Extracted - Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 2 of 3

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 2 of 3

 

At nine o’clock in the morning, Doctor Faucet was at his desk, waiting on his first patient.  He was remembering the phone conversation he had last night where he agreed to attend the meeting with the ghost hunters later tonight.  He had looked up some of the names on the list of group members, but that didn’t take long since they all popped up on the same website, listing them as the developers of some new fancy water treatment device.  How had they gone from water treatment to ghosts?  He couldn’t imagine.

His office door opened and the receptionist poked her head in.  “Doctor Faucet?  I think we’ve been invaded.  The FBI and police and…”  With that someone pulled her out of the way and a woman he had never seen entered.  She was immediately followed by a man.  After them came Mr. and Mrs. Marsh.

“I thought I had your son’s appointment listed for ten o’clock, not nine,” he told the two Marsh parents.

The woman who had come in first held up an ID.  “Special Agent Rosenberg,” she said.  “FBI.  And this is Detective Nolan with the Philadelphia police.  Sorry for the intrusion, but we don’t have time to wait.”

“What’s going on?” Faucet asked.

“According to Mrs. Marsh, you diagnosed her son Stephen as having multiple personality disorder.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” he replied, now looking at Mrs. Marsh.

“How sure are you of that diagnosis?”

“Very!” the doctor assured her.

“I need to know how you arrived at that conclusion.”

“There’s nothing else it can be,” the doctor explained.  “He has for some reason manifested a new personality on top of his original one, and so far the new personality is completely suppressing his true identity.”

“What if I told you there’s another person out there.  Someone who was kidnapped at the same time as Stephen, and with all other factors the same as well, except that this person seems to now have Stephen’s personality, and the personality that he is projecting is hers.”

Faucet shook his head.  “Impossible!  There’s something else going on there.  Stephen’s original personality is being suppressed.  Nothing more.  And the same has to be true with the other person you’re talking about.  With a bit of digging, I have no doubt that you’ll find the original personality buried in there, but I doubt you’ll find it until you find the traumatic event that triggered the new personality that is most likely trying to protect the original.”

Rosenberg looked a him for a moment then said, “Doctor Faucet, you’re an idiot!”  She turned to Nolan.  “Come on.  I don’t even want to talk with this guy.”  She led the way out.

Faucet looked to Mr. and Mrs. Marsh.  “Is my original patient still out there?”

“I hope not,” Henry Marsh told him.  “And we’re not here anymore either.  Come on Agatha.  We need to find a better doctor for Stephen.”

 

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As she drove back towards New York, Rosenberg pulled out her phone and called her boss.  “Sir!  I just met briefly with Stephen Marsh’s psychiatrist, and after two minutes I walked out.  He’s firmly convinced that Stephen has a multiple personality disorder, even when I tried to explain that we had someone else out there who has matching symptoms and Stephen’s identity.  The Marsh’s were there at the time and have now dropped him as Stephen’s shrink.  They’re going to look for someone else now.”

“Okay,” her boss said.  “Listen Ellen, I got a number of calls from D.C. last night and this morning.  They decided that before they all panic, they want some of their own experts to look those kids over to see what kind of conclusions they can reach.  I can’t say that I blame them, and to be honest, it sounds like a very good idea.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Ellen told him.  “I’d rather this country didn’t go to war over something one psychiatrist came up with.”

“How long before you’re back?”

“Two hours,” Ellen told him.

“See me when you get here.  We’ll figure out what arrangements we have to make.”

“Right.  See you then,” Ellen replied.  She ended the call.  The government wanted to get more people involved, but in this case, it was to either confirm the situation or possibly, hopefully, come up with a better explanation.  At this point, Ellen really hoped there was something better.  Something a lot more reasonable!

 

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Even though the girl sitting on the bed next to her wasn’t mentally her daughter, Wanda automatically reached out anyway and hugged her.  At least she could still do that much, as if her daughter wasn’t really gone.  No, she was only half gone.  But it was the most important half that was missing.

She had just finished having “the talk” with Nancy.  This was the second time she had been through it with Nancy, but this Nancy was a different Nancy, and it was obvious from the start that this Nancy was far less prepared for it than her real Nancy.  Yes, this Nancy knew some of the basics, but she would have expected her to know a lot more.  The old Nancy certainly had, but then the old Nancy had the advantage of having Emily in the room right across the hall all her life, and the two of them were very close.  Not so close anymore though.  In truth, Wanda couldn’t blame her older daughter at all.  It was what it was.  They were lucky to have this much of Nancy left.

To Wanda’s knowledge, Nancy had only had two legitimate periods so far, and they were still being somewhat erratic in when they occurred.  That would all change with time, most likely soon.  But at least this new Nancy had some idea now as to what to look for and what to do about it when her next period started, which could be anytime now, or another month away.  That was the problem with some girls at the start, there was no real schedule.  Her body would handle it when her body was ready.  Now, this new Nancy needed to be ready, just in case.

She got up from the bed and started for the door, then stopped.  There was something she had been considering ever since that phone call last night.  She stopped and turned back to Nancy.  “Where’s your phone?” she asked.

“Are you going to take it?”

“No.  Just…the next time you think about calling someone, can you let me know.  Please.  At least for now.”

“Yeah.  I can do that,” Nancy replied.

“Good.”  She looked around the room again, but still didn’t see the bright colored cellphone.  “Where did you hide it?”

“In my top drawer.”

“Oh.  Whatever.  I’m just not used to seeing it not on you.  Since you got it, you’ve been practically glued to it ever since.”

Nancy laughed.  “It’s so bright, how can anyone miss it?”

