On the Edge of Wakefulness
Chapter 3
Midnight clicked into place on the wall clock, several long hours since Todd came out of surgery. He was quiet, save for the occasional facial or muscular twitch punctuated by a soft moan. Kevin sat across the room ... waiting, watching. He had largely recovered from the immediate shock of finding him but was now left with something else. Something like disorientation, discombobulation, daze.
He'd gone home to change, clean up the blood. Kissed Cassie goodbye, and returned to the hospital. He'd only meant to keep his mother company. But when he got here, she handed him a document. A health care directive. Viki had a serious look on her face.
"Sam brought this to me last week," she said. "It's new."
Her name was listed as the primary decision-maker for Todd's medical decisions if he couldn't speak for himself. "Yeah, no shock, Mom. Téa is gone, he hates Blair. You're an obvious alternative."
"Read more, keep reading."
He looked down again and turned the page, seeing Todd's signature there at the end. But then his eye caught the contingent decision maker. "Are you kidding?" He was looking at his own name. Todd had listed Kevin as a health care decision maker.
"Why?"
"He trusts you. With his life, with his body." Tears lit her eyes. She held his arm.
Yeah, trusted him to find his body, trusted him to—
He laughed a bit too out loud. "Mom, don't get notions. He doesn't trust me to save him, he trusts that I hate him enough to easily pull the fuckin' plug. What an ass. Sorry for the French, mom."
"Kevin…come on," she said quietly. "Don't be so cynical."
He hugged her. "I know you love him. Don't worry. I'll always do right by you. Even when it comes to him."
God, Manning is such an asshole.
In light of his new powers, Kevin stayed at the hospital on his own. This was better. His mother needed to deal with Todd's business and personal affairs since he was fully out of commission. She was his legal trustee for everything. First item, contacting Blair. Very personal affair. So she and Sam left.
As he began his vigil, Kevin wondered why Todd had done it. Was it the article? Was it Kevin's determination to prove Todd guilty that pushed him to suicide? But… to do something so violent over a newspaper article made no sense, unless Todd really had done something to Michelle and was afraid to be found out. Like Kevin was thinking. Like what his article was suggesting.
Except his chosen method was no guarantee of death. Had he really opted for a coward's way out… he'd have eaten a bullet. And really, if this was how he dealt with bad acts, he'd have done it ages ago when it became clear he was going to be convicted for Marty's rape.
So no answers then ... only a sick feel in his stomach. Kept hearing Dr. Wolek say, "Self-mutilation." Christ. The attack on his own body with that blade was loads of self-mutilation beyond those little burns. And then his mom's suggestion. Sexual abuse. He shuddered. He couldn't imagine. Didn't want to.
Who was Todd Manning? The man on the bed was very different from the man Kevin spent years positively HATING. Hence, disorientation.
Nurses checked Todd's vitals. They also took the time to put a gown on him. Kevin saw his naked body again, tried not to look but couldn't help it. There was such an indignity in it, a vulnerability he couldn't match to the Todd he knew. The nurses disconnected some wires and tubes while they adjusted the gown. The catheter remained in place though. Kevin saw that too. Sighed heavily.
Then more indignity. Todd was restrained to the bed, straps across his belly and chest, straps on his ankles. It seemed cruel. Dr. Wolek noted, "It's for his own safety. FTFs don't like finding themselves alive."
FTFs, Kevin asked?
"Sorry, med slang. Failure to fly… failed suicides." Despite the foreboding about WHY Todd would need restraints, Kevin's disorientation started to clarify, fog clearing on the highway. He may not understand the WHY of what happened right now, but he did have a job that Todd himself had given him:
I thought you were the best choice - didn't want them to find the body.
Kevin leaned back sleepily, legs outstretched. Yeah, new work. The job of finding Todd, and saving his life or pulling the plug.
