel will escort you to a real elevator. Won't you, Ms. Quinzel?"
Jonathan and Herman turned to the observation window, and Harleen smiled and gave them two-thumbs up.
"You see?" Jonathan assured Herman. "We are all friends here. And friends don't let harm come to each other. I will see you tomorrow morning, then, Mr. Shoop. Bright and early."
"Yes," Herman said, nodding. "See you then."
The fat man's knees shook as he stood from his chair, and he half-stumbled toward the door. Then he reached it and ambled through. While Herman walked up the hallway, Jonathan entered the observation room and smiled at Harleen.
"I can trust you to be alone with our patient, Ms. Quinzel?" Jonathan asked.
"Sure thing, Doc," she said, flashing him a carefree smile in return. Her hands were behind her back, and she was rocking back and forth on her heels. "Herman will be as safe as an egg in a mama bird's nest. You can count on me."
"I certainly hope so," Jonathan said with a warning tone. "The man's blood will be on your hands if any ill befalls him. And you already know how that really feels, so I can assume you'll wish to avoid that outcome. Still, although I trust you, I will remain in contact with you throughout the session. You have the special glasses?"
"Right here!" Harleen chirped, pulling them out of her coat pocket and waving them back and forth.
"Good. You will wear them during the session tomorrow, as well as your earpiece. In turn, I will wear mine. You're dismissed."
With a skip in her step, Harleen exited the observation room, then the lab entirely. Jonathan took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. He was putting great faith in a mostly-untested assistant, and he dearly hoped she came through for him. Time would tell, he supposed. Time would tell.
Session Two
Harleen stood with Herman in front of an elevator. Through the feed from her glasses, Jonathan saw Harleen turn her head to look at the man. Herman was sweating profusely, but appeared to be calmer than he had been the previous day. He wore the same brown suit—out of habit or poverty, Jonathan didn't know. He also didn't particularly care. All Jonathan cared about was seeing this man overcome his deep-seated fear.
"If it'll make you feel better, you can hold my hand," Harleen offered to Herman. "I don't bite."
Herman hesitantly reached out to Harleen's pale, slender fingers, then grasped them tightly.
"Think you'll be okay gettin' on this thing?" Harleen warmly asked him.
Herman swallowed nervously, then quickly nodded.
"Hmmm," Harleen mused. "Okay, Doc, I'm about ta press the 'Up' button."
She did so, and the numbers above the elevator lit up, one by one. First four, then three, then two, then one, and finally "B" for basement. The car's doors opened, and a black male orderly in scrubs stepped out and walked up the hallway. Harleen briskly escorted Herman into the car, before the man could change his mind. They turned around to face the doors, which slowly closed upon them. Gradually, Herman began to hyperventilate.
"Up or down?" Harleen kindly asked.
"Neither," Herman gasped. "Get me out of this thing. Please!"
Harleen turned to look at him, and the man looked absolutely panicked. He fixed Harleen with a pleading stare, and she nodded.
"Okay, friend, we'll vamoose," she said, then pressed the button that opened the doors. As Herman panted beside her, Harleen led both of them out of the elevator.
"Excellent work, Ms. Quinzel," Jonathan said into his headset, as he reflexively leaned forward in his office chair. Placing his arms on his desk, he began tapping a pencil atop its surface. "You're responding well to our patient, and he to you."
"Thanks, Doctah C.," Harleen replied. "We're headed your way."
When the pair returned to Jonathan's office, he examined Herman's demeanor and complexion for any signs of lingering stress. Sweat still glistened on the man's brow, and he was still breathing heavily, but the brunt of his anxiety seemed to have passed.
"How are you feeling?" he asked Herman, as Harleen shot Herman a worried look.
"Better," Herman replied, wiping the sweat from his brow. "But being in there, it … it was just too much for me."
Jonathan steepled his fingers and placed them against his lips. Removing them, he told Herman, "When you arrive home, I want you to shut yourself into a lit, empty closet. Stay there until you begin to feel faint, then quickly exit into the adjacent room or hallway."
