BY REASON OF INSANITY by Edward L. Woodyard

By Reason of Insanity Chapter Thirty-Four

Suddenly, I was scared and nervous. Stuart held a green hospital gown for Duke while Barbara wiped an alcohol pad on Duke's upper left arm. I administered the shot and returned the syringe to Barbara.

Stuart then quietly approached a compliant Duke and slipped the hospital gown on him. Duke was alert before the effects of the Thorazine took hold, asking me, "How'd you do it? Talk me out of it?"

I assured Duke that his actions were all conscious decisions by him. "I let you do it. You did it all by yourself."

"How'd you know I wasn't going to kill you instead?"

I didn't know that, but I wasn't going to share my fear with him. He had to know that I was confident and in control. He was getting sleepy but still talking, "I've been thinking about my childhood, Adam. But it's not easy. It's like when a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. He doesn't remember being a caterpillar. He remembers being a little butterfly. Right?"

Stuart saw that Duke was getting weak and motioned for two orderlies to enter the wardroom to catch him as he fell forward.

"I'll visit you tomorrow after your sedation wears off."

The young police officer took the Ruger revolver from me as Stuart and the orderlies caught Duke and laid him on the linoleum floor. Barbara helped guide a gurney to him as Elaine rushed toward him. As I was helping Stuart and the orderlies hoist a sedated Duke onto the gurney, Barbara had overheard Duke's last comment and began to address Stuart, "Psychiatrists are obsessed with the events in their patients' childhoods. It keeps them from growing up."

I could see that Stuart thought her questioning inappropriate for the moment, but decided to humor her, "Them? The psychiatrists or their patients?"

"Both," she said emphatically, "since both are more concerned with reliving their pasts than with facing the problems of the world."

"And what are those?" asked Elaine who seemed amused by what was transpiring.

"In today's world, all mysteries are problems. In yesterday's world, you never worried about them. They just were. And you got on with your life."

Barbara then smiled widely at both Elaine and Stuart. My attention was on Duke who was now strapped to the gurney and being wheeled into the corridor past a gawking crowd. Even though he couldn't hear me, I walked beside Duke, assuring him, "You'll be fine, my friend. We'll get through this together."

Duke was pushed to another elevator to be transported to a secondary wing of the hospital. He was now also Stuart's patient and would be under good care. I was curious to know what any bloodwork would show. Elaine went with Duke into the elevator.

Barbara Gould approached me at the nurses' station. "This is more than a coincidence, Dr. Holliman. You. Me. Here. Together. Again."

I didn't need to hear from another psychotic just then, no matter how exceptional a nurse she was. I was numb from dealing with Duke. I had no reaction to what Barbara was saying.

She announced to me, "I'm much better. No tumor. Thank you again for all you did."

"I'm glad you weren't hurt and are doing so well. Thank you for your help just now." I didn't know if she heard me or not. I went to the thick metal door to exit the psychiatric ward. As I paused to be allowed to exit, I was still reeling from how stunned and shocked I was at what Duke had done.

Barbara Gould continued to talk to me while I waited to get buzzed out, "He really shouldn't kill himself. People commit suicide because they somehow think that they can start all over again with a clean slate and new rules. As we both know, what they do instead is to destroy the slate for good. It's dumb."

I chose not to acknowledge Barbara. The buzzer allowed me to press against a crossbar on the thick metal door and to start toward the elevator. Still Barbara went on, "You didn't even ask me what my name is."

The thick metal door shut behind me and I walked to the elevator. I pressed the down button and stared at the elevator doors until they opened and I walked on. I was the only passenger.

I was numb. I was depressed.

There was just one question: why?

I had to know his reason why. I would go back through my notes and tapes.

As I waited for the elevator doors to close, I saw a figure in the wire mesh window of the thick metal door of the psychiatric ward. I thought it was the would-be cleric in his black cassock and clerical collar. He was pointing to his closed Bible and then waving at me.

Or was he?

The elevator doors closed before I knew for certain. Would I ever know anything again would be for certain? Had I ever known anything had ever been for certain?

Nothing was ever certain.

About that I was certain.