Todd dreamed of attending the circus with his mother, Barbara. Her glossy, luxurious hair was long, reaching to the middle of her back. She wore a green-colored pantsuit. He was four years old and held her hand, in awe of the massive tent they were in, yet a tiny bit fearful of the crowd. They walked to their seats ten rows up. Todd watched the red curtain at the far end of the single-ringed tent, anticipating its opening. He licked his lips, feeling thirsty, looking for the people shouting out offerings for the crowd, "Get your popcorn here! Soda! Ice cream!"
The voices didn't come from any specific place but rather from all directions. So much noise it shook his body. He giggled a little and rubbed an ear. His mother turned and picked him up, smiling at him, and sat him on a seat.
She said, "You're so beautiful, my little one." Rubbed a finger on the tip of his nose.
He looked down at his dangling feet, wondering if he might fall. He reached a hand to his mother and touched her elbow. She turned and laughed, knowing he was scared. She said, "Don't worry. It's going to be fun, my love," and put her arm around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze. How he adored her. Even in this dreamy recall.
When the curtain parted, out came a parade of clowns and animals and trapeze artists, music blaring. Todd's eyes were huge with wonder – he'd never seen such a sight in his life! He watched as they paraded in front of him, jumping, juggling, and running. Todd could not move from his place on the hard folding chair. His swung his feet, one shoe untied.
The parade ended and the Ringmaster came out in a colorful tuxedo, shouting into a microphone, "Welcome, welcome to the Circus of Circuses!" By the time he walked off stage, the trapeze family was flying above his head, swinging, catching, being caught. Music played… but then... the Grim Reaper appeared, sitting across the ring directly in front of Todd, grinning and laughing beneath the trapeze artists.
Just as quickly as Death himself had appeared, Todd found himself on the edge of a trapeze platform, the night sky surrounding him instead of a tent. He was no longer a child. When he looked below him, instead of the sawdust floor or a net he stared at a wild river, hundreds of feet down. He was wearing faded jeans, a tee-shirt and a flannel shirt from ... from when?
He inched away from the ledge, backwards, reaching behind him for the pole that held the platform up. Terror gripped him, a memory whispered by. He turned around quickly at the sensation and found himself facing Death in the flesh. He wore an ugly smile. His hair, black as the starless night that covered them, was pulled back into a long ponytail, tied with several squirming worms. Black pants, alive and moving, slithered. His sheer white shirt revealed chalky white skin, blood coursing through blue and green veins, the faintest sound of the condemned rising through his hideous skin. His eyes were nothing but black pupils surrounded by blood, and his mouth a slash of bloody lips.
Todd, terrified, prayed for salvation, "God help me."
Death winced, "What, you think he's going to come and rescue you now? You think he will beam down and pluck you up like a babe drowning in an icy river, just because you asked?" Death laughed loudly and chillingly. Todd closed his eyes, remembering an equally frightening voice from his past. Death walked closer, sneering and pushing him to the edge, "You are not going to make it Thomas Todd Manning. You are going to pay for all your sins a hundredfold." Death bared his teeth, revealing more than the usual number of sharp points. "And guess who is waiting for you… in hell?"
Todd shook his head, knowing the answer, inching closer and closer to the edge of the platform. "No ... no ... no he isn't ...," he panted.
"Yes ... yes ... yes he is. Your dearly departed Daddy, Peter Manning, is so very eager."
Todd started falling, watching the water approach him fast and furiously, his body scrambling to avoid the contact. He heard another voice call for him as he fell, a sweet, promising voice. He tried to touch it ...
...but then he hit the water, hit the black, and splintered into a million pieces.
Kevin woke hard, his catnap interrupted by a gravelly and angry scream tinged with sheer terror. Todd thrashed against the restraints, pulling wildly, desperately. Because his upper arms were under the strap across his chest rather than his wrists, he reached with his hands, his head back, his whole body straining. It was a horrible sight.
Kevin got to his feet, got near the bed, seeing a level of madness beyond all memory. Couldn't help but think, he's possessed.
Todd growled like an animal at Kevin when he caught his stare.
"What am I doing here?! Untie these ropes! UNTIE THESE ROPES, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! Why am I here, why am I here, WHY?!"
