THE CUCKOO'S EGG

by Galen Hardesty

CHAPTER TEN

THE SLOUGH OF DESPOND

~*~

As Helen parked in front of Dr. Drake's office, a woman came out his door and bounded off across the lawn. She was wearing the flowered print blouse and light blue slacks that marked her as one of Drake's staff, but the collar of her blouse was on top of her head, and she was showing considerable midriff. She was flapping her arms and making noises that might have been intended as bird calls.

Helen got out of her car and stood staring after her. Another woman emerged from the office and looked around apprehensively. Seeing that the medical assistant was a considerable distance off, she pulled a chubby twelve or thirteen-year-old girl out of the office and the two of them hurried to a car. "There's no one else in there," she called to Helen, "Just some guy in the back crying." The two got in the car and drove away.

Alarmed, Helen hurried inside. The office seemed deserted. Papers and record folders were scattered about. Helen called out, "Daria? Daria!"

The sound of sobbing was her only answer. She followed it to the office where Dr. Drake had talked with her this morning and written out the prescription for Prohappia. There he sat behind his desk, a cup of water in one hand and a handful of pills in the other, sobbing. He raised the pills toward his mouth.

"Stop that!" commanded Helen, stepping forward and knocking the pills from his hand. "Where is my daughter?"

"Damn," came a voice from behind her. Helen spun around. There sat Daria, in the chair she'd sat in this morning, wearing pretty much the same expression she'd worn this morning, staring intently at Drake. "I wanted to see him get his stomach pumped."

Drake put his face in his hands and wept as if his heart would break. Daria continued to watch him intently. Helen shuddered slightly at the expression on her face. "What in the world has been going on here?" she asked.

"Nothing much. We were just sitting here talking."

"And what happened to everyone else?"

"I guess the patients left when the staff started acting funny."

"Funny? Why were they acting funny?" Helen asked.

"Maybe it was the pills they took." Daria continued to stare at Dr. Drake, who continued to weep. Helen was feeling more creeped out by the minute.

"They took pills? Why did they take pills?"

"They got depressed, so they took some antidepressants," Daria replied, still staring at Drake. "Some Prohappia."

Helen identified Daria's expression. It was vengeful. "Daria, why were they depressed?" she asked apprehensively.

"I dunno. We were just sitting around, talking philosophy." The corners of Daria's mouth turned up ever so slightly.

Helen felt a chill. She decided not to pursue the topic any further for the moment. "Come on, Daria, let's go home." She looked at Drake, and thought about all the pills of various sorts in this office. "Doctor Drake, it's time to go home now." she said.

He obediently followed them out, still weeping. Opening his car door, he turned and said to Daria, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't matter," Daria replied. "Nothing matters." This brought on a fresh burst of sobbing as he got into his car. Daria got into the SUV, a faint, cold smile on her face. Helen waited till his Benz had left the lot before she started up her SUV and drove away.

~*~

Glancing over to where Daria sat, Helen saw that the cold little smile was gone from Daria's face, leaving an expression that closely resembled her characteristic deadpan, but that bespoke a bad mood to anyone who knew her well. Helen sought a pleasant subject for small talk as she drove homeward.

"Good news from the mall, Daria. The management were pretty upset about the disturbance, and they were waving a long list of items that were shoplifted during that period, but after we reviewed the tapes from some of the security cameras, they had to admit that the only thing you could be said to have shoplifted was that dress you were wearing. And when I told them about the drug reaction, they admitted that even that charge wouldn't stick. After I said something about that fountain being a safety hazard, especially for children, they were begging me to take all the things we'd bought at no charge. Of course I insisted on paying. But they're considering becoming co-plaintiffs If I bring any suits."

Daria was silent for a couple of seconds, then said, unenthusiastically, "That's nice." After a few more seconds, she asked, "Did you get my outfit?"

Helen gave Daria a wry look. "Your old clothes, I suppose you mean. Yes, I did. And your boots, and even your socks. I also got your blazer and your new boots. It's all in the back."

Daria muttered something that might have been "old clothes." Helen said, "What?"

"Thank you," Daria said.

Helen glanced askance at her daughter, but decided to accept the thank-you at face value. "You're welcome, sweetie," she said.

