Separation Anxiety

Part Five

Confined to a straightjacket in a padded room, Mork sat slumped on the floor, leaning uncomfortably to one side and unable to right himself with his limbs so tightly restricted. He wondered how his powers had abandoned him. If he could only have them back, he could free himself in mere minutes. There was something this doctor was doing to him, some strange power he had over him, that had somehow managed to deactivate them, to keep him as this man's prisoner and convince Mindy that she never knew him. If only he could figure out how, maybe he could reverse everything. Maybe he could get back to the way things were before his accident had ripped their lives apart. Then again, he thought grimly, maybe this man was right. Maybe he was insane. He watched as the doctor entered, looking too smug and handsome for such a place. He glared at him sullenly.

"Well Mork, how are you feeling? It's nice to have you back," Alan said, helping Mork to sit upright.

The expression in Mork's eyes softened. "When can I get out of here?" He asked.

"That all depends on you. I told you this was the price you would have to pay for your misbehavior."

Mork stared blankly into the distance. "She looked so much like the Mindy I know," he said. "It had to be her. Why didn't she know me?"

Alan smiled, doing his best to look kind and understanding. "I've been married to Mindy for three years now," he said. "Mork, she's my wife. She has nothing to do with your fixation. You just happened to see an attractive woman who happens to have the same name as your delusion, and you altered your thoughts to fit the facts as you see them. She isn't, nor has she ever been, your girlfriend. Did you see how she looked at you? She's never met you until yesterday."

"Yesterday? How long have I been in here?" Mork asked, looking around the padded room.

"Twelve hours. Most of that time you spent heavily medicated. I'm sorry, Mork, but you must understand. You were uncontrollable. You were in the same highly agitated state you were in when you attacked the nurse. We couldn't afford to take any chances and risk another violent outburst from you."

"I still don't remember attacking anyone," Mork said. He looked at Alan, challenging him. "I don't think I ever did."

"Believe what you wish, but you did, Mork. You're a violent patient with a history of psychotic episodes. You have to be closely monitored."

"But I'm fine now. I'm calm. Can't you let me out of here?"

"Out of the jacket and this room? Certainly. Out of this hospital? I'm afraid not."

"You still don't believe me, do you?" Mork asked. "I know Mindy. I know her very well, and she isn't with you. She's with me."

Alan scoffed. "Even if you were right, which you aren't, do you really think she would be better off with someone like you? Someone who is mentally unstable? I can provide for her, you see. I can give her the stability she needs. I can provide her with a good home."

"I used to be able to do that for her too, until you took it all away from me," Mork said sadly.

"Are you listening to yourself? Your paranoia is manifesting itself again. What power do I have to take anything away from you? I'm a doctor. I'm trying to help you, not harm you. I wish you would believe me and allow your therapy a chance to work. Perhaps if you show some signs of improvement, you will eventually be released and you can find a Mindy for your own."

"I don't want any other Mindy," Mork said, sighing. "I want the one you've taken from me. I want her back."

Alan shrugged. "I'll give you a few more hours in here to think about it," he said, a cruel smile forming on his lips.

"Wait! No, please…please, don't do this to me!" Mork shouted, squirming in the jacket.

The door to the padded room opened.

"This patient is still violently psychotic," Alan said to the guard. "I'm leaving him in here for a while longer. Watch this door and make sure that he doesn't attempt to escape."

"Wait! Don't do this! Don't leave me!" Mork screamed, his shouts drowned out as the heavy door slammed shut.

Mindy waited for a day when she knew Alan wouldn't be at the hospital to return during visiting hours, reusing the security badge that had been issued to her during her first visit. She showed it to the nurse at the front desk station, hoping that it would work and she could gain access. The woman, an overweight nurse with coarse hair that looked as if it had the texture of wrought iron, looked at her skeptically.

"I'm sorry, but you're not allowed in there," she said, shaking her head and smirking with an air of superiority, her cynical expression showing that she had seen everything and wasn't easily fooled.

"Please," Mindy said. "I'm here to visit a patient."

"Are you a relative?"

"No."

"Then you can't go back there. Visiting hours are for family only."

"Wait," Mindy said. "I'm Dr. Friedman's wife."

"Dr. Friedman? That hotshot doctor who volunteers his time by counseling some of the patients in here?"

"Yes, that's right. He told me I could come. You see, I'm studying to be a psychiatrist myself."

The nurse raised her frizzy eyebrows. "Two shrinks in one marriage, huh?" She asked, rolling her eyes. "Lord help us. Does he know you're here?"

"Who?"

"Your husband, dear."

"Uh…yes, yes he does."

The nurse frowned at her. "Maybe I should give him a call at his practice, just to make sure," she said.

"No—please, don't do that. He's very busy with clients, and I don't want to bother him at his office during his sessions," she said. "He knows I'm here. He told me not to call him unless there was an emergency."

"Uh-huh," the nurse said, studying Mindy carefully. "All right, I guess you can go back. You seem trustworthy enough."

Mindy sighed with relief. "Thank you," she said.

"Who are you here to see?"

"Huh?"

"What's the patient's name, darling?"

"Oh, sorry. Mork, his name is Mork."

"Mork? I thought he was still under lockdown. I'd better check to make sure his visiting privileges have been returned to him."

"Lockdown?" Mindy asked, growing concerned, thinking about the last time she saw him being dragged away by the security guards. "What does that mean?"

"Honey, you're the one studying to be a psychiatrist. You should know. When a patient becomes violent, we have to confine them for a certain period of time before they're considered fit to be released back into the general hospital population. Mork is one of our more violent and unpredictable patients, so great caution has to be exercised with him. He's placed in lockdown a lot. This most recent stay has lasted longer than the others."

"Oh God," Mindy said. "I can't help but feel a little responsible for that."