He tried to kick his legs free of the straps that held him. Veins in his neck were popping, muscles in his shoulders and upper arms flexed as he pulled and shouted to be set free. But then he switched to a mewling, crying, "Ohhhhh God ... he's still inside of me ... nooo ... untie me ... untie me," Todd whimpered now, arching his back against the chest restraint and slowly rolling his head against the pillow.
Dr. Wolek had predicted anger, even rage, but this was something else entirely. Maybe the anesthesia was doing this, maybe the loss of blood ... or ... his heart stopping ... Kevin fought a wave of queasiness. He put his hands out, trying to talk to to him, "Hey, Uncle Todd, it's ok… uh you want me to get some-"
"GET ME OUT OF HERE, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"
Kevin jumped back, startled by the explosion of anger.
"You're working with him, I know it. I KNOW YOU'RE IN ON IT! You want to kill me, don't you?! Well, you're not gonna get to! He dies FIRST! Do you get me?! I'LL KILL HIM FIRST!" Todd then switched moods again, moaning and writhing, pleading, "Please, he's inside me and he's hurting me. I want to be with her, please … come on, come on, untie the ropes, let me loose! LET ME LOOSE!"
"Todd!" Kevin bent slightly towards him, trying to get him to focus. "Try to calm down ... are you ... uh ... in pain?"
He hawked at that, spitting slime at Kevin who flew back, his hand wiping the wetness from his cheek. "Shit!"
"GET ME OUTTA HERE!"
Kevin couldn't seem to help so he headed to the door and yanked it open, calling down the hall to an attendant. "Hey! Can you get a doctor, please?!"
Swallowing hard, he stepped back inside, really damn thankful his mother wasn't here to witness this.
"You, you, you…! LISTEN TO ME!" Todd argued. "He's gonna get out and he's gonna kill me and then he'll kill everyone else! GOD, you have to help me, you have to help me!" His voice changed, dropping into a mimic of convincing, working to get Kevin to help him, "Untie me ... untie me ... right here ... look, see? It's so easy … buckles, they're nothing but buckles..."
Although he looked at Kevin with wild desperation, Kevin got the distinct impression that he did not recognize him. At that moment, a doctor came into the room, file in hand, wearing a cheerful expression, "Good evening, Mr. Manning. I see you're awake. I could hear you down the hall. I'm Dr. Timothy Graham. You can call me Tim."
Tim Graham had a full head of strawberry blond hair which curled messily atop a tallish, hulking frame. Although his face appeared youthful, the crow's feet at the corners of his blue eyes revealed his true age to be in the early forties. His Birkenstock sandals, the light brown, round-framed glasses, his jeans, and cream-colored cotton sweater infused with light blue threads all confirmed him to be a California native. The most noticeable thing about Dr. Graham, though, was this natural optimism that shined off him. He had the kindest expression on his face.
Both Todd and Kevin looked at their visitor, surprised by his sudden entry into their ring. Todd, boosted at seeing a new rescuer, began to shake with fury at the doctor, demanding, "YOU! Let me outta here, untie me! You're all gonna pay for gettin' in my way! LET ME LOOSE!" He continued to thrash about, yelling out a blur of frustrated cries, sprinkled with enraged obscenities.
The doctor studied his observers briefly: one on the bed, snarling as he continued to struggle with the restraints and emitting a pained cry every so often, the other standing still with eyes big and questioning. "Well, let's get started ... I'm from University of California Medical School at Davis. Just arrived a few weeks ago. And I've been appointed to be your attending physician, Mr. Manning."
Todd was still breathing heavily but looked like he was starting to exhaust himself, his eyes closing every so often, his body just going limp at points. "Please do something," he moaned, "just do something. Why'd you tie me up? Don't you know what you're DOING?! You're asking for Armageddon YOU FUCKERS!" Todd then screamed out in frustration, wordless, agonized yelling.
Dr. Graham put the files he carried on the counter. He went up to Todd, placed his right hand on the side of Todd's head. Todd tried to get away from the touch, straining, but the doctor went ahead and flashed a penlight into his eyes several times, "Ok, Mr. Manning, do you know where you are?"