"And … and how will that help?" Herman asked, with a perplexed look on his face.
"Pretend the closet is an elevator, and you might be able to alleviate your fear of simply being inside of one," Jonathan suggested. "On its own, after all, an elevator is just another room. It is the cable-and-pulley system that makes it a sort of car."
Herman nodded in seeming understanding. "Okay, Doc, I'll try that. Am I done for the day?"
"Yes, you're dismissed."
Herman nodded to Harleen and said nervously, "Thank you for your help. I think I'm getting better at facing my fear."
"Glad to be of service," Harleen said with a chipper smile. "See you tomorrow."
Herman left Jonathan's office, then closed the door behind him. Curiously, Harleen stared at him until the door was shut. When she turned to look back at Jonathan, she had a puzzled look on her face.
"What?" she asked him.
"What do you mean 'what'?" he replied.
"You were lookin' at me kinda funny, like you were jealous, or somethin'," she replied warily.
"Jealous?" he asked. "No, you must have been reading too much into my expression. I was merely observing your concern for our patient. It is just concern, correct? You're not experiencing any emotional transference, or anything of the sort?"
"'Course not," Harleen said dismissively. "The guy seems sweet and all, but he's still a slob."
"I'm glad you feel that way," Jonathan said with a smile. "Keep that emotional distance from him, and you'll do just fine. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see ya, Doc," Harleen said, in that same puzzled manner.
Jonathan watched her leave, then stared at the door even after she had closed it behind her. Jealousy? Absurd. Though, he couldn't deny that he felt something for her. A certain stirring—of what, he could not say. Perhaps he needed to observe himself as closely as he observed Harleen and Herman. Yes, that would be wise.
Session Three
As they had on the day before, Harleen and Herman stood in front of an elevator.
"Are you ready?" she asked him seriously. "'Cause if you ain't, you don't have to go through with this. You can back out any time, just say the word."
"No, I'm ready," Herman said, though he clearly looked nervous. "Let's ride this thing."
"Now you're talkin'," Harleen replied happily, and she pressed the "Up" button for the elevator.
As they waited for the car doors to open, Jonathan watched anxiously from his office. This was their biggest test yet. Herman would be pushing himself to his limit, and would depend on Harleen to support him if he did not succeed in suppressing his fear. Jonathan's confidence in her had grown in the past several days, but he still worried that she would fail in her duties.
The car doors opened, and Harleen and Herman stepped inside. They turned to face the doors as they closed in front of them, and Herman exhaled a panicky sigh. After a jolt, the car rose, one floor, then two.
"Yer doin' fine," Harleen assured Herman. "And I'm right here to catch you if anythin' happens."
Harleen turned to look at him, and the man flashed her a nervous smile. Looking down, she saw his outstretched hand, and she reached over to take it in her own.
Suddenly, the elevator car opened, and three people began walking toward it. One was a middle-aged, heavyset nurse, with her grey hair tied back in a bun. The second was a slender young man wearing a grey business suit and navy blue tie. The third was a thickly-built, black male orderly (though not the one from the day prior; this one was older, and his scalp was shaved completely bare). After the three new passengers had stepped inside, the doors closed, and the car began to rise once more.
"If you want, we can get off at the next floor," Harleen offered. "I imagine this must be nerve-wrackin' for ya."
"No, I want to ride this out," Herman said, then chuckled. "Literally."
Jonathan couldn't decide if the man was brave or foolish. Perhaps a bit of both. But as he continued to watch through Harleen's lenses, he could see that Herman was breathing more heavily, and the man's face had begun to pale. The elevator opened, and the other passengers exited the car. Only Harleen and Herman remained. The doors closed, and the car began its descent back to the basement. Herman appeared to be calming down, and emitted a relieved laugh as he wiped his sweaty brow.
"You did it!" Harleen exclaimed happily. "I'm proud of ya, pal."
"Thanks," Herman said with a nervous smile.
But then the man's eyes rolled back into his head, and he fainted.
