Part 86
V. Ardanowski wandered through the campus art exhibit at Port Charles University. Art was her hobby. It contrasted well with police detective work. The kind of thing where you could let your mind relax, and be creative – a real change from grinding investigative work.
One of the paintings had a model that looked familiar. V. looked a little closer.
"That's mine," one of the students was standing behind her.
"Girl Racer," V. looked up at the student, reading the title from the bottom. "Nice work. So you're E. Webber?"
"Elizabeth. Yes. You're Detective Ardanowski, the one who did Lake at Midnight which was in the show Jasper Jax did last year."
"Why yes. I'm amazed you remember!"
"I think it's a beautiful painting. I remember you were a police officer, too, that was on your little write-up there. It's an unusual combination. It helps people remember you. Have you had any other work in exhibits since then?"
"Not since that. I'm working on a couple of paintings, though. With the winter snow and storms, there's more time. It's harder to commit crimes in bad weather."
"So there's something good about bad weather."
"Come by and see them sometime. I'll give you my number."
"Thanks, and I'll give you mine. I have a little studio over nearer the docks."
"Great. You know, I recognize your girl driver. The nurse on Smith's case."
"Quinn. I wound up in ICU after a car accident, and she was the nurse on my case, too. I learned she drives race cars from her godfather, who is a hospital volunteer. Another unusual combination of profession and hobby."
"That's cool! I like that! So it's not just a pose?"
"Nope. She races that car. Locally."
"I think you manage to convey her spirit – strong and gentle at once."
"Yes. I was thinking too, of wild and responsible at once. If that makes any sense. Wild side, co-existing with a serious side."
"Yeah. I see that. And your colors here are wonderfully balanced. The dark background, and the lighter car, and her outfit – really bounce off of each other in an interesting way."
"I really liked painting that one," Elizabeth said.
Amanda came to Kathleen's classroom at Port Charles Middle School. School had just let out.
"I'm glad Oksana delegates this to you," Amanda said. "I think you can understand it all best."
"Have a seat," Kathleen said, "or maybe –"
"It's OK," Amanda laughed. She sat down at the nearest first row desk.
"How is it going?" Kathleen asked.
"Quite well," Amanda answered. "Zander can do more than I thought he would. I thought four years since he was last in school was enough time for him to forget a whole lot. But he says things come back to him when he starts looking at it. Which is true. He's intelligent. In a way people don't pick up on. They think he's not."
"I thought so," Kathleen said. "Somehow I knew it."
"The GED test parts," Amanda said, "there are five. You have Math – he can do the basics, and breezes through the units I did regarding algebra. Statistics is a little more hairy – he doesn't like that at all! I've got him setting up some of his own, so that's helping a lot. You've got science – the Russian schools must be great on that. He breezes right through that."
"Good for the attention deficit that it doesn't take long to understand."
"Yes. It gets less in the way. English grammar he knows almost by instinct. He at least has been reading these last four years, and knows the rules internally, and only needs to be more aware of the terminology for them. All coming back. Literature, he can easily handle the general questions. Then you've got Social Studies – in geography, he is much better than American students generally, and he can pass that. The rest is a little slow. American history. He is interested in that though, so he's picking it up. It's more effective when you tell him to research it and let him tell you about it."
"Sounds like he can pass the test when he's had enough time to review what he already knows and learn the balance."
"The test is given every month. I think he can take it in March at the earliest. By May or June, I am sure. I'm about positive he can pass it."
"Good. Any help I can give you, just let me know."
"If you get a chance to talk about American history. Maybe just talk about it."
"Great. I'll tell Oksana we're doing fine."
"OK. If she would OK the expense, I, or you, could take him on a trip. At least one, for an experiment. I have this theory, that if he sees something, he'll learn more. For example, take him to a battlefield. Maybe Gettysburg."
"I like that. I'll talk to her."
"Did you see in the Port Charles Herald how the defense lawyer is bringing up the insanity defense in the Corinthos attempted murder case?" Paul asked Gail Baldwin. The two of them were at lunch at the Port Charles Grill, between appointments. "She planned to shoot her ex-husband. Maybe she'll get off with attempted manslaughter, as can happen in domestic relations cases."
"I haven't seen any facts that would justify that," Gail said. "It wasn't as if he was with another woman! Has she ever alleged that he abused her? From all I can see, he was trying to get custody of their son. Has she ever alleged he abused her son?"
"I don't know, but it wouldn't be a surprise if she has alleged all of that," Paul said, wryly.
Gail laughed. "You're probably right."
"Poor kid. He will end up with a severe case of parental alienation. She could get out of jail someday and be a major pain in the boy's psyche," Paul observed. "An extreme case. I have two patients now in divorces. They say they do what they do for the kids. But I don't know."
"Parental alienation," Gail said, thinking, "Isn't that where the child hears so many bad things about the non-custodial parent, that they express dislike for them?"
"Yes, where the custodial parent tries to get them on their side," Paul answered. "Even if unintentionally. Leans on the child too much, added to all the guilt the child might feel as a result. You've read about all that, I'm sure."