Todd jerked his head away from the doctor, his eyes moving all about the room, landing on everything, staying on nothing. "Oh he's here, he's here, oh yeah, he's here..." Todd was breathless and continued to struggle, moans interrupting his few coherent sentences.
"Do you know what year it is?" Dr. Graham carefully moved the blanket that covered Todd, pushing it down slightly. Todd didn't react to that.
But when the doctor lifted the gown, presumably to see the wounds Dr. Wolek mentioned, Todd screamed bloody murder, "What are you doing?! Get away from me! No! I SAID NO! STOP TOUCHING ME! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"
Tim pulled back hard. "Whoa, I'm just examining you, just looking. Your file says that you have some other injuries. I won't touch. I know it's still feels invasive. I'm sorry. Gonna make it quick." There was no response, no awareness. Todd screamed like someone was killing him. The doctor looked at his belly and lower. Kevin looked away as the doctor had exposed him briefly to look at those specific burns, ignoring the screams. He furrowed his brows, muttered, "Yeah, definitely cigarettes." Pulled the gown back down, pushed the blanket up, saying soothingly, "All done, kiddo. All done." He listened to the screams, then asked, "I don't suppose you can tell me why you did that to yourself, huh? Must have hurt like a bitch. That's a lot of burns, kiddo. I'm so sorry."
Kevin was really glad his mom wasn't here. This was painful to see, to hear, all around. And he didn't even like Todd. Maybe the guy knew what he was doing when he wrote Kevin in as a medical proxy.
Todd continued with his waking nightmare, straining against the straps, crying real tears, mewling like a cat in a trap. Tim watched him struggle with that same look of concern. A face full of deep empathy. This was not a man who took his work lightly, or took his patients for granted.
Todd shifted again, fighting instead of crying, jerking hard against the straps, desperate to get away from an imagined attack, "No! Get away, you bastard, you sick, sick bastard! STOP TOUCHING ME!"
The doctor checked Todd's bandages and restraints, asking with a very matter-of-fact tone, "Todd, can you tell me what city you were born in?" He noted the various monitors and then looked back at Todd thrashing about and literally growling. He waited for a response, "Todd?"
The patient was oblivious to the questions, continuing to rage at his faceless, nameless observers, and jerking violently at his restraints.
"I gotta get outta here! Untie me! Untie me! He's gonna KILL me! He's KILLING me! Ohhh … you fucked this up ... you did, you did ... gimme my blade ... give it back to me!"
The doctor turned and pressed the intercom next to the door, "Uh, yeah, get me the sedative we talked about. Thanks." The doctor had gone to the counter and started writing some notes in the file.
Todd suddenly stiffened his entire body, grimacing as if in severe pain, "Ohhhh…..Satan's inside of me ... oh I can feel him crawling and moving and he's gonna kill me. Ohhhh I gotta do it first ... I have to kill 'im... ohhhh..." He writhed against the straps, his features twisting, his face wet from sweat and tears now. The bed shook with a sudden onset of violent trembling, "You have to help me kill him ... please, please, please ... oh god, oh god ... I can feel him inside of me ... please please please please…"
Dr. Graham stopped his writing and was leaning on the counter. He listened to Todd with his eyebrows furrowed like before, concentrating on the disclosures.
"I bet that's why you cut yourself, huh, Todd?" The doctor said this more to himself than anyone who might be listening. But Todd sort of answered Tim's question, Tim's eyebrows raising, surprised.
"Yeah, yeah, it's the only way, don't you see? He's killing me, then he'll be killing everyone else ... Armageddon, Armageddon ... oh please, please, it's not fair ... I don't want him to eat me up ... don't let him do that ... I have to get to him and then I can be with Michelle and my mom and Georgie."
Kevin looked up at that, drawn to Todd's mention of Michelle's and Georgie's names. But nothing else of import followed.
"Ohhh they're waiting for me... don't you get that? Don't you understand? Don't you? Don't let me die like this, let me at him… let me do something good for once… please please please…." Todd was so sad now, crying, tears flowing freely. He cried so hard he could hardly breathe.