"Why would you be responsible?"

"I visited him before, with my husband," she said. "He acted like he knew me and became upset, but he wasn't violent, not in the least. He was just lost and confused. He doesn't seem like he's capable of violence, unless he's acting to defend himself."

"That's not what your husband told me," the nurse said. "He told me that man should be kept under strict observation. I've seen him, too. I was on duty the night they brought him in. He was totally out of it, screaming and raving and thrashing around like a wild animal, biting the hands of arms of the security guards. He's a little guy that one, but he's incredibly strong. It took at least ten men to subdue him, and even then he somehow managed to break free. He stabbed one of the nurses in the leg with a knife he found in the hospital kitchen. She's all right, thank God, but he could have caused her some serious damage. He has a wild, confused look to his eyes, too. I hope you know what you're getting into."

Mindy tensely held her breath for a moment. "So do I," she said, exhaling deeply as she released it.

The nurse picked up the phone to check on Mork's status. When she was done, she hung up, looking at Mindy with a scowl.

"You're in luck," she said. "He's been released from lockdown this morning. He's in the recreation room. You can see him in there."

Mindy entered the recreation room, finding little happening in there that resembled recreation at all, patients milling about listlessly staring at a TV with poor reception or sitting absently in front of a battered checker board, not engaged in a game. She found Mork sitting alone at one of the battered, lopsided tables, staring out the barred window. He was a little scruffier than when she last saw him, but he still looked healthy to her and out of place. He seemed so sedate that she could never imagine him becoming violent, as her husband claimed, but then again she knew he could be medicated. Like many other things about Alan, she was beginning to wonder if he was lying about that, too. What was his particular interest in this patient? She wondered. Why was he keeping him under such strict observation, as the nurse had called it? She intended to find out, curious about him. She approached him with caution, sitting down across from him.

"Hello Mork," she said softly, hoping not to startle him. She smiled. "Do you remember me? I was here the other day."

Mork continued to stare out the window.

"I want you to know I was appalled by the way they treated you. I hope you're all right."

Mork sighed. "Please, don't pity me," he said. "I don't think I could bear it."

"All right then, let's just talk."

Mork maintained his gaze out the window, saying nothing.

"Come on, I know you want to talk. You must be lonely."

Mork looked at her for the first time, and she noticed that that the clear blue eyes she had seen from her last visit were now bloodshot and moist with tears.

"You've always been very kind to me," he said, smiling sadly. "I've missed you."

She thought about how sweet he was, how innocent he seemed. He didn't fit the image of a violent, rampaging madman. If anything, he was lost and sad, desperate for the affection that such a hostile, brutal environment could not supply. She wondered if that was why he believed he knew her. She was the only one who treated him with compassion, made him feel normal and worthy of love.

"Mork, do you remember how you got here?" She asked.

"No…all I remember was that I was in an accident, and then somehow I ended up here."

"Accident?" Mindy asked, reminded of her recurring dream.

Mork nodded. "A car accident," he said. He noticed that she appeared deep in thought. "What is it, Mindy?"

She supposed she should have felt uncomfortable the way he addressed her so informally, as if they had known each other for years and were intimate partners, but she liked how he spoke to her. His voice was warm and comforting, revealing a certain amount of friendliness that her husband's voice lacked.

"It may be nothing," she said. "It's just…it's weird that you mentioned a car accident. I've been having dreams about a car accident. The details are a little vague, but in my dream I'm always frantically rushing to the scene, as if I know the person involved."

"That's because it's not a dream. It really happened. It happened to both of us, and the moment it happened our lives were ripped apart."

"I don't know. Could it be real? Could you be right? It seems so strange that you and I would share the same experience. It does seem like a little more than a coincidence, that's for sure."

A burly orderly appeared, towering over them, his expression dour and menacing.

"Come on Mork, visiting hours are over," he said. "It's time to go back to your room and take your medication."

Mork looked at Mindy, wanting to stay with her a little while longer.

"You heard me," the orderly said. "Don't make me get the guards. You don't want a repeat of last time."

Mindy shuddered, remembering Mork's tormented screams as the security guards dragged him away.

"You'd better go," she said gently. "Come on."

Mork nodded sadly. "You don't have to believe me," he said as he stood. "I'm just asking you to have the courage to consider it. We knew each other once, Mindy. We loved each other. I hope, someday, that we can love each other again."

The orderly grabbed his arm, forcibly pulling him away, but he wrenched himself free.

"Now Mork," the orderly warned.

"I'll go," Mork said. "You don't have to grab me."

The orderly stared at him, considering whether he could trust him.

"All right," he said, "but no funny business. If you attack me, I'll have the guards pouncing on you so fast you won't know what hit you."

"I won't attack you."

"Then let's go."

Mork followed the orderly back towards the ward like a dutiful child, not wishing to cause a scene and upset Mindy. He glanced back at her longingly, holding his gaze for as long as he could before they reached the secure doors. He managed a shy smile, waving at her before he disappeared behind the heavy, barred doors, locking tightly shut behind him.

As Mindy watched him leave, she had noticed something unusual, something she couldn't explain. When Mork passed the unused checkerboard, the pieces arranged on the board in a suspended mid-game placement, he absently moved one forward with his finger, but not in the usual way a human being would move it. His finger didn't even graze the piece, yet somehow it moved as if it had a will of its own. He didn't even seem to notice, as if he had willed it to move subconsciously. She began to doubt her own sanity, wondering if she had imagined it. Yet she had seen it clearly. He hadn't touched the game piece. Nothing was attached to it to make it move that way, like an invisible wire that a magician might use to perform such a feat. Somehow, he had moved it without touching it or manipulating it in any way. She left the hospital wondering what she had seen, wondering what it could mean. Also, she began to realize that she was starting to believe him.