Wanda smiled and walked out.  She would get back to it later.

 

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In his New York office, Congressman Stiller picked up his desk phone and punched the number to reach his secretary.  “I need you to find me a phone number please,” he told her.

“Who for?” she asked.

“The District Attorney for Philadelphia.  I believe his name is Henry Marsh.”

“No problem,” his secretary told him.  “I’ll let you know when he’s on the line.”

“No.  Just get me his number.  I’ll call him myself.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” she agreed.

 

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Agatha Marsh was walking from one room in the house to another, when she heard the front doorbell ring.  She opened the door and got quite a shock.  “Coach Bradley!  What are you doing here?”

“Just checking on Steve,” Bradley replied.  “I was very sorry to hear that he won’t be at football camp this year.  The team was really depending on him.”

“Yeah.  We’re sorry too.”

“Can I see him?  At least see how he’s doing?”

“Um…coach,” Agatha said, searching for some way to explain things.  “Ever since Steve was abducted, he hasn’t exactly been himself.  That’s why we pulled him out of that camp.  And to be honest he very well may not be in school this year either.”

“Not in school?  And he’ll miss the entire season?”

“It’s starting to look like it,” she told him.  “We’re sorry, believe me.  Steve was really looking forward to it.”

The coach was obviously not happy.  Steve was one of his star players.  Can I still see him?  At least say hi?  Let him know I care.”

“Coach,” Agatha said.  “You can see him.  He’s not contagious, but seeing him won’t do you any good.  More than likely, he’s not going to know you at all.”

“What?”

“Since we got him back, Steve has lost every bit of memory of his entire life!  He doesn’t even know us or his own name, let alone any of his friends.  That’s why we’ve been keeping them all away.  We haven’t allowed any of them to see him.”

The coach was shocked.  “Amnesia?”

“Complete,” Agatha told him, now figuring that the amnesia line might be the best thing possible.  How else could they explain things?

Coach Bradley considered that.  “Can I still see him?  Mrs. Marsh, Steve is one of my favorites.  He may not remember me, but at least I can let him know that I care.  That the entire team cares.”

Agatha considered that, then stood back.  “Come in.  Let’s see if we can find him.”

She led the way through the house, checking the obvious places first, but she didn’t see him.  Going out the back door, she saw him sitting and staring at the backyard.  Normally, Steve would be out there doing something sports related, like throwing the basketball at the net.  But now he was just sitting on the brick wall that lined the patio.  “Stephen,” she called, then hurried ahead of Bradley.  She leaned down and whispered into Stephen’s ear.  “You’ve got a visitor.  Coach Bradley, your football coach.  I told him you’ve got amnesia and don’t remember your entire life.  Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied.  “I think so.  It means I can’t remember things.”

“Okay.  Good.  Talk to him.  He cares about you.”

Steve turned around and saw the man who had come out to the patio.  He was an older man, going bald on the top of his head.

“Steve?” Bradley said, approaching the boy now.  “How are you?”

Steve shrugged.  “I’m here.”

The coach noticed a listlessness in Steve that he had never seen before.  Yeah, there was something wrong with him for sure.  “Do you remember me at all?”

Steve shook his head.  “Sorry, but I don’t.”

“I’m Coach Bradley, the high school football coach.  We…you’ve been on my team for the last three years.  This year would have been our fourth together.”

“They tell me I like football.  They say I like it a lot,” Steve replied.  “But I don’t remember anything about it.  In fact, to be honest, I couldn’t care less about it.  It really doesn’t interest me at all.”

That was troubling to the coach.  “What does interest you?”

“Trying to figure my life out!” Steve told him, the frustration in his voice evident.

‘Yeah, I guess that makes a lot of sense.  Steve, I just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking about you.  In fact, the entire team is thinking about you.  We’re all behind you Steve, for whatever you need.  You want something, just say the word.  Okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied.  “Thanks.”  In truth though, he really didn’t care.

“Okay,” Bradley said.  “Just remember.  If you ever need to talk, I’m always available.  Especially for you.  Got that?”

“Yeah.  Sure,” Steve replied.  “Thanks.”

“Okay,” the coach replied.  “Get well soon Steve.”

“Yeah.  I hope so,” Steve told him.

With a nod, Coach Bradley turned and left him.  He was very troubled.  That hadn’t seemed like Steve at all.  Total amnesia.  Yeah, something like that would be the only thing that could account for the way Steve was acting.  He couldn’t imagine not knowing anyone or anything.  He felt even worse for Steve the more he considered it.  A thought struck him as Stephen’s mother escorted him to the front door.  He stopped and turned to her.  “Mrs. Marsh,” he said.  “Maybe it would do him good if some of his friends came to see him.  He might not know them, but maybe they could help stimulate his memory a bit.  If nothing else, maybe they could give him something else to think about.  Distract him from his troubles somewhat.”

The idea struck a chord in Agatha.  “I’ll consider that,” she told him.  “It might be a good idea, but right now, I wouldn’t even know who to suggest that he should see, and…I’m not sure he’s ready for anything like that yet.”

Coach Bradley nodded.  “Of course.  Let me know though if you need anything.”

“I will,” Agatha agreed.  “Thank you for coming.  I’m sure Steve appreciates it.”

She let him out the door and then closed it again.  Would having a friend over help Stephen’s mood?  He was bored.  Very bored, and she understood that.  But in reality, Steve was a twelve year old girl.  Something about having a bunch of high school guys from the football team come over for a party didn’t sound like the best idea at all.  Still, how could she help him?  She didn’t have a clue.

 

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