Extracted - Chapter 8 - Absolutely Bonking Freaking

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 8 - Absolutely Bonking Freaking

 

In her home outside of Philadelphia, Judith poured herself another drink while she listened to the discussion going on between the members of their special soul extraction group.  Neither she nor Ben had dared tell anyone else what they had done.  In fact, from everything either of them had been able to tell, nothing had been reported as being wrong with the kids they had kidnapped and then returned, so they were both guessing that both kids were now completely normal, and the soul switching had no effect on them at all.  At least, as far as they could tell.  Finding any information on either child had proven nearly impossible.

She took her refreshed drink and carried it back to her seat as the discussion between the five remaining members moved onto one of the more immediate questions; should they bring in some kind of doctor to help them if they decide to go ahead and experiment again.  But what kind of doctor would they dare even tell what they wanted to do?  No matter how any of them looked at it, what they discussed doing would most likely be a criminal act, something they were all loath to do.  But the problem for all of them was that the scientific research was simply too tantalizing to ignore.

As they discussed the subject, one of their members held his drink up and leaned forward in his seat.  “We all know the implications of what we’re talking about,” he said, grabbing everyone’s attention.  “And I for one have absolutely no doubt at all that if we ever really do something like we’re discussing, then we need some kind of expert with medical training, or psychological training, which I personally think is even better.  Because of that, I’ve been looking at psychiatrists who I think might be…let’s just say, not so judgmental about our discussions.”

“And?” Ben asked.

“And I came across a somewhat noted psychiatrist, right here in Philadelphia, that I think we should seriously look into.”

“Why this one?” one of the other members asked.

“Because for a psychiatrist, he has a somewhat unusual hobby.”

“A hobby that’s unusual?” Judith asked.  “What kind of hobby?”

“He hunts ghosts.”

There were chuckles all around the room.

“Ghosts!” one of them exclaimed.  “Really?  And he’s a psychiatrist?”

“Yes!” the first man replied.  From what I read, he really does it for fun and…it seems he’s been trying to actually study them.”

“Isn’t that what most ghost hunters do?” someone asked.

“I would imagine.  Yes,” the man replied.  “But this one has even published a scientific paper on, of all things, the psychology of ghosts.

There were a few chuckles around the room, but Judith could see that mostly everyone was seriously considering what they had just been told.  She made a quick decision.  “As much as I hate to say it,” she said.  “Maybe we should talk to him, if for no other reason than to discuss some of the…theoretical aspects of our work.”

Everyone looked around at each other.

“Maybe it might be a good idea,” one of them agreed.

“Especially if we confine our initial meeting with him to, as you said, the theoretical aspects of our interest,” Ben agreed.

“What’s his name?” Judith asked.

“Doctor Christopher Faucet,” the man told them.  “And as I said, as far as I can tell, he’s a well-established and noted psychiatrist.”

 

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Agatha walked up the stairs to let “Stephen” know that dinner would be ready soon.  She never went into his room.  His room was the biggest blight on the earth, and she refused to pick it up for him.  He was going to be a senior this year…or he was supposed to be.  She wasn’t sure what was going to happen now.  But either way, he was more than old enough to pick up his own room.  It was such a disaster area she didn’t think it would ever look decent again.

When she got to the room however, she simply stood in the doorway and stared in disbelief.  Not only was the room picked up, but the bed was neatly made.  Her son never made his bed!  With the window wide open, the room smelled better than usual too.  Walking inside, she found Steve staring through the door that led into his bathroom.

“Your room looks…amazing!” she told her son, who it seemed wasn’t her son.

Nancy looked back around the room.  “I didn’t know what to do with anything.  I just stuck all the dirty clothes in that pile over in the corner, and the stupid weight things that were all over the place I tried to put on the racks over there.  It was weird.  I didn’t think I was going to be able to lift some of them, but I had no problem at all.”

“Hm!” Agatha grunted.  “Have you looked in the mirror?  Have you seen the muscles you have?  You lift those weights a thousand times a day.”

Nancy looked around the room.  “The only mirror I see in here is the one over the dresser.  It’s not like the big mirror I have at home.”

It was another reminder to Agatha that she didn’t know what she was dealing with here.  “You have a big mirror at home.  Full length?”

Nancy nodded.  “How else can you see the outfits you put together?”

“You…Steve…was never very interested in his clothes, other than his uniforms.  And he didn’t put those on until he got to whatever school he was playing at.”

“I don’t know anything about football,” Nancy told her.  “I don’t even like football.  It’s just stupid!”

