JК
Ыоуве Been Warned :: Patterson James
Страница: 84 из 138At least I think that’s what just happened. I pull in vain on the handle. I’m trapped.
“UNLOCK THE DOOR!” I yell at the cabbie, but he doesn’t. Maybe because I’ve succeeded in scaring the hell out of him.
Up ahead, I see the brick wall of a building getting close in a hurry. It’s a dead end in the worst sense of the word.
I can’t bear to look at this. I close my eyes and cover my face with my arm.
Then WHACK! BAM! CRASH! As though my life is a cartoon.
Everything goes black.
Chapter 66
“WHAT’S THE NAME of this hospital?” I ask the thirty-something doctor as he looks up from the clipboard in his lap.
“Our Lady of Hope,” he answers.
“And how did I get here again?”
“A cabdriver dropped you off. He said you started screaming in his backseat so he slammed on the brakes. That’s when you hit your head on the divider. Apparently, it knocked you out.”
Dr. Curley, as his name tag reads, squints at my hairline. “Now, are you sure I can’t get you some more ice for that nasty bump?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “I’m okay.”
But I’m clearly not, and he knows it. The nurses and doctors in the emergency room were quick to grasp it too. All it took was five minutes of my rambling on about bizarre photographs, devils, a recurring dream, the Ponytail, and subdermal cockroaches before the consensus concern for my head officially had nothing to do with the nasty bump on it.
Kristin, say hello to Dr. Curley – our staff psychiatrist here at the hospital.
I’m sitting across from him in a small office near the waiting room. There’s no desk, no pictures on the wall, no phone – just two folding chairs. Cozy.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” I ask.
Dr. Curley, a warm and fuzzy type with a mop of longish blond hair, taps his pen a few times on his clipboard before shrugging. “Do you think you’re crazy?”
“I must be if they called you down here to see me. Don’t you think so?”
“Don’t read too much into that.” He leans in as if sharing a secret. “Between you and me, the hospital is usually just trying to get their money’s worth from having a shrink on staff. And they like to protect their butts.”
“Though I suppose I can’t blame them in my case,” I say.
He glances down at the notes he’s been taking. He certainly seems nicer than my ex-therapist, Dr. Corey, and from what I can tell, he doesn’t smoke a ridiculous pipe.
“UNLOCK THE DOOR!” I yell at the cabbie, but he doesn’t. Maybe because I’ve succeeded in scaring the hell out of him.
Up ahead, I see the brick wall of a building getting close in a hurry. It’s a dead end in the worst sense of the word.
I can’t bear to look at this. I close my eyes and cover my face with my arm.
Then WHACK! BAM! CRASH! As though my life is a cartoon.
Everything goes black.
Chapter 66
“WHAT’S THE NAME of this hospital?” I ask the thirty-something doctor as he looks up from the clipboard in his lap.
“Our Lady of Hope,” he answers.
“And how did I get here again?”
“A cabdriver dropped you off. He said you started screaming in his backseat so he slammed on the brakes. That’s when you hit your head on the divider. Apparently, it knocked you out.”
Dr. Curley, as his name tag reads, squints at my hairline. “Now, are you sure I can’t get you some more ice for that nasty bump?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “I’m okay.”
But I’m clearly not, and he knows it. The nurses and doctors in the emergency room were quick to grasp it too. All it took was five minutes of my rambling on about bizarre photographs, devils, a recurring dream, the Ponytail, and subdermal cockroaches before the consensus concern for my head officially had nothing to do with the nasty bump on it.
Kristin, say hello to Dr. Curley – our staff psychiatrist here at the hospital.
I’m sitting across from him in a small office near the waiting room. There’s no desk, no pictures on the wall, no phone – just two folding chairs. Cozy.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” I ask.
Dr. Curley, a warm and fuzzy type with a mop of longish blond hair, taps his pen a few times on his clipboard before shrugging. “Do you think you’re crazy?”
“I must be if they called you down here to see me. Don’t you think so?”
“Don’t read too much into that.” He leans in as if sharing a secret. “Between you and me, the hospital is usually just trying to get their money’s worth from having a shrink on staff. And they like to protect their butts.”
“Though I suppose I can’t blame them in my case,” I say.
He glances down at the notes he’s been taking. He certainly seems nicer than my ex-therapist, Dr. Corey, and from what I can tell, he doesn’t smoke a ridiculous pipe.