The Complete Collection. William Wharton

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СКАЧАТЬ Swift or William Faulkner or, more recently, Tolkien. It takes an extremely intelligent, strong-willed and imaginative person.

      ‘Your father’s used all his tremendous capacities on his dream, totally independent of his daily life. Apparently he could find no use for them there. He’s constructed, created, a personal existence more to his liking. His is a private, complete and apparently satisfying world.’

      He leans back farther in his chair and runs his fingers along the arms. A sneak-up smile begins to creep across his face.

      ‘Sometimes already, I’ve had a difficult time keeping distance listening to your father. His fantasy is so compact, so texturally rich and at the same time idyllic. He’s like a medieval spellbinder explaining the nature of paradise. And he’s constructed this fantasy like a novel; one that fulfills his deepest desires. Most people participate in others’ fantasies through films, books or TV, but he has his own and it’s totally personal; more than that, it’s built into his life. I’m not sure he can ever let go, or even should, totally.’

      I don’t know whether to ask or not. But this guy’s a psychiatrist, this is what he’s paid for.

      ‘Dr Delibro, I know this sounds off the wall, but what’s the chance Dad’s on some other time continuum or slipped gears somehow and is really experiencing all this?’

      Delibro looks at me carefully. I’m already wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. In one sentence I’ve blown whatever credibility I had.

      ‘I know; it’s hard to believe he’s made it all up. I’ve had the eerie feeling he’s only drawing back a curtain, letting me see something visible to him, something real.’

      He stops, stares at his fingertips.

      ‘But we can’t work on that hypothesis, Mr Tremont. We must work within what we know if we’re going to help. It doesn’t matter much in terms of his immediate problem whether this is a dream construct or some time-warp phenomenon. Let’s not turn your Dad into another Bridey Murphy, OK?’

      He looks up at me and smiles. He’s right.

      ‘As I see it, the first thing we want to discover is what’s wrong with his daily life so he feels the need to build this other world.’

      He’s getting to the core of things fast. I try not to show much.

      ‘At first, I wasn’t sure if this mightn’t be only a short-duration delusion resulting from the trauma of his hospital experience, his coma and his fear of cancer.’

      ‘Has he ever told you about his abnormal fear of cancer? He actually has images of this disease, feelings verging on the psychotic. My background is Catholic and I recognize some of his projections as evil, the devil. He personalizes cancer as an enemy intent on removing him, devouring all he loves.’

      Wow, Dad didn’t hold back much. This Delibro’s good if he got him to talk about cancer.

      ‘But I’m convinced now his “dream” has been going on a long time, perhaps thirty years or more. It’s become the mainspring of his inner life. And his inner life has been totally isolated from his outer life. That’s dangerous business, Mr Tremont; it’s amazing he’s been able to function at all. It’s no wonder his wife’s illness, the shock of the operation, being removed from a stable environment, the news of his cancer caused him to retreat into his available “other” world.’

      I’m beginning to worry about Dad out there alone. I’m still carrying in my mind all those disappearances.

      ‘Your father’s a charming man. It’s rare finding anyone over seventy with such a boylike quality, an interest and curiosity in things. I see many old people, and a good part of being old is increased rigidity, loss of vitality and a general decline in curiosity and humor. But with your father this isn’t true. What concerns me most is what forced him to develop his fantasy? What could be so wrong in his life?’

      ‘Doctor, I wish you’d talk to my mother. I think it will help you understand Dad better.’

      ‘I was going to ask if that could be possible. In listening to your father, I sensed theirs has been a close union and she might be able to give me some insights.’

      Should I tell him? Would he rather find out for himself? I should at least warn him.

      ‘Dr Delibro, my mother’s a very difficult woman. I’m not sure I can get her to come.’

      He leans forward in the chair. Sherlock Holmes hearing the dog that didn’t bark.

      ‘Please tell me anything about her you think I should know.’

      What a great way to put it. That must be a straight textbook phrase. It’s so encouraging and yet so ambiguous. What the hell, anything to help.

      ‘Dr Delibro, Mom’s already had two severe nervous breakdowns. When she’s threatened she strikes out; and she’s easily threatened.

      ‘She’s convinced that marrying my father was the biggest mistake of her life; still, emotionally, she’s absolutely dependent on him.

      ‘I know this sounds like one more middle-aged man complaining about his mother, but it’s what I feel. To put it succinctly, Mother is hard to live with: intelligent, sensitive, demanding, insatiable and ruthless.’

      So it’s out. He brings his two thumbnails up and sticks them between his front teeth. Maybe he’s feeling left out because his teeth aren’t separated. I wait. It’s quiet enough so I can hear the clock tick. Jesus, we’ve been consulting for over three hours; we’ll have to sell the house just to pay the psychiatrist bills.

      ‘Dr Delibro, another thing. My parents aren’t rich, neither am I. I’m not sure how much psychiatric help they can afford. I hate to be mercenary about this, but what are your estimates in time and money to do some good? If we get Mom involved in this, you’ve got your life’s work cut out.’

      He leans his chair back, pushes his palms down on the arms, fingers point out, slightly up. He looks at one set of fingers then the other, he reminds me of a pianist before he attacks the keyboard.

      ‘Both your parents will be covered by Medicare, I’m sure. Perhaps we can get the rest from Perpetual or MediCal. Don’t worry about it. If they can’t come up with the twenty percent, we’ll make it some way. I don’t agree with the Freudian idea you need to make it expensive so the treatment will be appreciated. That’s only a bit of Viennese sadomasochistic nonsense. Don’t worry about the money; I’m not going to sop up their life savings. To be honest, it’s one of the reasons I chose gerontology as a specialty. With Medicare I can choose my patients on a need basis, not just on ability to pay. Eighty percent of my fees keeps me fine.’

      We both smile. He couldn’t be franker than that. Dad and Mom are going to get the full upper-middle-class treatment. Coming to see Delibro will be the high point of the week for years; it’ll upstage the ‘soaps’. I’m beginning to think I might actually get home.

      He looks at the clock and stands up. Maybe there are other patients. I stand and we walk out to the waiting room. Dad isn’t there! I almost panic; then I see him in the little alcove with the secretary. He’s sitting at the typewriter. She’s leaning over him. He has his hands on the keys. He looks up when we come over and smiles sheepishly.

      ‘You know, Johnny, СКАЧАТЬ