Dr. Benson

We sit in on a frustrated Ian's therapy session with Dr. Benson, who thinks Ian's obsession with Gabe is unhealthy.

"Well, I had to kill a pregnant skunk that had somehow found her way into some redneck's house. They didn't know where in the house it was, they just smelled it. They said they didn't have a dog, so it had to be in the house. And I thought, oh, it's a good thing I found her when I did; she looked about ready to burst!

"But this f*****g hillbilly refuses to pay me if I kill her because his vegan wife loves animals, and he didn't want to upset her. I swear to God, a f*****g vegan redneck! Can you believe that? So I have to go out to my truck and get my cage live-trap. But by the time I get in there, the thing is already in labor! And skunks get mean if you try to touch their babies. So, in my spray-resistant suit, I slowly lower it onto the skunk. And every one of those skunks sprayed, and the mom tried to scratch me, but of course, I was wearing my protective suit.

"So this lady, the vegan one, comes frolicking in and sees the bloody skunk babies, and the skunk is still birthing the third one, and she says 'They're so gosh-darned cute! Can we keep one?' And her husband says 'Sure honey!' So I'm like 'That's not a good idea.' And he gets right in my face and says 'If my Lilly wants a skunklet, you'll give her a skunklet!'

So I said, 'Alright man, whatever.' And I give her the skunk. Of course, the mother was not too happy about that. I tried to tell them why that's a horrible idea but I was afraid this guy was gonna hit me! I mean he was huge! So I gave her the damned kit, or skunklet, as they called it, and she's holding it right up to her face and it sprays her in the eyes.

"Then they both get mad at me, calling me an idiot and telling me I should 'debilitate his tail', because everyone knows that skunks spray out of their tails! So I told him I couldn't do that without killing the kit and he got mad an refused to pay because his house still smelled like skunk. And he says 'My wife is fixin to die with that poison in her eyes from that goddamned rat you gave her and you think I'm gonna pay you?'

"So I had to call my boss and ask him what to do. He had to come all the way out, take the skunks, including the kit, out of the house and he finally forked over the money. And this took all f*****g day- I got up at seven and was at that psycho's house from nine in the morning until almost three PM. And got no sleep at all last night, so that makes it even worse. So yeah, that was my day."

"Well, I can see how that could be frustrating," Dr. Benson said, writing something in her notebook. "But it sounds like you handled the situation very well. You were very reasonable about the whole thing."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't exactly yell at that huge beast-man, now could I?"

"I meant that as a good thing, Ian."

I rolled my eyes. Dr. Benson was the only person who ever saw me angry. I never let myself lose my temper with clients or family or even coworkers. Sure, we'd have an occasional rant about our day when something like that happens, but I'm always polite with the person I'm talking to, except her. I figure I'm paying her here so I can be as real and straightforward as I want. I had just switched from Dr. Frobisher, who was much more down-to-earth and less condescending. Benson just got on my nerves.

"So Ian," she said. "How come you didn't get any sleep last night?"

"I was trying to work something out."

"What we're you trying to work out?"

"I'd just gotten back from Boston...It's a long story."

"Well, we have forty-five minutes," she said, looking at her watch. "Why don't you try and explain."

I sighed.

"Let's start from the beginning, shall we? Why were you in Boston?"

"Well, remember all that stuff I told you about?"

"Mm, well you tell me a lot of things. What stuff?"

"I wasn't finished."

"Okay." She put her hands up as if telling me not to shoot.

"Those letters and pictures that were in my house?"

"Mm, yes, I remember. What about them?"

"Well a woman called who knew the previous owner of the house. She was trying to reach him. So I met her out in Boston-"

"How did you get to Boston? And when did you leave?"

"I left Thursday morning and got there on Friday. I drove."

"How long of a drive is that?"

"Twenty-nine hours." Her eyebrows shot up and she wrote something down.

"Okay," she said, in a tone that sounded very judgmental. "And you drove that far to talk about a man you don't even know?"

"Yes."

"Can you explain your motives to me?"

"I was curious! It was driving me crazy!"

"Well it's understandable to be curious, but to drive almost thirty hours to talk to a woman you've never met about a man you know next to nothing about was probably not appropriate."

"I really don't care. I wanted to go, so I went."

