Brainstorm. Sheldon J.D. Cohen

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СКАЧАТЬ looked away. How could he forget something so important to him, she wondered. Her worry returned.

      “Yeah, right, I’ll get to the plans right away,” he mumbled.

      Her anxiety made her feel tired. She got up and left the room. He resumed watching television. With TV, he could distract himself from problems of any nature. By the time he was ready for bed, she was fast asleep.

      George had stayed up late and managed to complete the plans for the deck.

      The next evening they were engrossed in television when Amanda ran in front of the screen with Megan in pursuit. Megan was screaming, “It’s mine.” Amanda was answering in kind. George leaped out of his chair, grabbed Amanda by the upper arm and said, “Shut up. Give it to her now.”

      The sudden outburst so startled the girl that she burst into tears. Never before had she experienced this tone of voice, or such rough handling from her father. She dropped the toy and ran to her mother who comforted her. George stared for a minute and then his face reflected a realization of what he had done. It was as if he had just awakened from a bad dream. He frowned. He stared at Gail. Then he looked at Amanda and said, “I’m sorry, honey. Daddy’s sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He walked over to hug his daughter. She let him, but she was tense.

      Gail confronted him late that evening. “What about Dr. Crowell and the tests?” she asked.

      At the mention of Dr. Crowell’s name, he exploded, “No!” he shouted. “I feel fine and those tests are a bunch of crap.”

      Gail cupped her hands over her mouth. She thought, what was happening? His personality was changing. Why? He was abrupt, impatient, and restless. There was something serious going on.

      CHAPTER 6

      Monday morning George arrived early for work. On his way downstairs to the basement he rushed by his boss, Andy Simpson, Not until he was halfway down did he hear Andy shouting, “Where are you going?”

      “Downstairs.”

      “For what?”

      “I gotta finish my work.”

      “We finished down there, don’t you remember?” Final inspection was last week.”

      “Gotta frame in the doors,” said George.

      “What? You already did that.”

      “No I didn’t,” he said with one hand on the banister.

      Andy thought that George must have gone mad, and he motioned for him to come up, but George continued down.

      Now Andy was exasperated. “We worked on it together,” he shouted.

      “You’re full of crap.”

      Before Andy could respond, George’s expression changed from anger to bewilderment.

      “All right,” said Andy. “Go take a look.”

      George spun on his heels and took the steps two at a time until he reached the bottom stair. There he froze. All the doorframes were finished. In fact, everything on the lower level was finished. Why could he not recall working on it? He forced himself to remember, but his mind was blank. He paced the floor, feeling more confused then ever. He went back upstairs, where Andy was waiting for him at the top of the landing.

      “Well?”

      No answer.

      “Never mind,” said Andy. “We’ve got work upstairs.”

      George bit his tongue, fighting to hold his temper. The whole thing had been a set up, he thought, a plot to get rid of me. He felt confused and uncertain. So much was at stake. He knew he was in trouble, but somehow he would have to fake it. Andy was ordering him back to work, but why? So he could mess up and give him the excuse to fire him? His only recourse was to continue work, but he could not afford to make any mistakes. His work had to be free from defects. It had to be perfect.

      CHAPTER 7

      He returned home that night moody and short tempered. He paid no attention to his daughters. Gail decided to confront him after the children were asleep. She braced herself. “What happened today?”

      He pursed his lips and glared.

      “Do you hear me? Tell me what’s wrong?”

      He refused to make eye contact. “Nothing.”

      “You can’t kid me.”

      “Get off it,” he snapped.

      She knew it. Things were getting worse. Never before had he spoken to her like this. Could an ulcer cause a personality change? His explosive temper and sudden forgetfulness frightened her. He bore no resemblance to the man she had married and loved.

      The next few days Gail studied her husband’s mood swings. He was up one minute and down the next. He went from happiness to grief, from the dumps to agitation, and he was forgetful. When viewed together they suggested some underlying psychological or medical problem. Several weeks had passed since his appointment with Dr. Crowell.

      Meanwhile, he continued to work, but Andy needed to remind him to finish some projects. Whereas he had been outgoing and collaborative, he now was secretive and quiet.

      Fred Worthey’s deck job was also a work in progress. George hired a second carpenter and a cement contractor to help him. He took measurements, drew up the specifications and drawings, and calculated how much material would be necessary to complete the project. They went right to work as soon as they received the material. This would be his first experience directing a construction project, and he enjoyed his new status as boss. If the three of them worked a full day on Saturdays and their days off, they expected to complete it within two weeks. Fred would act as the team’s unofficial supervisor.

      When the project was nearly half-finished, Fred again praised George for his talent and workmanship.

      “I appreciate that. Thanks, Fred.” Then as he reached down to shake Fred’s hand he experienced a sudden and excruciating back pain that caused him to jump off the ladder.

      “Oh, God.”

      Fred was startled. “What’s wrong?”

      George stood stiff as a board, his left hand covering his flank as he spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m not sure. I must have sprained my back. It just hit me when I reached down to shake your hand.” As he spoke, he could feel the pain growing worse, extending into his abdomen, and threatening to render him helpless. With great care, he eased himself down into a sitting position on the ladder steps. Fred noted his distress and tried to be comforting, but George’s pain turned his face white.

      “I’m always spraining my back,” offered Fred. “Sometimes it just takes a little movement the wrong way. Come in the house and sit for a while. You’ll see how it goes. I’ve got some Tylenol or Motrin if you want it.”

      “Thanks,” he murmured. “That’s not a bad idea. Man, but this hurts. I never had a back sprain like СКАЧАТЬ