Blood Loss

68

Ren stood at the sink in the Safe Streets ladies room running cold water over her hand. Her knuckles were flaming. Her nose was red from the cold, her eyes were streaming. Cliff had driven Colin to the hospital. The official story was that he slipped on the ice. The unofficial story was what Ren was now working on as the water numbed her hand, and the pain of the cold traveled up her arm. Gary was waiting for this story. For this work of fiction.

Gary hammered on the door. Ren jumped and hit her hand on the faucet.

‘Ren, get out here. Don’t pull the ladies room bullshit. I’m coming in.’

‘No,’ said Ren. ‘Don’t. I’ll be right there.’

She heard him walk away. Huge angry strides.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She walked down the hallway. Her head felt vaporous. And so did her story.

Which shade of asshole can I paint Colin Grabien that Gary will buy? What could Colin have said to make me snap? What could be worse than the shit Gary has already heard Colin say to me that hasn’t made me snap? Ren kept walking. I can’t do the not-telling-of-the-truth. But I have no proof. And Gary is the man who always needs proof. Watertight, black and white proof. That I can’t provide unless I admit sneaking into an old box of personnel files in the creepy haunted basement of Safe Streets.

Ren flexed the fingers of her red right hand.

Gary Dettling sat at his desk, staring at the door. He continued to stare at the door after Ren had sat down in front of him.

Then he fixed his eyes on her. ‘Colin Grabien has offered his resignation.’

What. The. Fuck?

‘Ren, I’m not going to dress this up for you: you are manic. You have been manic for the past month at least.’

There are two coffee stains on this carpet. I hope I’m not responsible for them. I bring coffee in here a lot …

‘Ren!’ said Gary. ‘This can’t go on. You are going to have to go back on medication-’

‘What?’ said Ren.

‘You heard me,’ said Gary.

‘No,’ said Ren, ‘I don’t think I did. You’re telling me, after everything this case brought up-’

‘Ren, you’ve been on mood stabilizers before and they work for you. I’m not asking you to take a drug that hasn’t been trialed or is making people psychotic. I’m asking you to take a drug that has worked for you in the past, and that hasn’t caused you any side effects.’

‘But-’

‘What’s your solution?’ said Gary. ‘What do you think you should do? What do you think I should do?’

‘I’ll go and see Dr Lone.’

‘Ren! That’s a given. And on its own, talking hasn’t worked for you, because you either stonewall these psychiatrists or sidestep them. Therapy works if you talk, it won’t if you don’t. But before you even begin to start doing that, you need medication to get you back on an even keel. I could list all the things you’ve done, and all the things that have happened to you, but you know what they are. You scared the crap out of me. What happened with Cameron Temple was …’ He took in a breath. ‘Ren, I don’t ever want to get a phone call like that again.’

Do not cry. Do not cry.

‘Do you get that I get sucked into your bullshit?’ said Gary. ‘It is like I am on that rollercoaster with you, Ren, and believe me, I cannot afford to take that ride. I cannot keep up. No man could. Even you can’t. It has to end here.’

Do not cry. Do not cry.

‘Now, get out of my office,’ said Gary.

Ren stood up. Just ‘get out of my office’? Or ‘get out of the building’ or ‘you are fired’ …?

Ren’s hands shook as she opened the door.

This was Gary Dettling. You did what he said. You got out of his office when he said ‘get out of my office’.

And you awaited further instructions.

Just say it. While it’s all laid out. Get it over with while you can.

‘Gary, I’m seeing Ben Rader.’

Gary didn’t look up. ‘He’s a good guy,’ he said.

‘He is,’ said Ren. She hovered for a minute. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘Ren?’ said Gary.

‘Yes?’

‘Let him look after you.’

OK.

Ren closed the door gently behind her.

She went in to Cliff and sat at the edge of his desk.

‘How’s my girl?’ he said patting her leg.

‘Not good,’ said Ren.

‘I don’t like to hear that,’ said Cliff.

‘I’m scarred,’ said Ren. ‘I know too much.’ She shook her head.

‘About what?’ said Cliff.

‘Everything,’ said Ren. ‘How does it all work? Everyone getting diagnosed with shit, more drugs taken, more people messed up?’

‘Meds work for a lot of people,’ said Cliff.

‘I’m not saying they don’t,’ said Ren. ‘But there is something very, very wrong if the most successful drugs in a country are antipsychotics. And the people making them are being sued, left and right. That’s what I’m saying. And giving kids psychotropic drugs? That’s a whole pile of wrong. Children being diagnosed bipolar aged two? Just for wanting to jump around, and laugh and sing and dance, and — God forbid — not be compliant?’

‘Our neighbor’s an elementary school teacher,’ said Cliff. ‘She has nine certified hyperactive children in her class. And she says if you open their lunchboxes, you might as well have a pound of sugar in there.’

‘Well, great!’ said Ren, ‘those kids will be ready for weight-loss drugs further down the line, maybe some diabetes drugs … Look at Joshua Merritt — he’d obviously gained weight if his little stepsister’s calling him a fat freak, he’s losing it …’ She let out a breath. ‘Maybe Henry Gadsden’s dream is coming through — these companies really will be able to sell to everyone.’

Ren could feel it again, that brief shift inside, that spike of rage. It was useful for work. It got results. It felt so scary, it felt good. When she was aware of it — rarely while it was happening, mostly in hindsight — she called it the bad side of mania. She had said it to Matt once.

‘Hate to break it to you, Ren — mania is one big bad side.’

‘You’ve been to paradise, but you haven’t been to me …’ she had said. Matt didn’t laugh with her.

‘Ren. Please,’ he had said, ‘you know this. The fallout is never worth it-’

Reminiscence over.

There are two sides, Matt. And you’ll never understand that soaring high. It is worth it, it always is. Every time.

Her anger toward Matt flared. She could feel her raised heart beat, her narrowed eyes, her frown.

The bad side, if it took hold, brought with it a strange, roaming anger. It moved like the sea, rolling up on an unsuspecting shore, crashing down, retreating, leaving in its wake an altered landscape. From a distance, it was something beautiful, clear, and alive. But, underneath, it was raging. And then it would strike, tearing at the shore, carrying away broken parts.

Dr Leonard Lone opened his door with a smile.

You are a billionaire.

‘Ren,’ said Dr Lone. ‘Welcome. Come in, take a seat.’

‘Thank you.’

A candle was burning on the windowsill, and classical music played from a Bose stereo.

‘How have you been?’ said Dr Lone, sitting back in his chair.

You are a billionaire. ‘I’m good,’ said Ren. ‘Great.’ You are a billionaire.

Dr Lone nodded.

‘I’ve been very busy with work,’ said Ren. You are a billionaire. ‘It’s been very intense. But, the outcome was positive. We took out a few of your friends in the pharmaceutical industry.’

He smiled. ‘I saw that in the newspaper. Well done. That must have been very satisfying.’

‘It was,’ said Ren. ‘It was amazing. We all put in a lot of hard work.’

I slept with two men. I crashed a car. I punched my colleague. You are a billionaire.

‘And how are you feeling after all that?’ said Dr Lone.

‘Great,’ said Ren. ‘Great.’ She started to cry.