“Don’t tell Steve…or your father.”

Nancy wanted to tell her that the man downstairs wasn’t her father, but she held her tongue.

“You made your bed,” Agatha noted.  “I haven’t seen that bed made up that nicely in years.”

Nancy shrugged.  “I always make my bed.  My mother makes us.”

“Us?” Agatha asked.

“Emily and me.  My sister.”

Agatha nodded, once again reminded that this was sounding more and more like someone else.  Not her child.

“I really don’t know what to do with most of the stuff in here,” Nancy told the woman that was supposed to be her mother.  “There’s so much stuff in the closet that I don’t even recognize, and all the clothes in the closet and the drawers are all jumbled together.  They’re not neat at all.  And all the stuff on the desk…I have no clue what any of it is.  I had a laptop kind of like the one there, but…I don’t recognize anything he has on it.”

Agatha thought of something.  “Any pictures that maybe might jog your memory?”

“Not that I saw,” Nancy told her.  “I didn’t bother looking much though.  I found a cellphone over there, but I couldn’t get into it.  It has to have some kind of pin number or something.  My phone at home doesn’t need that.  When you came in, I was trying to figure out what to do about the bathroom.  Sorry for saying this, but it’s…disgusting!”

“I’m sure,” Agatha told her as she looked around the room again.  “Tell you what, don’t touch the bathroom, okay?  I’ll send the maid up here to take care of it first thing in the morning.”

“You have a maid too?” Nancy asked hopefully.

“Do you?” Agatha asked.

“She just comes in during the day a couple of times a week,” Nancy explained.

“Ours too,” Agatha told her.  “And I don’t have her clean your room.  That’s your…I mean Steve’s responsibility!  I guess, your responsibility now too.  Except for the bathroom tomorrow.”

“No problem,” Nancy told her.

“I just came up to tell you that dinner will be ready soon.”  She looked over at the open window, and please remember to close the window before you come down.  It might rain tonight.”

“Yeah.  No problem,” Nancy replied.  “It just still smells in here.”

“I’ll give you a can of air freshener right after dinner.  And I’ll show you where the laundry chute is for your clothes too.”  She looked around and shook her head.  “This room hasn’t been this clean in a very long time.  Dinner soon.  Wash up.”

“I will,” Nancy promised.

 

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Doctor Isabella Montcliff stared at her computer screen in disbelief.  How weird!  How absolutely bonking freaking weird!  Philadelphia really did have a District Attorney named Henry Marsh, and according to the picture of his family that she found, he really did have a son named Stephen who was in High School.  The picture was probably a few years old though, but still the kid looked to be fairly big.  But none of that was the weird part.  The weird fact was the recent news story that she found before she found anything else out about Henry or Stephen Marsh.  Stephen had been kidnapped recently at the same time that Nancy had.  Not only that, but Stephen had been returned, unconscious, the same day that Nancy had been returned.  Both of them had been found outside of restaurants.

There were simply too many matching facts that couldn’t be dismissed as a coincidence.  Were both kids kidnapped by the same people at the same time?  And if so, what had happened while they were gone?  Nancy, it seemed, had no memory of what she went through, but then she had no memory of her actual self either.  She acted like she had someone else’s memory instead…memory that belonged to this boy, Stephen Marsh.

What did the boy remember about the time he had been kidnapped?  Was there any way she could find out?  Right now, it didn’t sound likely.  Not even counting the extra security restrictions that were placed on her because of the congressman, as a doctor and a psychiatrist, she would never divulge anything about one of her patients to anyone else, for any reason at all…other than a court order.  Something told her that if Stephen Marsh had a therapist too, that therapist wouldn’t divulge anything either.

So what was she supposed to do?  The first thing that came to mind was to talk to Nancy’s parents, or at least her mother.  She had two appointments set up for the day after tomorrow, one to meet with the mother, then another session with Nancy right after that.  But that was the day after tomorrow.  Should she contact them sooner?  She had to strongly consider that.  There was just too much here for it to be a coincidence, and she had barely started searching.

Had someone else already started looking into this?  It was important for her to know.  It was important for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was Nancy herself.

How could she find out?  Once again, because Michael Stiller was a congressman, she could only think of asking Nancy’s parents, and most likely it would only be her mother that she would have access too.  She made a decision right then and there to call the family tomorrow and try to talk to at least her mother…immediately!

Somebody had to know!  If they didn’t know already.  And she hoped to high heaven that they did.