A Foregone Conclusion

A CONCERNED MOTHER

“She’s always been like this. Even her pediatrician told me that she might have SPD.” Mrs. Ray clutched at her purse handle. The fine leather scrunched in her fist as she tightened her grip. “He recommended you since you’ve dealt with schizoid kids before. But my daughter having schizoid? That’s just....”

“Schizoid personality disorder is treatable at a young age, Mrs. Ray.” Dr. Evens said. He began to write quick notes as he pressed for more information. This wasn’t a rare case. Overly precautious parents came in all the time to discuss the possible behavioral disorders in their children. Dr. Evens would never question it though. Who was he to complain about money in his pocket? “Tell me about her school life. Is she sociable? Does she spend a lot of time with other kids her age?“

“Her teacher tells me that she’s wonderful in class. She doesn’t cause any trouble, she has excellent grades; I couldn’t for ask anything more. But...” Tears began to well up in Mrs. Ray’s eyes. Dr. Evens offered some tissue, but she waved it away as she wiped it off with a handkerchief. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “But my little Moira is always by herself on the playground. I don’t know why the other kids don’t want to play with her. It pains me to hear her teacher tell me how she walks around the playground by herself. Just walking and watching. Walking and watching...”

“Have you asked her why she doesn’t talk with her classmates? Why she prefers to play by herself?” Dr. Evens asked. The emotional feedback he received was something he expected as well.

“I have! But she would say that she just doesn’t feel like it. I try to push her to try and make some friends! I’ve tried all I could,” she said pleadingly, as if trying to convince herself that her child’s behavior wasn’t her own doing. “I’ve signed her into Girl Scouts. I’ve registered her to attend multiple school clubs that I thought she would be interested in. I’ve tried everything I can!”

Dr. Evens nodded in understanding. He put a hand on the woman’s shoulder as she muffled her sobs in the handkerchief. “It’s okay Mrs. Ray. I understand.” His pen and notepad had been set down. He was finished with analyzing the current situation. “Why don’t we bring Moira in now? I’d like to have some time to talk to her before ending today’s session.”

Ms. Ray turned red, embarrassed to be seen crying in front of a man other then her husband. Tidying herself up a bit, she bid a small farewell before leaving to fetch her husband and daughter.

As he waited, Dr. Evens looked up at the clock. It was about half past two. He had another appointment at three followed by another at four. There was a lot to do, and little time in the day to do it all. He knew he’d miss his son’s birthday party tomorrow as well.

A HESITANT FATHER

“Go on, introduce yourself to Dr. Evens.” Mr. Ray urged the young girl forward. She complied with little complaint as she took a step towards the doctor.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Evens.” Moira gave a small curtsey. Her hair fell just over her shoulders as she arched her back slightly in a bow. She had a cute baby face and deep black eyes. “Though I think you already know, I’m Moira.”

Dr. Evens smiled. His features softened as he switched his tone during the transition from talking to an adult to a child.  “So you’re the Moira I’ve been hearing so much about. How are you today?”

“Fine, Thank you very much!” she said in a singsong voice. Dr. Evens offered the red leather couch for her to sit in. When he saw Mr. Ray follow his daughter to the sitting area, Dr. Evens gave a small cough to get his attention.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to her in private,” he said while gesturing the father to the door.

Smiling sadly, Mr. Ray was left with little choice but to join his wife in the waiting room. Before he could even reach for the doorknob however, he felt someone grab a hold of his leg. Looking down, he saw little Moira hugging him tightly with her big saucer eyes staring back up at him.

“It’s okay Daddy. I’ll be a good girl!” Moira said, a bright smile on her face. “I won’t cause any trouble, so you and Mommy won’t have to worry!”

Mr. Ray knelt down and held his daughter close to his heart. “Yes. You be a good girl. You’ll always be my little angel.” And though it pained him to leave during such a rare moment of tenderness, he straightened himself up. The clock was ticking, and he could feel Dr. Evens’ stare on his back. Nodding to the doctor, he made his exit.