Kevin looked away, finding his own eyes wetting. He'd never seen Todd like this before, never knew he was even capable of crying. He cursed at the sheer raw emotion, knowing it would switch to mad rage in an instant.
"Yeah, I understand, Todd, I do," the doctor said empathetically. "We're going to help you. I promise. You just have to be patient." The doctor moved back to Todd, his hands on the railing, asking, "Todd, are you on any drugs?"
Of course there was no response. He shifted to the screaming again at seeing the doctor, the fighting beginning again, the cursing.
A young attendant came in with a metal container in her hand. She picked up a syringe and seeing Dr. Graham approve the medication she said she had, applied it to Todd's intravenous line. She waited, watching to see if Todd would calm. He did. He immediately began to show the effects of the sedative, his voice quieting, his muscles relaxing, "Ohhh - you don't know what it's like to be eaten alive ... it hurts ... it hurts ... oh, Michelle, I'm so sorry ... why am I still here ... lemme finish the job ... you fucking fucking bastards ..."
The calm seemed to flow visibly from head to toe. He closed his eyes, fighting to keep them open, but having no chance of it. "Ok, ok," he murmured, "I'll be good. I'll be better. I'm sorry, I'm sorry ..." Moaning softly, he closed his eyes, unable to fight for the time being.
Dr. Graham nodded at the nurse, "He's ready. Let's move him."
Kevin flopped down on the chair and covered his face with his hands. After a moment, he looked at the doctor who was standing over Todd once again and asked, "What the hell is wrong with him? This is not the Todd Manning we've all come to know and love. I mean, I've called him a lunatic on occasion, well, maybe on a lot of occasions, but this ... this is a different thing altogether."
The doctor turned to Kevin, smiling sympathetically, "A little scary?"
"Yeah, scary as hell. And really sad and let me tell you I never feel sad for this guy."
"He's not a nice person?"
"You don't read the news much, do you?"
"I try to avoid it. Also, haven't been in Llanview long."
"So no, he's not a nice guy."
The doctor smiled, "He does have some medical history. Concussions. A bad facial wound. Some other stuff. He's got prison tattoos. Statesville?"
"Yeah," Kevin groused. "That's not in his file?"
Another smile. "No, you're thinking of a rap sheet. I just get medical stuff for now. I'll catch up. What was he in prison for?"
Shaking his head, sighing again, "Rape, kidnapping, assault, some other shit just as ugly."
"Ah. Explains why he's 'not a nice guy.'"
"And that's just the technical violations."
The doctor crossed his thick arms. Got a soft look on his face. Smile gone. "Must be something good in him. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."
That hit Kevin hard for some reason. Made him sad, uncomfortable. "I guess," he said, his voice trailing some. Thinking about it. Eyes on the speckles of the linoleum floor. Of course there were good things. "He's a father. Really loves his daughter. And she loves him. Only knows him as good. And...uh… some women have really loved him. My mom is his sister. She's got a lot of space for him." He sighed and thought about stupid times at the frat house, times where they laughed until it hurt. "He can be funny. He's kind to people who work for him. Smart at business, made a lot of money." Kevin grew quiet. Shook his head at the thing that brought him back to Llanview.
The good thing he did way long ago.
"He saved the life of the woman he raped. Car accident and… he pulled her out. It got him sent back to prison. Yeah."
The doctor didn't say anything. Point proven. Just nodded.
"So what's wrong with him, Doc? You can be straight with me. I'm the medical decision guy." He smiled.
"Kevin… right?"
"Yeah."
"Awesome. So, your uncle is delusional, confused, paranoid. He doesn't respond to my questions appropriately, but ... unfortunately, I can't tell you the cause right now. I'm thinking this is drug-induced but I don't see puncture marks or real deterioration or any other typical presentation of use but we're not done with a full tox screen." He walked to Todd again, studying him. Glanced at Kevin. "Does he look like he's lost weight to you?"
"Hard to tell, honestly. Certainly hasn't gained any."
"Notice any changes recently in behavior, demeanor, habits?"
