That boy needs therapy,
Lie down on the couch, what does that mean?
You're a nut! You're crazy in the coconut!
What does that mean? That boy needs therapy! ~~~"Frontier Psychiatrist" –The Avalanches
I sat in front of his psychiatrist a week after Leigh's death, my hands still shaking. The doctor sat opposite me, leafing through a large folder, filled with a mixture of old, yellowing papers, and a few new, crisp white sheets. He had been collecting them and saving them for me, each and everyone was a news clipping, or sale receipt that concerned Christine. "So," he began, "You think this murder in Florida was committed by Christine?" I nodded. I had told him all about Christine, Arnie, and the events leading to my, "fragile mental state." That's what the lead physician said, but Dr. Steinman had told me I was mentally sound, and what the physician said didn't amount to horse-shit. "And you believe it's connected with the murder of Sandy two weeks ago?" he asked, putting down the folder and looking at me carefully. I nodded again. "Yes, I do." Dr. Steinman took out a news clipping and handed it across the table. "This is the story the reporter in Sandy's home town wrote. I think you may find it quite interesting."
The clipping said nothing about Christine's driver, and mentioned no eye- witnesses. I glanced up. "This has no real information." I observed. Steinman nodded. "Exactly. Which leads me to believe the police down there can't explain it. Neither can the people down in Taos." he told me, looking back in his folder. "In fact, most of the news stories resemble the ones from your little incident in Libertyville." I looked up. "Your point is?" Steinman smiled. "My point is, your story checks out. I have no reason not to believe you." he finished, his smile broadening. I snorted. "Except for all the laws of nature." I retorted, passing the clipping back. Dr Steinman put it carefully in his folder and looked at me for a moment. "What are you going to do?" he asked quietly. I looked up quizzically. He sat down in his chair, and clasped his hands in front of him. "If everything you've told me is true, then that..." he paused, "thing, is coming for you." I nodded again reluctantly, it was true. We were both silent for awhile, the only sound in the room was the clicking of his secretary on the computer outside, and the sound of my own heavy breathing. Finally I spoke. "I don't know."
Lie down on the couch, what does that mean?
You're a nut! You're crazy in the coconut!
What does that mean? That boy needs therapy! ~~~"Frontier Psychiatrist" –The Avalanches
I sat in front of his psychiatrist a week after Leigh's death, my hands still shaking. The doctor sat opposite me, leafing through a large folder, filled with a mixture of old, yellowing papers, and a few new, crisp white sheets. He had been collecting them and saving them for me, each and everyone was a news clipping, or sale receipt that concerned Christine. "So," he began, "You think this murder in Florida was committed by Christine?" I nodded. I had told him all about Christine, Arnie, and the events leading to my, "fragile mental state." That's what the lead physician said, but Dr. Steinman had told me I was mentally sound, and what the physician said didn't amount to horse-shit. "And you believe it's connected with the murder of Sandy two weeks ago?" he asked, putting down the folder and looking at me carefully. I nodded again. "Yes, I do." Dr. Steinman took out a news clipping and handed it across the table. "This is the story the reporter in Sandy's home town wrote. I think you may find it quite interesting."
The clipping said nothing about Christine's driver, and mentioned no eye- witnesses. I glanced up. "This has no real information." I observed. Steinman nodded. "Exactly. Which leads me to believe the police down there can't explain it. Neither can the people down in Taos." he told me, looking back in his folder. "In fact, most of the news stories resemble the ones from your little incident in Libertyville." I looked up. "Your point is?" Steinman smiled. "My point is, your story checks out. I have no reason not to believe you." he finished, his smile broadening. I snorted. "Except for all the laws of nature." I retorted, passing the clipping back. Dr Steinman put it carefully in his folder and looked at me for a moment. "What are you going to do?" he asked quietly. I looked up quizzically. He sat down in his chair, and clasped his hands in front of him. "If everything you've told me is true, then that..." he paused, "thing, is coming for you." I nodded again reluctantly, it was true. We were both silent for awhile, the only sound in the room was the clicking of his secretary on the computer outside, and the sound of my own heavy breathing. Finally I spoke. "I don't know."