The silence began to lengthen. Helen was burning with curiosity about what Daria had said to Dr. Drake and his staff, but was afraid to ask. Daria would probably just repeat exactly what she'd told them, and Helen couldn't be sure she wouldn't react the way they had. Daria stared out the windshield, still looking unhappy.

"Daria, are you feeling all right?"

"Define 'all right.'"

"Come on, Daria."

Daria sighed and looked out the side window at nothing in particular. After a few seconds she said, "I'm not in pain, and I don't feel like I'm about to throw up."

It was plain to Helen that Daria was holding something back. "But…?" she prompted.

An angry look crossed Daria's face. "But I've had better days. I've been thoroughly screwed over by Manson, that damn doctor, and you, and I've made an utter fool of myself in public. I'm not quite my usual sunny self, okay?" She continued to stare straight ahead.

Helen felt Daria's words like a slap in the face. "Daria! I was just trying to do what was best for you! I had no way of knowing you'd have a bad reaction to Prohappia! Surely you can't blame me!"

Daria's head snapped around. "Yes, I can blame you! That pill should never have crossed my lips. You're my mother and you're supposed to take my side against people and accusations like that! But you didn't give half a minute's thought to the situation. You just implemented your standard procedure for any non-law-related problem. Pipe clogged? Call a plumber. Roof leaks? Get a roofer. Car making funny noises? Take it to the shop. Some asshole tells you your daughter is depressed? Drag her to Doctor Feelgood! Whatever it is, turn it over to a specialist and move on!

"I don't know what you expected me to do, Daria. I can't know everything. Sometimes I have to place my trust in experts."

"You wouldn't have placed your trust in Manson or Drake if they'd been expert witnesses against your client. But I'm just your daughter, so, hey! Whatever they say, right?"

"Daria, be fair! I can't hire a private investigator every time you bring a note home from school!"

"You could have asked around. Jane and Trent knew some stuff about both of them. I'll bet you know a lot of other people you could've asked and found out more. And two minutes on the Internet would have gotten you a checklist of symptoms of depression, and you would've seen for yourself that I don't fit the profile."

Helen looked straight ahead, blinking rapidly, fighting down her emotions. After several seconds, she said, in an unsteady voice, "You think I'm a bad mother. You think I'm so wrapped up in my work that I neglect my family. That I don't care. Don't you?"

Daria was also waging some internal struggle. Her expression was angry and upset, and she carefully avoided directing it at Helen, glaring instead into the footwell. "I think…" she paused and pounded the armrest with her fist, "I think we shouldn't be trying to have any kind of serious discussion until I can think straight again."

Helen looked over at Daria, who didn't look back. She had seldom, if ever, seen her daughter this unhappy and upset. "I guess you're right, Daria. Let's just go home, and I'll fix you some hot cocoa."

Daria didn't look up, but did smile briefly.

~*~

As they entered the front door, Quinn stomped angrily up to meet them. Doing her best to project an aura of injured dignity, she demanded "Daria, why are all the kids in school calling me 'the cuckoo chick'?"

Daria fastened her attention on Quinn like a cat spotting a movement in the grass. With false casualness she replied, "Oh, I bribed them all to do it. It's just the latest in my unending series of evil schemes to ruin your life. You don't mind, do you?"

Something in Daria's look made Quinn's blood run cold. She didn't need Helen's 'zip your lip' and 'go away' gestures to decide to stay out of Daria's path the rest of the day.

Daria headed upstairs carrying her packages from the car. Helen called after her, "Come back downstairs when you finish putting your things away, sweetie. Your cocoa should be ready by then."

Quinn turned wide eyes from the loot-laden Daria to Helen. "You took her shopping? At the mall? Daria?"

"Yes, Quinn," replied Helen shortly.

"And now you're making her cocoa?" Quinn knew she was missing something here, and it included a shopping trip.

"I'll heat enough water for two cups, and you can fix yourself some."

Quinn wasn't interested in cocoa. "I heard there was some sort of a riot at the mall today. Did you see any of that?"

"Oh, yeah."

Quinn caught the tone of Helen's reply. "Daria was involved in that? What happened?"

Helen sighed deeply. "We took her back to the Doctor."

Quinn had all her antennae out now, and she could tell that there was a lot that Helen wasn't saying. "And then what?" she asked.

Helen looked down into the pan of water and said nothing.

