Episode 12- Voices
The itsy bitsy spider, climbed up the water spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Come out, come out, out!
Itsy bitsy spider….
Jenkins was outrageously excited to be in on Grant’s nefarious plan. Grant refused to explain it in full detail, but the task of collecting spiders was good enough for Jenkins. He was back on Grant’s good side, and even forgave him for defacing his beloved Pat Benetar. It still hung on the wall.
“Do you want me to get you a new one?” Grant asked every time Jenkins’ eyes passed over her leather skirt and pouting lips with newly emblazoned bloody fangs and horns; Jenkins had wiped the mustache off with spit and the corner of his gown.
He flopped a beefy arm over Grant’s shoulder, hugged him close and whispered.
Heartache to heartache we stand
No promises no demands,
Love is a battlefield.
He suddenly leapt backward, arms raised and danced to the rest of the tune Molly Ringwald-esque. His fuzzy slippered feet bobbed with arms swimming wildly; Jenkins’ smile was jack-o-lantern wide; he wasn’t wearing underwear.
“Man, sometimes you really freak my shit out.”
They had fashioned a spider case out of arts and crafts supplies: Popsicle sticks, paste, masking tape, construction paper. Jenkins cut out little stars and hearts and purple horse shoes to paste along the sides. It was a structurally sound enclosure with lid, and Dr. Jill was happy to see Grant creating art again, even if it was sophomoric and confusing.
“Why a paper box?”
Blame it on Jenkins. Tell her he needs a special place that you can’t see or touch.
“Jenkins wanted somewhere to put his things. He wanted a safe place. I promised never to destroy anything in his box.”
“Oh, Grant. I’m glad you and Jenkins are creating trust together again. I was sad to see you fighting.”
Her tone was more condescending than usual. She had that “you’re a crazy bastard sound”; Grant didn’t like it. They hadn’t had sex in over a week. He was trying to be “normal”, but normality and collecting spiders in a mental hospital are mutually exclusive events.
Jenkins collected most of the spiders. His behavior was always bizarre, and seeing his naked ass in the air was an accepted site around the hospital. No one looked twice at Jenkins; things were different for Grant.
He was on a close watch now. His explosive outbursts of violence and catatonic states were the talk of the hospital. No one knew how his treatment had changed or why his condition appeared to be worsening. Dr. Jill was being more distant, and the chief of staff was attributing that to his behaviors.
“Doctor, I’m not sure why you have been removing yourself from this patient’s case; your intimacy with him appeared to be helping. You were making break-throughs. We’d like you to begin seeing him in private session every day. The hospital is counting on you.”
Jill almost choked on her bagel. What did they know about intimacy? She tried to appear serene, but her mind was racing wildly, “Sir, I’m not sure if his positive affect was due to my…”
“Nonsense, Doctor. You are instrumental in his recovery. I attribute his recent negative attention seeking behavior to the removal of your private sessions. Whatever you were doing before was working. Keep it up, Kid.” He elbowed her in the ribs and winked; he didn’t know.
Jenkins scuttled by on hands and knees. His open gown exposed dangling scrotum. She had never realized how large his penis really was. Even enveloped by his rotund 300 pounds, it was a good 11 inches flaccid. God had a remarkable sense of humor; she doubted that member would ever find a moist hole other than that of a neighbor’s dog. Grant asked if he could purchase a prostitute for Jenkins on his 40th birthday, but she assumed he was joking; Jenkins was 33.
“Doctor, Can I help you with something?”
She tore her eyes from Jenkins to see Nurse Kitty’s concerned face.
“I’m fine. Umm, I have to see Grant. Do you know where he is?”
“He’s not hiding in Jenkins’ ass, if that’s where you were looking.”
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment