Midwinter Mystery - Chapter Thirteen - " Death of a State of Mind"

_{“ Death of a State of Mind ”}

_{“ YEAAAHH !” John screamed out in torment, his half naked body tensed in an reflex action. “ YOUR HANDS ARE FREEZING, MAN !” he exploded, spasmodically shivering from the aftershock. He was laid out on a examination couch in what appeared to be an old doctor's surgery. The couch was pushed closely up and under a murky tall window, framed either side by a pair of long dusty looking curtains, drawn wide open in the half dark room. The only other source of illumination was supplied by a brass and green glass banker's lamp standing on a beaten up roller bureau over subscribed with various bits of paper over on the far side of room.}

_{“ Ahh now, are not cold fingers jus' the sign of a good doctor. As me good father - God rest his soul - used to say “They provide a tonic for the soul, touching the parts dat the deevil 'imself cannot reach,” answered the mature looking gentleman standing over John. He had an amiable disposition about him supported by a well lived-in figure and topped off with a crown of fluffy white hair, which didn't have so much a style about it as more a free roaming attitude.}

_{“ Well in that case then, you're over qualified !" retorted John, "I still don't remember all that much about what happened to me after the accident,"he continued as he grasped a thin white crumpled sheet from the bottom of the bed and dragged it up over himself."The last thing I recall is the car door swinging open - probably due to crashing through that gate - then falling out of the damned motor.After that, things get kind of blurry."}

_{“ I'm not surprised at all,” answered the doctor, “ Ye've a fair few cracks ta the head there. I expect ye're memory is just havin' a rest for a spell – you should try it yer'self sometime,” he paused as he stood over John, hands resting on either side of a stethoscope dangling around his neck, to let the suggestion sink in for a moment. “You say, you just found me wandering around in some field, on my own ?” quizzed John, trying to put the pieces together. “ That would be the truth of the matter. Mary and me saw yer out in the field there,” the doctor pointed a finger out towards the window to indicate a large expanse of open country in the distance, “ while we havin' one of our walks. At first I thought yer were lost or somethin', but then yer went and collapsed right in front of us.”}

_{“ Mary ? Is that your wife ?” asked John.}

_{“ Me dog, man !” the doctor answered sharply. " No, the wife has never taken' ta the walkin' there, she says it disagrees with her constitution.”}

_{“ I see,” said John, gently massaging the back of his neck to ease some of the stiffness and pain out of it. “ Still, I find it hard to believe that you managed to carry me all the way back here on your own.”}

_{“ Ahh, well I can hardly take all the credit for it meself now, for did not your own legs lend a hand there themselves ?” the doctor smiled warmly leaning forward to inspect John's dressing for a final time. “ Huh, d'yer ever stop to tink about the human brain at all,” he murmured still intently studying his handiwork, “ Is it not the most fragile and complex organ in the human body. Responsible for keepin' us all goin' without botherin' ourselves with all the details. And then there's all the thinkin' an' the walkin' and so forth, not too mention the dreamin', not forgettin' those hopes and fears dat we all suffer from. Why life jus' wouldn't be worth living without it, for sure” his lecture concluded he straightened up and relieved a small pair of bifocals from their duty at the end of his nose.}

_{“ Sorry, are you making a point about something ?” John asked finding it hard to follow the physician's line of reasoning to a logical conclusion, due to injury or not.}

_{“ Well, would ya not consider stoppin' all the bashin' about of it, man ? Y'know, I thought you were close to knockin' on the Pearly Gates there for a while. If we hadn't found you when we did, then you might have been talkin' to somebody more 'higher up' than meself, right now,”}

_{“ Really ?” John started, clearly shaken by the revelation. “ I know I blacked out there a couple of times, but I didn't realize I was as bad as all that !” He carefully dismounted from the bed and stumbled over to the rest of his clothes which were thrown across the back of an armless chair. “ Easy lad, why don't you just sit yerself down there for a while, before you fall and risk undoing all me good work,” observed the doctor. “ Y'know what, I'll do the same thin' meself, after all have I not got more weight on me shoulders than me feet know what to do with already.”}

_{John took the doctor's suggestion without resistance and lowered himself gently down onto the seat. It was then that he had afforded himself the opportunity to inspect the rest of his surroundings. The lower walls were half wood panelled in large square sections, while the upper walls were covered in a plain reddish brown wallpaper with a set of double lamped wall lights – not working – one set on either side of the room. Besides the couch, the bureau, and the chair John was sitting on the only other furnishings were a wooden swivel chair, a bookcase with crammed shelves, and a coffee type table. There were two other things about the room that caught his eye, one was the glass case – mounted on the wall – containing a macabre example of taxidermy.A bird of prey, a sparrowhawk as best as John could discern,was suspended in time on an eternal hunt. It's wings fully extended and bearing it's sharp deadly talons for the kill of a fearful looking field mouse. The second observation was a far less dramatic experience as it concerned the olfactory senses rather than the visual. Lingering in the air was the unmistakable trace of an exotic scent, one that he was only too familiar with in his professional capacity.}

_{The doctor reclined in the creaky swivel chair, tilting back in it as far as it would go, he slowly rotated around to face John. Sitting patiently and quietly for a while, keeping an ever watchful - but discreet - eye on his patient's progress and then rubbing his chin in a pensive frame of mind asked, “Tell me, this 'Cathy' woman that yer kept callin' out ta on the way back here, is she ye're wife or somethin' ?” John looked solemnly down at the floor, seemingly fixating his attention to one single spot and spoke as much to himself as to anyone else, “ Yes, she is. Well.. she was..” The question proved harder to answer than he thought – for aren't we are all in some way identified, categorized and remembered by the labels we attain from those dearest to us in life. And is not these that not only define our relationships with one another but establish our existence, our identity, our very souls. A name is but a part of who we are, but it's our designations and personal choices of who wish to share this fleeting journey of ours with that truly define us, and transcends any earthly bond. A domestic animal's stake to the claim of 'pet' is beyond perpetuity – in fact they're anthropomorphic qualities only increase with fondness by their owner/family. To a child -whatever their age - a parent, will forever – and deservedly – always retain their respected titles of Father and Mother. Friends( best of ), those people in our lives who have accepted us foilbles et al, as much as we have them and theirs – there is no expiry date stamped on the honoured position - 'a Friend for life'. And for those few people that cross our lives however briefly, who stimulate, challenge and encourage us to grow as individuals and in doing so enrich our lives for all the better, these role model people will always retain the rank of 'special', when they are remembered.}

_{As the saying goes, 'Till death do us part', and for many and certainly as far as John was concerned this was a point of considerable conjecture. With all this in mind, he gave the reply the due deliberation and respect it deserved, “ She.. er,..passed away a few months ago you see. She was killed in a car accident. I wasn't with her when it happened. I was working – as always,” recounted John, his eyes glistening with sorrow and regret. “ The last time I saw her we were married,” he held up his left hand, displaying a gold band wedding ring on it, which he lightly rolled around using the thumb and forefinger of the other hand before clenching his hand into a fist.“And then we weren't. I didn't even say good-bye to her. Maybe that's why I still feel as if she's my wife in some way – I'm married, married to a memory. I guess that doesn't make much sense, does it ?” John's head hung heavy and slowly sunk into the palm of his hands to help carry it's burden. He hadn't intended to open up so much if at all, perhaps it was the concussion talking out of turn or maybe it was the first time since his wife's death that there was nothing else to hide his true feelings behind.}

_{“ Ah, I'm not sure yer askin' the right man about dat sort of thin'. For have I not seen too often how death takes the sick as mercilessly as the healthy, and the young as freely and as cruelly as the old. No, I can't say dat there's any sense or reason to anything where death is concerned,” replied the doctor thoughtfully. “ But, I'm sorry to hear about ye're loss, it's a great shame, so it is. You know it's sad thin' dat there's still no known cure for grief yet - except for time. ' The great healer' so they say it is, but like medicine it can tak' longer to work it's course on some as it does on others. It all depends on the patient, whether they're ready, or want, to be healed yet. And not even a foine doctor like meself can do anythin' to help dat, yer know. But now listen, I'm sure your good lady wife wouldn't like to see you sufferin' like dis, especially if she knew it was on account of her, would she now ?”}

_{It was a good question, no doubt about it, and the answer was simple – simple but still no less easy for John to accept. “ No, she wouldn't. In fact, she'd probably give me a hard time about it, then give me one of those smiles of hers, the type that made the dimples of her cheeks standout, and tell me in some clever way to move on with my life.” he remembered warmly. Lowering his shoulders he sunk into a well of despair, “ It's just that I can't stop thinking about how she died. Lying there all alone in the middle of the road," he raised his head and looked straight at the doctor, his eyes glistening with remorse."I should've been there for her ! To hold her in my arms, for the last time, to comfort and reassure, To tell her that everything was going to be all right - and not to be afraid ! To tell her that I loved her,” he choked.}

_{“ Here now, laddie, don't go getting' yerself all worked up about things like dat,” counselled the doctor, leaning forward in his chair. “There's plenty of sadness in life to go around as der is. And I've not a heard a case yet, where it's been helped by blamin' yer'self for not doin' anythin' about somethin' dat you didn't know was goin' to happen in the first place. John raised his head a deep quizzical expression drawn across it's brow, “ WHAT ?” he asked curtly.}