"Omigod! She started a riot there too?!"

Helen's head drooped, and she put a hand to her forehead.

"She did!" Eyes very wide, Quinn clapped a hand to her mouth.

Helen looked up at Quinn and her expression was weary but grim. "Quinn, Daria didn't start any riots. Just… minor disturbances. And it really wasn't her fault. She isn't feeling very well right now, and if you set her off, the next riot could involve bloodshed. Quite possibly yours. Now would be a good time for you to go to a fashion club meeting."

This was definitely unexpected. "Next meeting is tomorrow. Sandi and Tiffany have dates tonight."

Helen pulled a twenty out of her billfold. "Then why don't you go study with Stacy? Here, get yourselves a pizza or something."

Quinn's avarice was aroused. "We're all caught up on our schoolwork. If I had another twenty, we could go to a movie…"

Helen's expression hardened and she started to put the twenty away. "Never mind. There are some holes I need dug in the back yard…"

Quinn snatched the twenty and headed for the door. "We'll work something out. Thanks, Mom!"

"Quinn! You keep what I said about Daria to yourself!" Helen called after her.

"Okay, Mom!" Quinn called as she hurried out the door. That stricture should be easy to work around. She needed to hook up to the grapevine and find out just what had happened. No telling how much damage Daria had done to her popularity this time.

~*~

Helen looked out toward the family room as she stirred the cocoa mix into the mug of hot water. Daria was sitting on the sofa. Helen carried the cocoa out to her.

As she came around the sofa, Helen saw that Daria had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She sat down next to Daria and handed her the mug of cocoa. Daria took a cautious sip, staring at the dark TV screen.

Helen put her arm around Daria's shoulders. Daria tried to pull away, but she was already at the end of the sofa. "Daria, is there anything I can do for you?"

"You could send me to a boarding school in another state. Or another country. Somewhere where they never get news from Lawndale, where they'll never hear about what I did today. Somewhere where I can change my name and start over."

"Oh, Daria, don't be silly."

"Too late for that," Daria muttered bitterly. "Waaaay too late for that."

"Daria, you're awfulizing. You didn't do anything bad. You didn't hurt anyone or destroy any property. And I've seen lots of kids behave worse than you did in that mall."

"I humiliated myself in public. And I did it so spectacularly that the people who saw it will never forget it. I have to leave Lawndale, Mom. I can't live here any more."

"Daria, even if I thought that made sense, which I don't, we can't afford to send you to a boarding school, not if you want to go to college. You'll just have to grit your teeth, stick out your chin, and soldier on." Helen squeezed Daria's shoulder.

With what felt like a tremendous effort, Daria stood to her feet. She placed the mug on the coffee table, lay down on the left love seat with her face toward its back, taking up enough of it so that there was no place for Helen to sit, and pulled the blanket over her. "Then I'll have to finish high school via telepresence," she said to the back cushion.

Helen sighed. It hurt her to see her daughter like this, but, for now, there was nothing she could do. She reached over, picked up her briefcase, extracted from it a transcript, found her place, and began reading and making notes.

Fifteen or twenty minutes later, Daria groaned and started to roll over, but stopped when she realized that she was about to roll off the love seat. Cursing gravity under her breath, she sat up and gathered the blanket. Helen looked over at her.

"Are you feeling any better, sweetie? Can I do anything for you?"

Daria lay down on her other side and began arranging the blanket. "I feel achy all over. You can put me out of my misery. Never mind about the pain, just make it quick."

Helen said, "Come on, Daria, I'm serious. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Daria huddled unresponsive for a few seconds, then slowly straightened up and pulled the blanket down off her head. "Yeah. Yes, there is. You can take a good long look at me. This is what depression really looks like. This is me with a chemical imbalance. Take a real good look, and file it away for future reference." She gazed into her mother's eyes for a few seconds, a portrait of misery. "Oh, and you might also remember how I got this way." Daria curled up again into a fetal position and pulled the blanket back over her head, adjusting it from within until she was completely covered from head to toe.

Some indeterminate time later, the light suddenly brightened in Daria's warm fuzzy world of funk. She opened her eyes and saw a hand holding a telephone at the entrance of her blanket cavern. Helen's voice said, "It's Jane."

