4. Don Juan's First Love
That night, you lay awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Is this Don Juan guy for real? You think to yourself as you continue to lay there. He sounds so sure of himself—and yet so unbelievable. There is no way this guy can be serious—and yet he is so serious about his identity there should be no questioning. You shut your eye tightly, trying not to think too hard about the situation. You're his psychiatrist, and thus, it is your job to get him back to reality.
Do I really want to bring him back to reality? You ask yourself. His reality seems so much more real than your own.
I have to put him on meds soon or Doctor Greene is going to kill me.
But his reality is so much more real than yours is.
I think I can hold off a bit longer. He doesn't seem to be that desperate for meds so soon. You shut your eyes one more, and this time falling into a sound sleep.
"Good morning, Doctor Tribianni." Dr. Greene greets you as you walk briskly to your office.
"Good morning, doctor." You reply swiftly, opening the door to your office.
"Are you starting Mr. Don Juan with his meds today?" He asks you.
"Well, doctor, about that—"
"Doctor Tribianni, it is imperative that this man gets on medication as soon as possible."
"Doctor, hear me out on this one—I honestly thing I need a bit more time to diagnose his case before I can put him on anything."
"Angela, are you serious? This man tried to commit suicide."
"I know doctor, but I've really only had one meeting with him—I need at least today and maybe tomorrow before I can properly diagnose him."
Doctor Green sighs.
"Alright, I trust your judgment—but the sooner he goes on medication, the better." Dr. Green says and walks away.
You enter your office and shut the door behind you, breathing a sigh of relief. You really don't want to put Don Juan on meds just yet—you want to listen to more of his story.
You walk over to you desk and take a seat. You take out some paper and jot down some notes while you wait for Don Juan to arrive. Suddenly, there is a knock at the door. Startled, you jump at the knock, then calm down before answering.
"Come on in." You say loudly. The door swings open and the nurse and Don Juan enter your office.
"Don Juan's here for his appointment, doctor." The nurse says, eyeing Johnny with a seductive stare.
"Very well. Thank you." You say with a smile. The nurse hesitates, takes one last look at Johnny, then leaves.
"Take a seat, please." You offer Don Juan with a gesture across from you. He smiles, nods, and takes a seat.
"Señorita Angela, how are you today?" He asks, his deep brown eyes gleaming.
"I'm very well, thank you—and yourself?" You ask sweetly, taking out some paper and a pen.
"I could be doing better—but all is well now that I'm here talking with you, señorita." He smiles and tips his hat, then removes it gracefully from his head.
You laugh quaintly at his remark and smile.
"That's very nice of you, Don Juan." You say, then pause briefly before continuing. "Where did we leave off last time?"
"I was speaking to you of doña Ana, and how when I saw her that one night, I knew right then how a woman needed to be touched." He replies.
"Ah yes. Well continue on, please." You say, getting chills up your spine.
"Very well then." He complies.
"My mother and father knew that I was beginning to have a reputation in the village with the girls—I did learn at a very young age how to treat women, so my mother hired a teacher for me to have at home to help take my mind away from the girls in the town. She hired doña Julia, a beautiful woman who taught me religion—my mother was very religious—and she taught me other things as well. However, doña Julia caught my attention—her physical beauty was not the only thing about her that made me love her—it was a way about her...the way she moved and walked and her soft voice. There was one catch however—she was married, but by this time in my life, I was around 15 or so years of age, and I really wanted to make love for the first time...and I wanted it to be with doña Julia. I wanted to test out my skills—touch her in the way she needed to be touched."
"So did you?" You ask, fully engaged in his tale.
"Doña Julia and I went down to the river to engage in the daily studies of Bible reading, but I initiated the first move. One thing led to another, and that day, I lost my virginity by making love so passionately to doña Julia."
"Oh God...but she was married!" You exclaim as if his life were so sappy soap opera on daytime television.
"I know, señorita, but we were in love—I loved doña Julia. Whenever we made love it was this magical feeling that nobody could ever understand. We were together for quite some time—I would go to her home when her husband wasn't in the village and we would make love. But, alas, with all good things, there come an end. This one night I was at doña Julia's home and her husband was not home and we were making love and suddenly...there was a knock at the door. It was doña Julia's husband. She told me to run and hide in fear that he might kill me, but I did not fast enough—I fought her husband with the sword and she told me to run, for fear I would die. That was the last I ever saw of doña Julia."
"I'm so sorry." You say softly.
"After that, doña Julia and her husband left the village, never to be seen again."
"That's sad. I'm deeply sorry."
"It's okay—it's memories, eh?" He forces a smile.
"Can you tell me about your parents while you were growing up?"
Don Juan stands up and removes his cape and places it on the couch next to your desk. He then walks over to the shelf of books you have and takes one off the shelf and brings it back over to his seat and sits down. He opens the book and flips through a few pages before speaking again.
"Well, my father was an excellent swordsman." He says finally, as if the answer was in the book in his hand.
"I see." You say bluntly.
"He taught me everything I need to know about using the sword in a duel. That is how my father was killed, you know."
"Your father was killed in a duel?" You ask, feeling bad about your previous bluntness.
"Yes. There was a man by the name of don Alfonzo who was quite aware of my sexual activity and blamed my mother for poor upbringing. My father was enraged with anger at this, for he loved my mother dearly, that he challenged don Alfonzo to a duel. During the duel, don Alfonzo stabbed me father, so I took his sword and fought don Alfonzo. I said to him 'you kill my father, now you must kill me as well'"
"Why did you want to die as well?" You ask, thinking this may have something to do with his pervious suicide attempt.
"Because it was my fault that the duel had happened—that my mother was blamed for my unacceptable behavior as a great lover—and my father died for it. So I fought don Alfonzo...and ended up killing him. Then my mother and I held my father in our arms until he passed."
"I'm so sorry." You say, wiping a tear from your eye. "That's awful. You poor thing." You sniff back the rest of your tears.
"Don't cry, señorita Angela." Johnny says. "You needn't feel sad about it." He takes your hand and kisses it gently.
"Oh, you're sweet." You say between sobs, sniffing.
"I'm afraid my time is up, señorita Angela. Until tomorrow." He kisses your hand again, then leaves the room. You fall back in your chair, completely amazed by this man.