The door clicked as it closed behind him.

SCRIPTED

            Moira looked at him almost expectantly. Her attention now completely focused on the doctor. “I’ll tell you right now, Dr. Evens. You’re the fifth psychiatrist I’ve met so far.” She stated this matter of factly. Her eyes wandered across the room as if taking in the surroundings.

            “Oh? How do you feel about that? Do you not like being taken to these sessions?” Dr. Evens asked as an attempt at sounding more uplifting. His office may not have been the most cheerful looking in the firm, but he had tried his best to make his patients as comfortable as possible. He set the small notepad down on his lap so as to appear attentive to the child.

            “No. I don’t particularly care. Though it does make mother and father quite happy to know that they’re helping me of course.” She shrugged with a detached look on her face. She swung her legs, which barely touched the ground, up and down from her seat. “I just thought you might want to know.”

            “That’s quite considerate of you.” Dr. Evens said. “So Moira, how are you liking school?”

            “Boring. Trivial. Though I suppose it’s interesting to watch everyone.”

            While she indeed had a doll like face, her tone seemed almost bitterly cold. A PhD in child psychiatry wasn’t necessary to see her obvious dismay. “I hear from your mother that you’ve been having trouble making friends.”

            “It’s not that I have trouble making friends” Moira muttered, annoyed at the accusation. From the moment her parents left her alone, her previously cherry pie personality had disappeared. “There just really isn’t a point. I have a lot of acquaintances I suppose. And one friend. That’s all I need.”

            “And who might that be?”

            “Myself.”

            Dr. Evens looked worried. He tried to reason with the misled child. “But Moira, won’t you get lonely by yourself?”

            “Don’t get me wrong, Dr. Evens! I love everyone equally!” Moira waved her hand casually in front of her as if trying to dismiss the doctor’s presumptions. “But if there is one person I can love more then anybody else, it’s myself. Obviously.”

            Dr. Evens looked at Moira curiously. He was about to say some words of comfort. Perhaps something along the lines of “It’s okay to be scared to reach out to others”, or “You’re not alone. You have your parents and myself to help you through this.” But before he could get a word in, Moira continued to speak her thoughts.

“You’d probably say I’m indifferent, right? It’s one of the symptoms of that SPD affliction that mother keeps talking about in a hushed voice to father. But I wouldn’t call it that.” Moira said. She had a mischievous look on her face. A small smile as if she was about to share some deep secret.

“Fate is what people call it, right? Everything is already planned. Every little event that happens to every little thing is already dictated by a master plan.” Pausing slightly, she raised both her hands high to show the epic proportions of her grand reveal. “My master plan of course.”

She waited. Looking at the doctor expectantly, arms still raised, she waited for his reaction. Perhaps a stupefied look, followed by awe, followed by reverence she had hoped. But all she received was the usual calmly rehearsed response.

“Why do you think that?” Dr. Evens said. He took down some notes.

“Because it’s a fact of life.” She twisted her hair around her finger playfully.

“Has something happened to make you feel that way?”

“Nothing happened.” Moira shook her head in dismay. She sank into the sofa, despondent at her failure in providing a convincing argument. “It’s okay that you don’t believe me, Dr. Evens. It’s written all over your face.”

She sighed.

“I don’t want to force you to believe me either. That would be too easy.” Moira looked up at the clock that hung just above the door. It was five minutes before three. “How about it if I proved it to you?”

“You don’t have to.” Dr. Evens said as he looked up from his notes. He didn’t want to shatter the poor girl’s delusions. If there’s one thing he learned in child psychology, breaking a child’s fantasy was detrimental to their development.

“I insist. It’ll ease my boredom. Wait. Wait! Let me think!” She put a finger over her lips and began to sway her head left and right like a child deciding on what candy to get from the grocery aisle. It oddly gave the doctor an impression of a pendulum. Her eyes seemed to glimmer when the idea struck her. “Your kid’s birthday is tomorrow isn’t it? But you have a full schedule tomorrow, and won’t be able to attend the surprise birthday party Mrs. Evens is preparing for.”