"Well, yeah. He's been really volatile for some time. Heavy depression recently despite good news on legal matters. Should have improved and he didn't."
"Okay, good to know. I'm still thinking drugs. We've run some initial neuro tests which are coming up negative. We'll do more tomorrow. And we'll consider other psychological disorders like bipolar disorder or late-onset schizoid disorder. It could be a lot of things based on his file, and what you're saying now."
The doctor paused, appearing to be lost in thought. Then he continued in a softer tone, "Whatever it is, he is in a lot of danger. With this type of delusion, he will kill himself if left to his own devices, I can assure you of that. The messages he's receiving are overpowering and impossible to fight from his position. What he feels, what he believes is happening, it's all very real to him. The violence he inflicted on himself proves how real it is. This wasn't a typical suicide attempt."
"What do we do?"
"Try to get to the cause. Once we figure that out, we can choose a therapy. Lots of possibilities. He'll get better, I promise."
"Not a quick fix, I take it."
"We'll see. But… just in case, get strapped in. You might be in for a long, wild ride."
"He did what?!" Blair's voice shot through the crisp air in the doorway to her Aunt Dorian's home.
"He tried to kill himself—"
"I know what you said!" She turned around and stormed back into the foyer.
"I was hoping that you'd ... help him, maybe -"
"Help?! You're kidding, right?!"
"No ... no, I'm not. I don't want him to think he's alone-"
"Viki! Newsflash! He IS alone! Todd's been...so damn self-absorbed that, guess what, if he dies, I WON'T CARE. It's obviously something he wants and who am I to get in his way?! At least I'll be able to get on with my life and give Starr a stable life instead of this roller coaster!" Blair yelled out a frustrated wordless sound.
Viki hadn't really anticipated what Blair's reaction would be but felt it was better to tell her about Todd in person than over the telephone. She had been so tired and had already put off telling Blair for well over an hour. She also decided to do it alone so she sent Sam home.
"Do you at least want me to call you when I find out more?"
"Don't bother." Standing in front of Viki, she rubbed her temples in aggravation. When she saw Viki's saddened expression, Blair tried to explain, "Look, I can't get sucked back into this cycle again. There was a time when I thought I could comfort him ... that his problems, our problems, wouldn't matter because WE had money and ... a house. I used to think we were saner together ... stronger together ... but I was wrong. I have no effect on him. Nothing does. So it's up to me. I have to look out for myself and our daughter, since he's chosen something ELSE to do."
"Blair, you can't hide."
"Hiding?! Who's hiding? That's Todd's m.o. I'm surviving!"
"Honey, 'surviving' and 'getting better' are not the same, trust me, I know. But sometimes, 'hiding' and 'surviving' are interchangeable."
"Then why am I NOT lying in some hospital, cut up?! No, Viki, I'm surviving, he's been hiding. I AM better because I have to be. And if he doesn't feel surviving is important ... then why the hell should I bother with him? Why the hell should I drag our precious little girl into his nightmare? Again?!"
Viki sighed, trying to understand. She nodded a goodbye and left Blair to deal with her anger, with her hurt.
Once home, Viki sat in the library in front of a fire, watching the flames dance. She realized Todd had spent much of the last few years battling Blair in court, out of court. The time they spent together before that, as a couple, had been difficult with messy ups and downs. Although not an easy wife, Blair had been important to Todd in that she'd been part of his unorthodox gateway to the proverbial straight-and-narrow life which seemed to evade him anyway. Having a wife, a child, money … it was all part of his search for acceptance.
A convicted rapist.
She knew Todd had had therapy while in jail to deal with his crimes. Viki had sometimes wondered what he and Blair dealt with... from a sexual point of view. She wondered how his violent past affected his personal life. Viki knew what she had to deal with as a rape victim with regards to her marital duties. Surely, the instigator would have difficulties, too. Surely, a man who raped someone would have confusion or ... fear ... or ... something... when dealing with normal sexual activity. But, based on the fact that they had a daughter, she assumed Todd had gotten past whatever issues compelled him to rape Marty.
A rapist.