_{“ I'm just sayin', fer all the tings in loife yer can change, there are just as many dat yer can't. It's jus' the way it is lad, and ders nothin' any of us can do about it. Now yer told me dat it was an accident a moment ago, well perhaps yer should keep tellin' dat to yerself, more often,” the doctor clarified as he busied himself with cleaning the lenses of his glasses with a handkerchief – more out of habit than necessity. John dropped his head dramatically back into the palm of his hands, as if to escape the truth, “ I know, I know ! I've said the same sort of thing myself a hundred times or more to other people, friends and families of victims. But now they're just empty words to me, meaningless things that are spoken to others to make them feel better and protect their feelings.”}

_{“ Have yer not talked ta anyone at all about this ?” enquired the doctor, a concerned note in his voice. “ Ye're family, surely they must have been some comfort to yer ?”}

_{John drew himself up and slumped back into the chair, “ No, no one ! I'm an only child and my parents died a few years back. As for the rest of my relations they're few and far between these days, and I'm barely on Christmas Card terms with the best of them. And Cathy's family... well, I could hardly bother them with my troubles when they're grieving with their own loss. No, I have to deal with this myself – alone.” John closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, “ If only I could get past thinking about the last time we were together. Mornings are the worst. It was early in the morning and we were in the bedroom. The sun shone brightly through the net curtains, and crossed the room falling over the dressing table where she was sat brushing her hair. I was running late for work – nothing new there – and halfway out the door when Cathy called me back to remind me of some dinner engagement or other that evening. I told her I'd try my best to make it, but I couldn't promise anything – as always. Police work can be very unforgiving when it comes to a social life you know.” John rubbed his tired eyes then ran the hand down over his face until it came to rest over the mouth where it caught an escaping yawn. “ Then my staff car arrived to pick me up so I had to dash. And, that's how we parted. No kisses, No farewells.”}

_{“I see. Dat's a pity to hear, so it is,” the doctor's reply may have appeared somewhat perfunctory - but this was not the case. It was simply that his attention was more distracted by John's overall behaviour. Judging by everything he had seen and heard in this last few minutes he feared that John might be exhibiting the first signs of nervous exhaustion. “ I'll tell yer what, why don't I get us both a drink ? Yer could certainly do with one and me mouth doesn't like to see other people drinking on their own, so it does,” with that he stood up and started towards the door. Turning around before leaving the room he looked back over at John one final time, as if checking that his condition hadn't deteriorated any further in that short time and that he was wasn't in immediate danger of falling flat on his face. “ I'll be just a minute or two, so don't go moving yer'self about too much 'til then, all right !”}

_{The room fell silent, strangely ominously silent. John hadn't noticed it before but there wasn't even a clock in the room to tick away the deafening stillness. Even his own mind felt like it was starting to quieten down in empathy. He sat patiently and obediently in the chair while waiting for the doctor to return, although he probably couldn't have ventured that much further even if he had wanted to. As attacks of lightheadiness started to became more frequent and prolonged. John forced his eyes wider open in response to their closing demands and tried to shake out the tiredness from his system but this only seemed to aggravate the condition.}

_{He started to gradually subside in the chair, the flat ground beckoning him towards it, then without warning, “ You really should be more careful in future, darling,” came a disembodied voice from somewhere behind him. John nearly fell off his seat trying to catch up with his heart jumping out his chest. “ I mean, you haven't exactly got a thick head there you know, a thick skin perhaps – when it suits you. And as for your feet, well they're hardly up to regulation issue, flatly speaking that is, are they ?” Cathy leaned over her husband's shoulder until there was only a hair's breadth between their two faces, “Actually, the more I think about it, I'm not entirely sure if you're really cut out for this line of work,” she whispered wickedly into his ear, her eyes betraying her gently teasing. “ Still, I suppose everything must be relatively serviceable, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten away with it for all this time, would you ?” she smirked.}

_{“ Uughh, please my head hurts enough as it is,” mumbled John from somewhere under his head which was currently threatening to bury itself completely in his chest. He managed to turn his head around enough to glance at her but there was something different about her appearance this time, she seemed more cloudy in substance – neither transparent nor clear. She was also being uncharacteristically quiet at the moment as if disturbed by some deep thought, “ Don't you think you'd be better off sitting in a different chair, like one with arms for instance !” she finally spoke, following up her point with a similar action of the finger aimed at the swivel chair. John grunted a term of agreement and stumbled/fell his way across the room towards it. He tried to carefully lower himself down into the seat with the use of the chair's arms, like a parallel bars gymnast, but was still too weak to support his own weight and ended up dropping the last few inches, slapping hard down on his pride. This caused the chair to tip back sharply sending his legs flying up in the air. “ There, you see ! You're already starting to look more animated !” said Cathy sauntering over to him. John flung his feet back to the floor resulting in his upper torso being catapulted up and forward, almost out of the chair, “ Aargh, is this supposed to be your idea of helping me....then DON'T !” he groaned from a bent doubled position. “ Excuse me ?” Cathy responded as she looked at him challengingly then placing her hands on her hips she held her head high in the air to complete a defiant pose. “ Don't you go blaming me, Mr. Det.Inspector Almighty ! All I did was make a perfectly simply suggestion - for your own benefit I hasten to add,” she remarked indignantly.” How was I to know that you'd suddenly inflict yourself with an uncoordinated attack !” she remarked indignantly, alluding to his over zealous leg reactions. Sighing to dispel her annoyance, Cathy changed the subject to something a little less confrontational,“ So, while we're on the subject of 'help', what's the name of your new little helper, then ?”}