Dr. Evens’ head shot up from his notepad as if something remarkable had happened. “How did...?”

“Wait! Wait! Let me finish!” Moira held her hand up to the doctor’s face before he could get another word in. “You really wanted to go, right? Your kid’s been growing further and further away from you! So far that you think he might forget you altogether!” She giggled as if she wanted to hurry to the best part. “I should know, since it’s what I had already wrote out about a year ago. But how about I make it possible for you to go?”

At that, the clock overhead chimed three times exactly. Ding! Ding! Ding!

            “It’s time for me to go!” Moira clapped her hands together before jumping off the sofa. With a skip in her step she hopped over to the door.

            “Wait, Moira! Another word.” Dr. Evens tried to ask the young girl to explain herself, but she had already reached the door.

She turned around to look back at the doctor, but simply waved goodbye. “I’ll get started right when I get home. Tell me how you liked the chocolate chip ice cream cake! Bye bye!”

The door clicked as it closed behind her.

AS A RESULT

            Dr. Joshua Evens turned the alarm off. He was the first to wake as usual. He would always be the last to return home as well. His wife rustled under the bed sheets. Her eyes opened slightly, a glaze over her eyes.

            “Will you be here for Daniel’s surprise party?” She asked in a low mumble. She already knew the answer. He’d told her multiple times already. The surprise party was her plan to bring father and son back together after the incident. But Joshua Evens was always busy; busy working with the problems of other children and other parents.

            He frowned. Not wanting to answer, he silently got out of bed to get ready for work. With methodical purpose, he continued his morning routine. As he came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, he heard his phone ring.

            RingRingRing... RingRingRing... RingRingRing... Ring—

            He picked it up.

            “Hello?” he asked, hiding his annoyance. Who called at 8:30AM in the morning? His wife raised her head slightly. The obnoxious ringtone of his phone shook the loose grasp on the dream she had. “Ah... Ah Yes... .... ....Yes, that should be alright. Next Tuesday...? Okay, I’ll take note of that. Take care.”

            He hung up.

            “Who was it?” His wife muttered as she plopped her head back onto her pillow. He was about to answer, but his phone began to chime again.

            RingRingRing... RingRing—

            He picked it up again.

            “Hello?” He asked once more. Though, this time with a tentative approach. “Yes, this is Dr. Evens. Ah... Yes... .... ....That’s alright. I understand. I will see you next week.”

            Just as he hung up his phone, another call came through.

RingRingRing—

And he picked it up again.

DISSASTISFACTION OF A BLESSING

            “Happy Birthday!” All the kids cheered together as Mrs. Evens brought out the cake. The colorful candles were already lit, glowing brightly in the dimness of the living room. Dr. Evens followed closely behind with a stack of paper plates in one hand and a box of plastic forks in the other. His son looked so happy, he thought. It felt like such a long time since he had seen him like that.

            But at the same time, everything felt slightly off. It felt as if he didn’t belong here. Normally, it was around this time that he would be at the psychiatry office. He was to meet James Banks at 5 o’clock, followed by Sophia Lee at 6, and lastly Kelvin Reed at 7 o’clock. What were the chances that all three would cancel their appointments with him? While he sat here with his family and his son’s friends, he was getting no work done. He was losing money, losing those hours in the day. It was because of her, wasn’t it?

            These thoughts passed through his mind. He couldn’t help but frown slightly as his son blew out the candles.

GOD IS AFRAID

            “Bye-Bye mommy!” Moira hugged her mother’s leg good bye before she excused herself to the waiting room.

            “See you soon, Moi-Moi. Be a good girl to Dr. Evens” Ms. Ray said as she stroked a gentle hand over the girl’s head. “Me and daddy will be just outside.”

            The door clicked behind Ms. Ray.

            And the two of them were alone again for another half hour. Moira turned to look at Dr. Evens with a sharp glimmer in her eyes.