"How the child can feel like they've caused the divorce? Yes, I've run across that. They can even end up feeling responsible for the parent's extreme acts, like custodial kidnappings. I have a case with that."
"Smith, probably."
"Now how did you know that? Are you psychic?"
Paul laughed. "No, just that my ex-girlfriend was the nurse on his case and she was always trying to help him. And so I know he was kidnapped and taken abroad by the noncustodial parent."
"Well, it's child abuse," Gail said. "Maybe that sounds like an exaggeration, but it messes with the child's ability to trust anyone as much as any other kind of child abuse. The upheaval and instability – they get a perspective on life that is 'one-day-at-a-time.' And they do feel guilty. I see that in the Smith case. Just as you expect. The kidnapping occurs, and then the child feels like they abandoned the other parent, and feel guilty about not being able to find that parent, while at the same time, they end up wondering if that parent really cares about them, because that parent doesn't find them. "
"So it was the Dad that did it?"
"Yes, but then I've had some thought about how the mother initially left the father. She took them off when he wasn't home, and left no way for him to find them. It took the father a long time to find them, even though they hadn't gone far. She changed their school. It was a minor rehearsal for the reverse. She is a tough one. One of those people you'd normally never see, because they think they are fine."
"Does the cultural difference matter?" Paul asked.
"Interesting question," Gail said. "Sometimes I think all the diagnoses apply only to Americans, you know? Silly. There is an effect, though. I don't know what it is. She in amazingly self-reliant, which doesn't fit in with the stereotype for people raised in Communist countries."
"Politics," Paul said, with an air of disgust. "People are always trying to use whatever they can for their agenda."
"It must not be that simple, is all," Gail said. "The thing about her is that she is very smart. Give her a suggestion, and she picks right up on it. She does start taking things into account, if you tell her about it. She will see the value of it. There, you actually have this cooperation that doesn't happen with people as easily when they think or know there is something wrong with them. She's into a thing, for example, I thought she was competing with Dad, you know, she's arguing with Zander about whether he treated Dad equally. I pointed out to her she was competing with her ex. She quit doing it."
"So she didn't argue with you," Paul said. "Nice to be listened to, for once!"
"Very," Gail laughed.
"Sounds like she could use a shrink to follow her around," Paul said. "Tell her when she's doing something dumb."
"She is too self-reliant for that! Somehow she managed to raise Zander to be self-reliant also. Too much. To the point where he tries things way before he could be ready. You have to pull him back. I could say he missed his adolescence. He is almost like the oldest son of a 19th century family, where the father died."
"Premature man of the house."
"Yes. Worries about his younger brother as if he is more of a parent than an older brother. He has all the abandonment symptoms too. They get that when they wonder why the other parent doesn't find them. Then they get returned to the parent and feel like they are with a stranger. Confusing. His mother had him helping her out to get him out of the country his father had taken him to! And you can tell he felt guilty about the whole thing – for leaving Dad, and for not having been with Mom. "
"No way out. Consistent with the literature on runaways. Overwhelming psychological pain and upheaval brings it about. Add being so self-reliant, as you describe, and it is almost dangerous."
"Yet he's a nice kid. He's less dangerous than he used to be!"
"That's because he has a good shrink."
"Well, thank you! Trying to get points with me, are you? See if I'll cover you on some weekend?"
"Aww, of course you will. As I will in my turn."
The hostess on duty at the Outback brought Zander and Quinn to a table. Soon Jerry Jax was right there.
"Hello, how are you this fine evening? Let me move you to a better table," he said.
"No, this is fine," Quinn said.
"Yes, it's fine," Zander echoed.
"All right, if you like the view from here! What can I get you? Chardonnay, for you. Iced tea for you," he said. They both nodded.
"I'll be right back," Jerry said, going off.
"OK," Quinn said. "Every customer does not get this treatment. We get it only because of your relationship to Alexis."
"What a good memory he has," Zander said.
"I've ordered that same thing a few times," Quinn said. "Still, he can't be remembering that for everybody."
Jerry brought the drinks himself. "There you are," he said, setting the iced tea down in front of Zander and the glass of wine in front of Quinn.
When he was gone, Zander said, "Oh, there is something wrong with the view."
Quinn laughed. "And that is?"
"Dr. Dumbo, Elizabeth, and some other people."
Quinn turned quickly. "His parents and his sister! I wonder how she will fare with them!"
"You fared fine, I am sure. Do you think she'll do worse? She almost has to. They must have liked you. Therefore, they probably don't like her."
"You've got a better view!"
"OK. I see the backs of the parents, I guess. I can get a profile of the sister. I don't think she is terribly enchanted."
"How does Elizabeth look?"
"Placid. Handling it. Doctor looks like his usual self. Friendly, confident and happy. Upbeat like he is. Sure the folks are going to come around someday. Self satisfied."
"Not a surprise, really."
Jerry came over with the waiter. "This is Mark," he said, "and these are two good friends of mine. Take very good care of them."
Later, when they were eating, Jerry came by himself, instead of the waiter, to ask if everything was all right. The waiter brought them another drink without their asking. Then Jerry brought them a dessert and insisted they take it.