"Yes, but that sounds like it was a very compulsive decision."

"So?" I said, irritated.

"Okay, so what did this woman say?"

"Well it turns out she was Gabe's step-daughter."

"And Gabe is the previous owner of your house?"

"Yes. But here's the weird thing. Gabe's childhood friend Tommy said that Gabe and his wife, Diana's mother, were married when they were under twenty years old."

"Okay, hold on. Did this woman Diana introduce you to Tommy?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"What do you mean?"

"Well she told me where to find Gabe's niece and her children, and she led me to another childhood friend of his, Frank. Frank led me to Tommy."

"Ian, I don't think you're getting this. An obsession like this is very unhealthy, especially if you're losing sleep over it. Haven't you thought that you might be imposing on these people's lives? None of the people directly invited you, did they?"

"Ugh, it doesn't matter! You don't even know the important part yet!"

She frowned, and wrote something down, then spoke to me like I was a toddler throwing a fit. "Okay. What is the important part then, Ian?"

"Well I showed Frank that letter, and he-"

"Hold on. Who's Frank?" I impatiently explained who everyone I talked to was and Dr. Benson made some kind of chart with their names and how they were connected. "Okay. I'm sorry, go ahead now."

"I showed Frank, and he said he had no idea what the code meant, which was a lie."

"How do you know he was lying?"

"I'm getting to that! Then I showed it to Tommy, and he said it was a code that he and Gabe used when they were in this club as kids. Now get this- Frank was in that club too. He definitely would have known the code."

"Well maybe he forgot. I mean, how long ago were they in this club? Were they children?"

"Yes, but-"

"And they're what, my age now?"

"No, older than you," I said.

"Older than me? How much older?" Dr. Benson was in her fifties or early sixties at the most.

"They were in their eighties or late seventies."

"Oh, wow. Then it makes sense that they wouldn't remember everything from when they were growing up, Ian."

"But they were leaving out specific details. Like Frank talked about growing up with Gabe and living across the street from Tommy, and that Gabe stole and married his girlfriend, but he acted like he'd never even heard of the code before."

"Well maybe those things stuck with him because they had a bigger effect on him at the time. And who he lived near and knew is very vague."

"But he was still sane, he was teaching PE at a middle school!"

"He's eighty and he teaches PE?"

"Yeah. Anyway, even if he's not lying, Tommy and Jack Be Nimble definitely were. Tommy said he didn't know what 'infested' was code for, but he was obviously bothered by it and made me give him Frank's number so he could call and tell him about it."

"Did he tell you that's why he was calling?"

"Well no, but-"

"Then how do you know that's why?"

"Ugh, would you please just listen and let me finish?"

"I'm sorry," she said, raising her hands again. "Go ahead."

"So then I meet Jack Be Nimble." She frowned when I said this and wrote something down, but I ignored her. "He's an old guy, smokes so much that his teeth are gone and he can't get through a sentence without coughing. He literally had a collection of pipes and ashtrays! So anyway, he lied to his overprotective daughter and said he knew me, then made her leave so we could talk. He was obviously annoyed at her and not me. I wasn't intruding or being a burden on him. If anything he probably enjoyed it; I doubt he has long conversations with friends a lot." Dr. Benson opened her mouth to say something, then decided to write it down instead, probably because she didn't want to further annoy me.

"So this guy tells me that the club they were in was called the Maniacal Song. It said that in the letter I showed everyone but nobody else told me what it meant. Then he said a lot of other words were code names of all the club members. He's listing them off and he starts to mention a sixth club member whose code name is Insect, then he intentionally started coughing." Her eyebrows shot up again and she wrote something in her notebook, then flipped the page. "So I ask who Insect is, and he said it's code for stupid and he starts making all this stuff up that is very obviously bullshit and says there are only five club members. So I tell him that Frank said there were six and he starts coughing on purpose again!"

"I thought Frank didn't mention the club," she said, frowning.

"He didn't. But that's not the point. The thing you should be worried about is his reaction! And furthermore, I found two matching gold chains and one had a boy jump-roping as a charm and the other had an ant!"

"What do you mean you found it?"

"I was looking through one of his cabinets when I went to the bathroom. But get this- Jack's code name was Double-Dutch!"

"Okay...?" She shook her head like she didn't get it.