            “So how was your son’s birthday? I bet he was really surprised to see you there with everyone!” Moira smiled happily at Dr. Evens. He didn’t quite know what to say. Was it a coincidence? Moira looked at him, expecting acknowledgement. “Or is it that you don’t believe me still?”

            “I always believed you.” Dr. Evens assured her. He hid his unnerving thoughts well, but the girl’s deep black eyes seemed to look past the barriers of his mind and into his soul.

            “Oh my, such a blatant lie~!” Moira said with dripping sarcasm in her voice. She was obviously disappointed by the response.

            “Tell me Moira, you attend Sunday church, right?” Dr. Evens picked up his notepad as if to avoid eye contact with the child. It was shameful, perhaps his colleagues would call it unprofessional, but somehow staring into those black eyes of hers was akin to staring into the darkest abyss. “During our last session, I remember you saying that you feel that the one you can love the most is yourself. Perhaps were you referring to God who resides within us all?”

            Moira looked at him questioningly as if confused on what exactly Dr. Evens was asking. She waited for him to elaborate.

            “Perhaps you’re referring to how you actually love God most of all. Perhaps your attachment to a master plan is related to the all-knowingness of God himself.”

            He glanced up from his notebook. Moira was looking at him in wide-eyed disbelief.  She looked around the room, swinging her head left and right, as if wondering whether the walls literally had ears.

            “I don’t want to brag, but I do know of a God. And yes, I would say I love him.” She shrugged her small shoulders slightly. “I love him just like how I love you. And how I love my mother. My father. My schoolmates. Everyone.” Her eyes seemed to roll up to the ceiling as if naming all of things that she loved atop her head. Her gaze fell back on Dr. Evens just as he retreated to his notepad.

            “Is that not against the teachings of Christianity? Should you not love God more than—”

            “Who said I loved him because I’m a Christian?” Moira interrupted. A bored look on her face as if the doctor had said the most trite thing possible. “I love him for the same reason why I love all of you. If anything, he may actually fear me.”

            Dr. Evens was speechless. What could he say to such logic? Was it something he should correct? He wondered this to himself. Dr. Evens briefly considered believing her words as the truth. But the morning of his son’s birthday was probably a coincidence. Maybe he should confirm it another time? But every time he looked at little Moira, he couldn’t bring himself to admit it.

            He looked up at the clock, then back at the small child. The many possibilities rolled in his head. He wanted to test one more thing.

TEMPTING FATE

            “Moira, please. Listen to me.”

            He didn’t notice that he had been holding his breath.

“No. You listen to me!”  She retorted. Her obvious frustration made Dr. Evens nervous. It was like walking on eggshells. One misstep could set the girl off. “Do I have to spell it out for you? What do I have to do to convince you to acknowledge me?!”

            Dr. Evens fell silent. He tried to look skeptic; skeptic of the power Moira claimed to have. Though try as he might, he knew the attempt was futile.

            “Ah. I get it.” She said. “That last example was probably not good enough right? Were you unhappy with what I did?”

            He felt as if he were being interrogated as questions, or rather accusations, streamed out of the child’s mouth. There was nothing that he could say. Everything that she said was true.

            She was expecting denial, but a deafening silence filled the room instead as she waited wordlessly for his response.

            “Alright. How about this.” Moira clapped her hands together. She thought of what had exactly plagued Dr. Evens’ mind on that day she had bestowed upon him. “How about I make you rich beyond your wildest dreams then?”

            “You don’t have to.” Dr. Evens tried to state evenly, but his voice couldn’t help but quiver. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

            Moira tilted her head playfully. A devious smile crept upon her lips.

            “I insist.”

BY CHANCE OR BY FATE

            There he was. Listening to the radio with a crowd of others who decided to throw away money on a lottery ticket as well. Dr. Evens wasn’t one to gamble. But then again, Dr. Evens was also not one to play off a child’s imagination either. However, he had felt almost drawn to the local 7-11 in the downtown district from where he worked as he left the office. It had been the last day to buy a ticket for the lotto.