"OK," Quinn said, as soon as he was gone, and taking a piece of chocolate strawberry whatever-it-was with her fork – "This is definitely more owner attention than anybody else gets. Decidedly."
"You may like to hear this: Jerry has not been over there to Paul and company once."
"I like to hear that very much!"
Back in the car, Quinn asked, laughing, "Shall I take notes?"
He turned on the lights. "There's my school stuff here somewhere."
He found a legal pad in the back seat. She wrote: tried to change table, introduced us to waiter, brought drinks himself, had waiter bring drinks."
"Remembered drinks."
"Yes. Came back and checked, instead of the waiter."
"Said we were his two good friends."
Quinn laughed. "And finally: brought us a chocolate strawberry something-or-other."
She put the pad in the back.
"Is this a school book?" she asked, picking up a book.
"Yes. It's American history. What I did not learn in high school."
"Did you learn anything in high school? I mean, at Port Charles High."
"No!"
"Not even by osmosis?"
"No."
"How did you get there? I mean, here? From Florida, to here?"
"Moving along. So as not to get caught."
"How did you get into drug dealing, anyway?"
"Well, Nurse Question, when you are out there like that, you drift right in. To work for real, they always want papers, because you are a minor."
"You know, I never had a job until I was over 18. I'm such an innocent."
"Well," he said. "You parents would have signed for you. But when you can't, or as I choose to be, made it impossible, it is easy to justify. You start as a courier. All you have to do is take the stuff with you from point A to point B on the train or a bus. You get a lot of money for what is relatively easy. No taxes and no papers or permits."
"But there's the danger, not just of getting caught. The people you are working for – aren't they potentially violent?"
"They could be. That's why you have to get them the money."
"Did you have to be a courier for the money, too?"
"Yes. They tested you for trust with smaller amounts at first."
"How do you start? I mean, you don't fill out a job application."
"They come up to you. They're always looking for somebody. They are streetwise and have you figured out before they talk to you."
"What if you lost the money, or the drugs?"
"You could end up very dead."
"How did you not get scared enough to go back?"
"I always thought I was one step away from getting out of it all. I would get fake papers somehow. I would turn 18."
"When you were 18, you didn't quit for a real job."
"By then I did not care. There was way more money in it. I needed it, to put Pete through school. Remember? My parents could swoop down on me if I used my real name to prove I was 18. And I was always about to fix things. Something would happen. Nobody forces people to use drugs. See how easy come up with excuses?"
"It was a good thing you got caught."
"I thought so after awhile. It was very positive in the long term. Alexis helped me more than I ever dreamed anyone would. Emily really did help me. Things were looking up. I thought getting that job with Sonny was the greatest thing. I didn't make as much, but I didn't have as many problems. And I never dreamed things could be as well as now. That I would actually have parents again or be in school, or getting a degree."
"In the long run, it's a good thing you got shot! As long as you recovered, it was a positively good thing!"
"Yes. I will always be glad I ended up in the ICU."
She smiled. "Let's go. I've grilled you enough for now."
Quinn was at the counter at Kelly's getting a coffee to go. Lucky Spencer was there doing the same, though he was behind the counter, since his father and aunt owned the place. It appeared Quinn was getting insider privileges here, too, as Lucky poured her a cup of coffee and gave it to her himself.
Elizabeth then came in on the same errand. Lucky scowled when he saw her, but poured her a cup likewise.
"I saw you at the Outback the other night," Elizabeth said. "You were having a good time."
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Quinn answered. "But you? How does the family like you?"
Elizabeth smiled her Mona Lisa smile. "They are distrustful," she answered. "I have overheard Patty using the words 'even younger' to Mrs. Whitman."
"He should read his psych books to find out why he wants to get married but dates women too young," Quinn said.
"Maybe," Elizabeth said, unruffled. "But you really do look happier. Aren't you the tiniest bit glad? Relieved from his burdensome proposal. Maybe even grateful?"
Lucky scoffed. "Oh please, Elizabeth! Grateful to you for stealing Dr. Witless? So she's spending time with Zander? This is supposed to be an improvement?"
"That is so boring, Lucky," Elizabeth answered. "So old hat. Passe. You don't even know what you're talking about any more. Knee-jerk reaction. Zander equals bad. Does this make you feel better about yourself? Some sort of displacement of your own evil onto another man?"
"Don't use your amateur second hand psychiatry on me," Lucky said. "Zander never changes. He was incredibly rude to Emily and wrecked her Christmas vacation."
Quinn was unfortunately taking a sip of coffee, and choked on it. She swallowed hard, and then giggled, and then laughed.
"All right, all right," Lucky amended. "He put a damper on some small part of it."
Quinn laughed a little more. "That's better," she said.
"You have been warned, Quinn!" Lucky said, smiling a little, though.
"She looks happy to me," Elizabeth said.
"You know me so well!" Quinn said back.
"Maybe," Elizabeth said. "How much does one have to think about in a hospital, anyhow? And people talk about their goddaughters when they are proud of them. Anyway, see you later."
She left, leaving Quinn to look after her, mouth agape.
