The next day, 10 a. m, Jed Heso went in for a therapy session.
She was tucked into a peach pink stripe pyjamas, on a light blue bed.
Dr Ife Thomas, a smiling, diminutive man with a
bald shiny head was in charge.
He was dressed in a bogus overall white, with a MD label on his top pocket.
He had looked into her state. And had chosen a combination of treatment
for the session that could keep Jed in an hour trance.
He switched on a miniscule tape recorder.
After thirty minutes, she stabilized.
"Yes... yes. He...," said Ife, sweat sprouting on his face, running unabated.
He was responding to her swings. On his flanks were two interns,
a male and female, in long white coats.
"Cut me...pieces."
He winked at his assistants.
"I can see her too. She has a paper in her hands."
Jed face concorted, in dismay, shook. Her legs kicked.
He waited for few minutes.
"Yes, I can see her now...."
"He...he... has a knife. He cut me... pieces," she screamed.
"The thin man in beards with knife," asked Ife.
She started laughing.
"Fat...fat...baby. Oh my baby. Come on baby."
"Baby girl. How old is she, dear," interjected the doctor.
"No...no, he is my boy. My big boy."
"Are you feeding your boy? Is your boy crying."
She kept smiling all through. Then the smiles vanished. They waited for a while. There was silence. Dr Ife Thomas gave his colleagues signs for a recess. He recalled her from the trance. Then sedated her. She slept off.
"Allow her to sleep. We shall continue tomorrow."
He walked out, leaving her in the care of the nurse interns. At his office, he went straight to work, removed his tie and hand gloves. Then he rewound the tape, and put it to play.
Her voice came floating....
'Cut me...pieces....'
'Fat...fat...baby.... Oh my baby...baby'
'....No...no. He is my boy.... My baby boy....'
Dr Ife Thomas was stunned. But he pulled himself together, smiling. He had seen it all, more than enough, and had had more than this. He picked up a piece of a jigsaw he was working on, and dropped it in.
She was on the extreme. Laughing when she said my baby boy. And screaming when she saw the knife, he thought.
He switched off the tape. What was the knife doing with the fat baby boy? What was he doing, cutting her?
He shuddered, and approached a steaming kettle and poured a cup of Ethiopian Coffee. He sipped some, and drew in a long whiff of air. He took two more sips, and moved over to a puzzle board. Then the door clicked, and opened. The two interns came in.
He pointed at the table.
"Please coffee or chocolate, and doughnuts."
They served themselves.
" Who is this fat boy with a knife," he asked.
"She loves him," said the lady intern as she took a bite of the doughnut.
"Loves or loved. Which!"
"Her laugh was spontaneous. It resonated like a calm wave and took a minute or two to dissipate. It is a current event."
"You might be right, Forbes. But we don't know the contending actors. Stan...."
"Yes Dr Thomas"
"What is your take?"
Stan took a deep breath. And smiled.
"She gave the impression of a fat boy...her baby. But in reality, it might be an adult, a friend, a lover, a role model. No infant or child could arouse such fright within few seconds. She passed through ecstatic laugh to a tormenting anger, kicked and threw clenched fists. The two events are unidentical twins."
There was quiet. Then Dr Ife Thomas wrote on a card, and pasted it on board.
"We agree two twin events are involved here."
Stan nodded. Forbes kept an I -don't- know- face. The doctor kept a blank gaze at them. Then he gasped, "Mm, this is a tough one. We should see her tomorrow to settle this problem."
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