He didn’t particularly care. Dr. Evens repeated this to himself. He chose a mesh of his high school and college student ID numbers to come up with a random combination to put on the ticket.

            “And here come the winning numbers...!!” The cheery show woman’s voice was drenched in contagious excitement. “13... 37... 15... 62... 34... and our Kajillion Ball number is 7!”

            Dr. Evens looked down at his ticket. None of the numbers matched.

            He crumpled the paper up along with everyone else in the crowd. Maybe he should try his backyard later.

            He made the slow trek towards home. The sun was coming down, and the streetlights flickered to life on schedule. He’d miss the usual subway time that he took home.  His initial plan was to take a taxi after winning the lotto. It was idiotic. He admitted that. But at the time, it seemed so reasonable.

            Such stupidity. Actually believing something like that. He repeated to himself in a low voice. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

            A shuffling sound up ahead however caught his attention. In the midst of the night, he saw a hooded man dragging his feet along the sidewalk. The scraping of his soles on the rough cement grew louder as he drew closer. He was gripping his chest with one arm and a duffel bag in the other. Pain seemed to contort the stranger’s face.

            Dr. Evens didn’t want any trouble. He tried to avoid eye contact with the man. Perhaps even cross the street to get away from him. But before he could take any action to escape, the stranger was already but a few feet in front of him before collapsing. He landed face first into the cement. The loud thud of a head hitting the floor was what shocked him.

            It was impossible to ignore at this point. There was, of course, the option for Dr. Evens to simply leave the man where he was. Abandon the stranger in the dead of night. But what kind of a psychiatrist would he be if he did that?

            As he turned the man over, the duffel bag fell to the floor. And with it, its contents spilled out. Stacks of hundred dollar bills poked their heads out of the broken zipper. With his eyes glued to the money, Dr. Evens didn’t notice the red rose that bloomed on the stranger’s chest.

            He did however notice the sound of gunshots in the distance. Followed by yelling. And followed by the sound of footsteps drawing closer and closer.

            As if in the heat of the moment, or perhaps as if pulled by another an un-worldly force, Dr. Evens snatched the duffel bag up and made a run for it.

THE END

            “I’m sorry to hear about your accident, Dr. Evens.” Mr. Ray said. He looked almost mournful as he stared down the hospital bed. Joshua Evens was hooked up to what looked like walls of machinery. There was a machine to function for every single one of his bodily processes: One to help him breath, one to help him eat, all to help him stay alive. “Moira has really taken a liking to you. Ever since she heard about your accident, she’s been begging us to let her visit you.”

            Dr. Evens’ tired eyes looked at Mr. Ray, then to the doorway where Moira stood silently. He regarded the man’s statement in silence.

            “I hope you don’t mind.” Mr. Ray lowered his head slightly as if in apology. He took the silence as consent to leave. He turned away, and gestured to his daughter that it was okay to approach. “Don’t take too long, Moira. Dr. Evens needs his rest.”

            “Don’t worry Daddy, it won’t be long.” Moira gave a bright smile as she saw her father off. But Dr. Evens knew better now on what was hidden behind that child like innocence.

            Dr. Evens raised a bandaged arm to reach out towards the little girl. He was like a mummy from one of those monster flicks in how his hand quivered under the weight of gravity. His voice was barely audible underneath the breathing mask. “Please... Moira...”

            “Yes, Dr. Evens?”

            It took all his strength to speak. His voice was hoarse as he begged, “Please... I... don’t want to die here...” His eyes were welling up. The expression of confusion and fear was laid bare upon his face. To anyone else, he was asking the impossible. Yet it seemed completely logical if it were she that heard his plea. “I... don’t want to die. Not... yet...”

            “Don’t worry” Moira softly said. She took his outstretched arm in her hands. “It isn’t quite your time yet. That I can say, is already a foretold conclusion.”