Harleen acted swiftly. As the man began to fall, she grabbed him underneath his armpits and gently lowered him to the floor. Then she immediately pressed the button for the building's first level. The elevator car slowed as it approached that level, and then the doors opened. With great effort, Harleen grabbed Herman's legs and dragged him out of the elevator. A shocked young nurse spotted the pair, and came rushing over.
"My God, is he all right?" she asked, her brown eyes wide with fear. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Maybe get a cold washcloth or somethin'?" Harleen replied, a bit unsure. "I think I can wake him up."
"Okay, I'll be right back."
With that promise, the nurse ran back up the hallway, her shoulder-length brown hair swaying behind her. Harleen quickly grasped Herman's legs and raised them to a ninety-degree angle, so the blood could flow more quickly back to his brain. Jonathan felt himself on edge as the minutes passed with excruciating slowness. Finally, Herman's eyes fluttered open. The nurse returned a minute later, clutching a damp washcloth.
"Thank you," Harleen told her as she snatched the cloth from the nurse's hand. The nurse nodded, then departed.
Harleen pressed the cloth to Herman's forehead as the man began to adjust to his new surroundings.
"What happened?" he asked, disoriented. "I fainted, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but don't beat yerself up over it," Harleen urged him. "It happens to the best of us."
Herman nodded, even though Harleen had clearly lied to him. Still, it was an acceptable lie, because it put the man's mind at ease. Right then, that was what he needed. After a short while, Herman stood, and Harleen escorted him to the stairs that led down into the basement. Wise decision. Jonathan was sure that Herman had had enough of elevators for one day.
When Harleen and Herman arrived in Jonathan's office, Jonathan rose from his chair and walked over with an extended hand.
"Congratulations, Mr. Shoop," Jonathan said as he tightly gripped Herman's hand between both of his own. "You far exceeded my expectations. More importantly, I am sure that you exceeded your own, as well."
"Yes, thank you, Doctor Crane," Herman said with relief, then turned to smile at Harleen. "And thank you."
"Ah, it was nothin'," Harleen demurred with a wave of her hand, as Herman stared at her like a love-struck idiot. "I was just doin' my job."
"Maybe, but I couldn't have gotten through that without you," Herman insisted. "You're an angel."
"Oh, stop," Harleen said bashfully, and she was blushing red. Certainly she was not attracted to this man? No, she had called him a slob on the day prior, and Jonathan was sure that was still the case. Perhaps she simply enjoyed the man's adoration. That would have made much more sense.
Herman bowed to them both, then left Jonathan's office. Once the door cleared behind him, Jonathan cleared his throat.
"Good work, Ms. Quinzel," he said to Harleen, and she responded with grateful smile. "You are quickly becoming a valuable assistant to my work."
"You're welcome, Doc," Harleen replied, but then a nervous pall suddenly fell over her face. "But speakin' of assisting, Dr. Arkham offered me the opportunity to interview The Joker. And I've accepted."
A surge of rage suddenly swelled up within Jonathan's body. His face contorted in anger, he shouted, "You what?!"
"Hey, calm down, Doc," Harleen urged with a nervous chuckle. "It's just a meetin', and a supervised one at that. It's not like we're going on a date, or nothin'."
"You might as well be," Jonathan replied with restrained anger. "That man's charisma can win over even the strongest of minds and hearts. I urge—no, I insist—that you proceed with utmost caution. You must not smile at his compliments. You must not laugh at his jokes. If you let your guard down for even a second, he will exploit that weakness. And then he will have you. And then I will have lost you—forever."
"Geez, dramatic much?" Harleen replied with disgust. "Anyway, you ain't my father. You can't tell me what to do. I'm meetin' him, whether you like it or not."
"Please, consider my warning," Jonathan pleaded, an almost desperate note to his voice. "That's all I ask."
"Whatever," Harleen said flippantly. Then she turned on her heels and walked out of his office, closing the door behind her.
The fool. The stupid, overconfident fool. She had no idea what she was about to face. But she would soon find out. And this time, Jonathan wouldn't be around to help her.