Taming of the Screw March 6, 2008

 

Taming of the Screw

I remember it vividly. The hushed voices of my relatives everytime she passed by. The questioning looks that she received when she joined in the conversations. I could feel it in the dead air, she did not belong. She felt it too and subsequently, she leaves and the world is back to normal again. I first heard the word “crazy” because of her. They labeled her as one.

Many years have passed and I seldom saw her. There were instances when she would stay at my grandmother’s house for a couple of days but as a child, I feared her. People told me “You should not go near crazy people.” Her husband cheated on her. She went insane because of a broken heart. Her children abandoned her later. Without medication, she would pace the floor endlessly and mouthed incomprehensible phrases. I veered away from her especially during meal times. When I was acting up, my own mom would say, “Do you want to be crazy like your grand- aunt? She lost everything so better be sane!” These words rung in my head thus my careful threading on my behavior ensued.

I was a senior intern in a psychiatric ward. I saw different faces of confusion, bewilderment and entrapment. I resigned myself as being a coward for having palpitations when I was assigned my first case. I had to do this so I can graduate. I memorized my psychiatry books so it wouldn’t be that hard. Little did I know.

He was a tall man with a few gray strands. He stared at me as I pulled up a chair in front of him. I introduced myself and mechanically recited the procedures of our session. He stared. I was speechless. He stared more. I felt idiotic. He stared at me longer. I shifted uncomfortably.

I like Superman. Do you like him too? He is amazing, can fly and can lift heavy objects. Who is your favorite superhero?

Batman.

That gray uniform looks good on you. I bet you’re only 18 years old. I have a daughter but she is younger. Do you have a boyfriend already? If not, you should have.

19 years old. I have a boyfriend, which I should not have.

Our session ended with nothing for me to log on my notes. I bid him farewell and he nodded. I asked my instructor if she could assign me to another patient. I was denied so I cursed while driving myself home.

I saw him twice a week and the staring got worse. I sat there with my empty notes. He seemed to enjoy himself.

One afternoon, I saw him in a corner in the basketball court. He looked dirty and disheveled. I greeted him as I nervously put a chair in front of him. Then he started talking.

You think I am crazy. So crazy that you cannot even talk. You are like the rest, you think you are Jesus Christ to persecute us. Look at this place! I should not even be here.

Why do you think you are here?

I had an argument with my wife. She told me I was a stupid jerk. I was a cuckold. I snapped and next thing I knew, I was on a bed in this hospital. I lost my job. I was a professor at the University of ______.

I am sorry to hear that. (I am sorry Grand- Aunt)

I want to get out of here. I want to see my daughter, my house. I want to ask forgiveness from my wife. I hope she still loves me. She never visited, no one did. I guess I am scary. Are you scared of me?

I am not scared of you. I think in time, you will be able to return to your family. You will get better.

I hope your words will be a reality.

Then he sings “I’m leaving on a jetplane.” I found myself humming and the weeks that followed, I found myself driving fast to see this man every week. It was different because I listened to him. I listened to his stories, fascinated with his life outside the gates. My notes were still relatively empty much to the disappointment of my instructor.

The day finally came and he was to be released. I wrote my final report on our sessions and he was overwhelmed, his eyes beaming with excitement.

My wife will pick me up. Do I look aright with this shirt?

 

Joy did not last long. After two weeks, he was re- admitted to the hospital. An unfortunate incident happened. He was buying from the local store when a teenager started taunting him.

Crazy old man! You belong to the loony bin. You will always be crazy! Hahaha! Your daughter must be ashamed having you as a crazy dad.

He returned to his house and brought out a kitchen knife. He went inside the store and slit the throat of the young man.

I sat in front of him. I could not say anything. He stared at me like the first time.

I sobbed openly. He did not make a sound. I completely lost him.

I graduated from college and he never talked ever since.

I’m leaving on a jet plane.
Don’t know when ill be back again.
Oh, babe, I hate to go.