She remembered reading that many rapists have been sexually abused at some point in their life. Kevin was right. It was interesting that no defense attorney had explored that or even suggested it. At least, not that she knew of.
But she also knew why people might not have suggested it. He was different than other victims, too powerful a force to have been one, too strong, too… male. MEN not sexual abuse victims. There were times she doubted he was even ever a child.
The truth was, Viki personally avoided thinking of WHY he raped.
Anger, she had concluded, and moved on. But now there was no hiding from the "why." Now, she thought perhaps his criminal conduct was evidence of something much darker than just anger. The burns on his private areas screamed sexual abuse. And that hurt. She didn't want to think of her brother as having been victimized ... like she had been.
She shuddered at the memory of those burns, so many of them. Such intentional work. What state of mind can someone be in to consciously light a cigarette and place it against skin? Holding it there long enough to burn through? The concept horrified her and the image of Todd doing this to himself just plain broke her.
On the other hand, didn't Todd always self-mutilate? Always wrecking his life at some point or another, intentionally? Whatever the cause, it would mean a hellish recovery. She sighed and hoped sexual abuse would not intrude into the Lord family once again. She hoped that wasn't part of the "why."
Viki watched those flames burn before her and found herself crying. She cried for her own past pain and she cried knowing that Todd had been all alone in utter agony thinking that the only way out was through his death.
My God ... what secret is he hiding from?
The next morning, as Kevin slept, he dreamed he was being chased by a monstrous tiger. His foot caught the underbrush in the nighttime wood causing him to fall. There on the ground, he lay facing Todd's decaying body, his face contorted by death. Kevin was trapped by a creeping vine that had wrapped itself around him, not allowing him to escape the tiger or his gruesome discovery.
Just as the approaching creature was about to pounce on him, he woke up.
As he and Cassie ate lunch at home, Kevin read the investigator's report which Todd had so dramatically given him. He learned that Michelle had committed suicide by throwing herself into the New River in West Virginia, a river marked by harsh white rapids, pretty much guaranteeing death. This had to have played a significant role in Todd's decision to kill himself. A copy suicide? Or was it guilt over contributing to her suicide in some way?
Those questions led to a more basic one: who was Michelle to Todd and could she speak to Kevin from 'beyond the grave'?
Kevin knew then what he was going to do with the next few weeks of his life. Perhaps the blood on his hands would be washed clean. He still felt guilty. It was still Kevin who had uncovered the "Michelle Factor" at all. Maybe if the thing had stayed buried, Todd wouldn't have done what he did.
On the other hand, maybe Michelle was a needed event. There are no coincidences in life. Maybe uncovering Michelle NOW would help Todd in the long run.
Sam went down to the courthouse to pull Todd's file on his forced commitment to Llanview Psychiatric Hospital. He wasn't surprised to find the file sealed by Judge Austin Campbell. How many other files are ordered sealed by that Judge, he wondered? Not that Todd wasn't fit for hospitalization - he was more than fit.
Sam poked his head into the law library, considering his plan for the morning. He ran his eyes across the shelves occupied by brilliant texts of the greatest legal minds and wished they could help him understand what happened.
Guilt ate at him. He'd known Todd since he was a boy. And fact is, he stood by in silence many times during Todd's life even though he knew he was in trouble. Peter had actually called him after Marty's rape, and said, "Have you heard what my stupid son has done? Can you get out there? Be his defense?" Sam had turned him down. Said to use a local attorney. Always better than to get a big city lawyer. Now, though, he wondered, was he ever really Todd's friend?
Sam left the library and headed directly for the End of the Road Cocktail Lounge, a sleazy bar right outside the city limits of Llanview. Always open, always waiting for sick-hearted souls to come in and leave the cross they bear at the door, their money on the counter. A vision of scotch and whiskey in short thick glasses made his mouth water and the pain lessen. He drove a little too fast. Better now to break speeding laws than when drunk.
As he drove out of Llanview, he noticed about 10 reporters hounding Dr. Larry Wolek for information in front of the hospital. God, he thought, and pressed his foot on the gas harder.
To Be Continued …