Daria stared unmoving at the object, but it didn't go away. "Take the phone, Daria," her mother said, and gave it a little shake, presumably to help her identify it.

With a weary sigh, Daria brought up a hand and grasped the thing. She brought it somewhat near her face and produced a minimal-effort vocalization, which sounded like "mmm."

"Hey, amiga, glad to hear you aren't dead yet. How're ya feelin?"

Daria peered out through her fuzzy cave entrance. Helen was heading toward the kitchen. She cast a look over her shoulder at Daria, then walked through the arched doorway. Daria said, "Like I wish I was dead."

Jane waited, but Daria said nothing further. "How much do you remember from this afternoon?" she asked.

"I remember everything with crystal clarity. That's why I wish I was dead."

"Aw, c'mon, Daria. I think you broke your mom of poking pills down you, at the very least. That's gotta be worth something."

"I recited bad poetry in public, Jane. I sang in public. I even danced. Not to mention the Shari Lewis impression in the toy store, and that unnameable horror at the fountain. I made a gibbering fool of myself in front of half of Lawndale, and they'll be retelling the story for fifty years to come. Life is a burden I can no longer bear."

"Daria. Don't even joke about that. Besides, I know you too well. I know you'd never let the responsible parties get away with doing that to you. You're going to make them rue the day they messed with Daria Morgendorffer, and I'm going to stand around and watch and smirk wickedly."

There was silence on the line for a couple of seconds, and then Daria replied, "Yeah, you're right. That's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna kick ass and take names. And you're going to drive the getaway car. Can you borrow Trent's car now?"

"I'm pretty sure I can. I see the keys and I don't see him."

"Okay. Give me ten… no, fifteen minutes, then come over. Park two houses down, turn off the lights, and wait.

"O-oh, goodie! "I'm lovin' this already! What are you gonna do?"

"I'm going to fix myself a cup of tea and put on my Masked Avenger costume."

"No, I mean after I pick you up?"

"Like I said, kick ass and take names. I think I'll start with some names. See ya in fourteen." Daria switched off the phone, threw the blanket off her, and sat up. Her limbs felt like lead. Actually, all of her did. She forced herself to stand and walk to the kitchen, through air that seemed as thick as syrup.

Helen had the table covered with notes and documents. She looked up as Daria came in. "I'm glad you're feeling better, sweetie."

"I wish." Daria laid the phone on the counter and got a small pan out of a cabinet under the range. It seemed to weigh fifty pounds.

"Well, you look like you're feeling better."

"No, I don't." Daria ran some water in the pan and set it on an element to heat.

Helen didn't know how to respond to that. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to fix myself some tea and go up to my room." Daria knew she wouldn't be able to keep herself going through sheer willpower for much longer unless she could somehow drag herself out of the crater the pill's aftereffects had left her in.

"That sounds nice. Some of that Beddie-Bye tea?"

"No way. I'm already depressed. I don't want to go catatonic. I'm thinking Crimson Zonker." Daria took a small red box off a shelf, removed two teabags from it, and dropped them in a large mug. As she put the box back, she noticed the box of ginseng tea behind it. She hesitated, then pulled out this box, opened it, took a tea bag from it, and added it to the mug. She started to return one of the Crimson Zonker bags, but decided not to.

"Mom, do you still have those St. John's Wort capsules? Can I have one?"

Helen looked up from her paperwork and smiled. "Sure, honey, but just one."

"Okay."

While she waited for the water to boil, Daria found the bottle of herb capsules and got one out. Then she poured a glassful of cold coffee, adulterated it with milk, and washed the capsule down with it. As soon as little bubbles started to form on the bottom of the pan, Daria poured the hot water into the mug and set the pan on top of it as a lid. She drank more of the cold coffee while she waited for the tea to steep.

After dunking the tea bags up and down a few times in the tea and pressing most of the liquid out of them, she discarded them and stirred some honey into the tea. Daria sipped the tea as she headed up to her room. Herb tea and coffee were about all they had around the house in the way of mood elevators, unless one wanted to count Blast Me Cola. Daria usually avoided that because something in it made her teeth feel like they were starting to curl. She didn't know whether it was the extra caffeine or not, but she didn't like the sensation. If the tea didn't elevate her mood sufficiently, she thought, she'd think about where to attach the electrodes when she had Manson strapped into the interrogation chair.

~*~