"And he had one of an ant! A jumprope for Double-Dutch and an ant for insect!"

"Ian..." she started, looking concerned. I ignored her.

"Then I found all these pictures in his picture album of five club members, but obviously someone had to take the pictures!" Her eyebrows went up even higher. I didn't know that was possible. "And one of the pictures had only four people because I think Tommy was taking that picture, but there was a hand touching Eleanor's hand. It was way too big and hairy and rough to be Tommy's. But the rest of his body was cut out of the picture! So I left and went home, and then I looked at Gabe's pictures with the heads cut out and that big guy with hairy hands was in all of them! And then I found the biggest evidence of all- another matching gold chain with an anchor on it!" If her eyebrows had moved up any farther they would have been floating above her face. "Gabe's code name was Pirate! They had one chain for every club member, and Jack had one of an insect! It's proof! You can't argue with the fact-"

"Ian, I'm going to stop you right there. You're missing the most important sign in this situation."

"Really? What?"

"Your obsession with this club has gotten out of control. I mean, you talk about these people like you know them!"

"I do know them!"

"You're only proving my point. You just met these people and you call them Tommy and Jack Be Nimble and talk about them like they're your best friends and you know whether or not they're telling the truth, like you were in this club and you know all about it."

"Well, you'd know if you had been there! You would react the same way I did-"

"No I wouldn't! I don't know how you're not seeing this. I would not have driven thirty hours to meet a person I'd only previously spoken to on the phone, I would not have invited myself to these people's homes and demand an explanation of some note that was written by somebody they probably haven't talked to in decades, I would not have assumed that a man who probably had lung cancer was lying or hiding something because of the timing of his coughs, I would not have lied about what the other men had told me, and I certainly would not have snooped through his pictures and belongings. Your behavior is incredibly unreasonable and inappropriate and, frankly, absurd. It's very concerning."

"Whatever."

"This is serious Ian. It's important that we talk about this. It's not healthy."

"Fine."

"Why are you so determined to solve this so-called mystery?"

"I don't know."

"What is it about these people's lives that fascinates you? You have spent more time this past week thinking about other people's lives than your own!"

"My life isn't that interesting."

"What makes you say that?"

"I kill bugs and rodents, talk to you once a week, and occasionally go out to eat or to a bar with my coworkers."

"I find it very interesting that you refer to them as your coworkers."

"Why? I work with them. What am I supposed to call them?"

"Friends?"

"Okay, occasionally go out to eat with my friends."

"These people's lives are no more interesting or important than yours. The man you're chasing is a kid. Those people you talked to were talking about their childhood. Everyone's lives seem more interesting as a child."

"Yes, but they're still keeping secrets! Like sixty years later!"

"Listen. You have enough to worry about with your job. You should try to get to know your coworkers better so that next time you call them friends, you mean it. Maybe go out with a girl. By focusing all of your attention on someone else's life, you're neglecting your own. You are essentially searching for things to worry about. You're so wrapped up in this supposed secret that you are losing sleep over it. It's affecting you and your wellbeing."

"Okay, so what are you saying?"

"I'm saying you should forget about Gabe. Just forget him. It's natural to be curious, but it's extremely unhealthy for you to keep pursuing this. You know these people more intimately than you know the people in your own life. I know this is hard to understand because you can't see what you're doing."

"What can't I see?"

"That you are living vicariously through Gabe."

"How am I?"

"You are creating false memories, meaning people tell you things and you remember them as if you were there. You simulate real relationships by learning about the people in Gabe's life. Your relentless sleuthing has revealed more about you than about Gabe or any of the people in his life."

I remained speechless, frustrated beyond words. Nothing I said to Dr. Benson would make her understand that this wasn't about me. I was not the problem. She thought she understood my feelings and motives more than I did. I thought that was very arrogant of her. No matter what I said, I was always wrong. She started writing down an appointment for next week. I took it without a word and stood to leave.

"Ian?" she said. I stopped in front of the door, but didn't turn to meet her. "Don't ever go to Boston for that reason again. Drop it, okay? If you can't immediately stop thinking about it, fine. But don't go back there." I opened the door and walked out of the office without another word. I heard her exhale loudly as I left the building. That was my last session with Dr. Benson.