pother
\ POTH-er \ , noun;
1. A heated discussion, debate, or argument; fuss; to-do.
2. Commotion; uproar.
3. A choking or suffocating cloud, as of smoke or dust.
1. To worry; bother.
***************************
The man in question was grinning widely. The kind of near crazed smile that creates deep lines at the corners of the mouth. His eyes were open equally wide. It was impossible to tell what the emotions behind them were though. The group of five individuals at the long table in front of the lone man each saw something different in them. To some it was hope, to others, anger. Mr. Adams say nothing but the gaze of a man plagued by insanity.
“I’m
afraid I must disagree.” Said Mr. Jastis. “I have personally worked
with this patient, and I personally deem him able to re-enter society.”
“Then
you must not be as good a psychologist as all those diplomas you so
proudly display say you are.” Said Mr. Adams “Ignoring the obvious,”
He again indicated the patient’s unusual expression, “when I look over
this man’s files, which include his latest psychological evaluation, I
see nothing that shows that he is nothing other than a danger to himself
and others.”
“Then we must be looking at two very different reports sir. I can see
it clearly written, here on page two of the evaluation report, and I
quote: ‘Patient no longer displays tendencies towards violent
behaviors. It has been many weeks since he even mentioned any desire to
harm another.’” Mr. Jastis looked up from reading the report, a smug
grin on his pudgy, round face.“Indeed, it does say that.” Mr. Adams replied, his eyes downward, scanning through the pages. “However, on the very next page it goes on to say: ‘Although patient no longer displayed outwardly violent behavior, by using careful observation, it has been noticed that the patient has also learned how to hide these tendencies. When the patient believes he is not alone, or with only other patients, he seems to revert back to violent behaviors.’ Now, I ask you, does that really sound like a man that’s cured?” He finally looked up, adjusting the slim black glasses on his equally slender nose.
“You
forgot to say the last part of that sentence.” Mr. Jastis pointed at
the line in question, “It says that these so called violent tendencies,
although still present, are much less intense than before. And
gentlemen, let us not forget that this evaluation did take place last
week. Since then, I’ve had time to work with him, and those violent
outbursts have since disappeared completely.”
“I hardly think one week is enough to get rid of such strong violent thoughts, no matter how good you are.”
“Normally
yes. However,” Mr. Jastis got out of his chair, and moved his sizable
body to the patient. He wrapped fingers that would be called spindly
had they not been so covered with fat, around the patient’s shoulder.
“I have been observing this man, and have yet to see him acting in any
way to hurt another human being.” The patient seemed to try his best to
widen his smile, as if to emphasize the point his psychologist just
made. Doing this just seems to have the opposite effect on everyone
else present. Mr. Jasits didn’t seem to notice. “He might not look
like a well adjusted individual,” he glared at Mr. Adams, “But don’t we
always say it’s not what’s on the surface that counts? Inside, this
man is just as sane as any of us. I promise, with my reputation as a
doctor of the mind, that we can release this man with no danger to
anyone.”
Nobody spoke for a second.
“Well
then, now looking back at facts that we can see, rather than fanciful
words and ideas,” Mr. Adams said, still not quite able to believe what
he had just heard, “Looking at so much evidence to the contrary, not to
mention his clearly insane gaze, we can’t possibly release him. I mean,
look at what he did. Ten people dead, with who knows how many more
seriously injured. I don’t think there should be any circumstances in
which we should let him go, no matter how ‘cured’ you say he is.”
The two men glared at each other, both forming their next statements in
their mind, ready to drive the nails into each others coffins. The
silence was disturbed by the old man sitting in the center seat of the
table. All eyes turned to him.“Thank you both for that. But, I think it’s time we wrapped this up. Let’s hear a few words from the patient, then put it to vote.” Everyone but Mr. Adams and Mr. Jasitis seemed to readily agree with this. “Now then, what do you have to say about all this sir?” He said, nodding towards the patient.
The man looked around a bit, his wide grin finally shrinking back to a more reasonable level.
“Yes, yes, I think I’m ok. I haven’t wanted to hurt someone for the longest time.” He said, putting special emphasis on longest. He then started to laugh hoarsely at some unseen joke. “I promise I won’t do anything bad.” He said, again putting emphasis on one word, this time anything.
“Well then,” said the senior board member, “Shall we vote?”
*******
Not sure how I did this one. Do you think I may have ended it too soon? let me know what you think, ok?
The setting made me think of when Casanova Frankenstein is being evaluated in Mystery Men. :D
ReplyDeleteAlso, perhaps try proof reading your stories before posting them. I think they're good and I check back every week to read the next one, but the little typos here and there can become distracting and detract from the story.