_{“ Huh, oh..well, it's..er,” John stopped in his tracks, as a feeling of doubt started to take root that somewhere in between his lapses of consciousness, the personal and physical examinations and general small talk that certain basic formalities may have gone slightly awry – in particular general introductions and the exchanging of names.}

_{“ I DON'T BELIEVE IT ! You don't know it, do you ?” Cathy laughed at the realization. “Lord, things must be bad if you're letting yourself be treated by someone you're not even on LAST name terms with.” She moved in closer, gazing at him with the warm tenderness that he had missed so much about her. For a brief moment he thought she was extending a hand up to his head as if to caress and soothe it, the way she used to, but a change of mind must have taken place for she suddenly lowered it to point instead at a blank looking form laying atop a mess of other papers on the bureau next to him. “ Wait a moment, isn't that a prescription form there ?” John glanced down towards it, “Yes, I think so. What of it ?” he asked not able to make the necessary connection between the two subjects. “ You really must pay more attention, darling. The doctor's name, surgery address and such forth should be printed on the bottom of it,” she leaned over to study it more intently. “ Ah, there you are – Doctor Miller. M.D, Nightshade Cottage, Mistry, etc, etc and so on. Well that's one mystery solved, I say this detective work really is quite easy when you get into it, isn't it ?” John had drawn a deep breath to give his open and frank answer to this red flag question but was prevented from venting his opinion by the return of his host.}

_{The doctor pushed the door wide open with his shoulder, his hands preoccupied with the responsibility of conveying two bowl glasses filled with equal but generous doses of a dark brown liquid. “ Ah, Dr Miller, I presume,” John welcomed the doctor's arrival in equally good spirits. “ WHAT ?” snapped the doctor, unsure of what had just been said. “ Oh, never mind,” dismissed John as he now felt somewhat foolish about making light of his Samaritan's name. “ Ah, good, I see yer've made yer'self comfortable there,” remarked the doctor as he made his way gingerly over to him. “ Here get some of dis down yer, it might just help yer to tink a little less about a lot of the things on yer mind,” he offered one of the glasses up to John. “ Now, I'm not advocatin' this as a long term solution, you understand,” this piece of advice was followed by a course of self medication, liberally - twice. “ I know, alcohol isn't the answer to anything. It just numbs the feeling, that's all,” acknowledged John swilling his drink around in the glass before throwing it back in one. “ Well, there is dat, but I was talkin' about how hard it is to get yer hands on a drop of the good stuff around here.” The physician finished off his drink, “ Ah, that's better, so it is,” he claimed, smacking his lips in appreciation. Then relieving John of his glass he took the opportunity of casting a critical eye over him once more. “ Yer know I was wondering if you wouldn't mind stayin' here with me and the wife this evening. I mean what with yer bein' still too weak to travel, and the night almost upon us,” he voiced his concern as he looked back toward the window and the dying sunlight.}

_{“ You sound as if you're afraid of the dark or something,” replied John as he twisted around in the chair trying to catch sight of his wife, but she had disappeared into the night like the sun. His head started to feel woozy, which was hardly surprising as swivel chairs, head traumas and alcohol invariable result in an unsteady mind. “ Ah, away with yer, man. I'm not afraid of the dark. It's what's out there lurkin' in it that scares me, as it does a lot of people in these parts. And if yer had any sense then... ” the doctor stopped himself short, there was no point continuing any further as he noticed his house guest's limp body now slumped in the chair, his arms dangling lifelessly down on either side of him. He checked John's pulse to ensure there wasn't any irregularity to it,“Ah, the old hard stuff never fails, to be sure. Sleep long and hard there lad, and don't worry, the darkness will be there, waiting fer you, another day – it always does,” he said to himself and patted John reassuringly on the shoulder. “ Now how the deevil am I going to get you back onto dat couch by meself ?” he pondered.} 

_{© Michael Burford, 2018}