The Lobotomist's Wife(46)

“Yeah, it is.” He looked down at the ground and kicked a beer can under the bed. As if he could hide it there. “But I dunno. Cuttin’ into people’s brains. Doesn’t seem right somehow. It’s ungodly.”

Robert winced. He detested that turn of phrase. God had given man the ability to reason, and Robert had used this gift of reason to develop a miraculous way to ease suffering. It was religious poetry, that’s what it was.

He noticed an overflowing ashtray on the small desk. He needed to get out of this filthy place as soon as possible. “Mr. Orenbluth, may I call you Sam?” The man nodded. “Sam, did your doctor at the hospital explain the reason for lobotomy to you?”

Sam nodded again slowly—it seemed he was hesitant to admit too much.

“From what I see in your file, there is a strong chance that you will be placed in lockdown at an institution based on your recent behavior. Did the doctor tell you that?”

More nods.

“So, you understand that this is going to help you? To let you have a life? To keep you out of prison?”

“Yeah. But what kinda life will it be without all of my brain?”

“I think you misunderstand. You will retain your brain. You will just lose the connections that make you do the bad and violent things, like breaking a beer bottle and holding it at the bartender’s throat for giving you the wrong change.”

Sam looked down in shame. “I wasn’t really gonna hurt him. Just wanted him to know he couldn’t mess with me.”

“Whatever the details of that event, they led you to the hospital where you ended up on my schedule. I am only in town for one more day, Sam. And I am the man who invented this procedure. I have performed more of them than anyone else in the country. My understanding is that the state wants you to have a lobotomy one way or another. So, would you rather come to the hospital tomorrow and have it done by the country’s expert, or wait longer and let one of the staff members, who I will have just trained, stick an ice pick in your brain?”

“Stop! Stop talking about it! I don’t want it! I’ll be better. I promise.”

Robert looked at the man in front of him. He wasn’t tall, but he was quite solid and a bit overweight. He could hurt Robert badly if he wasn’t careful. Robert bent down and opened the top of his electroshock machine and plugged it in. It began to hum.

“What’s that? Whatcha doin’? Don’t hurt me!”

“It’s okay, Sam. It’s okay.” Robert looked at him with his kindest and gentlest smile. He needed to get him sedated before things got out of hand. “This is simply a tool that I use to help patients who are feeling very worried. Come sit here on the floor with me and have a look. See, these coils hold electricity, like inside of a light bulb. Sometimes I use it on myself for a headache; it feels lovely, really. A small tickle that just makes my body relax.” He lifted the two metal cups and held them on either side of his temples. “I just place these little cups here, like this, step on that pedal there, and the next thing you know, you will feel calm and peaceful. You probably won’t even remember what you were worrying about.” Sam seemed to be calming down just by listening. “This is such a good treatment that you will feel relaxed and fearless all the way until tomorrow, when I will see you at the hospital, and if you want, I can use this again. Would you like to try it?”

“Will it hurt?”

“You won’t feel a thing. I promise.” Robert leaned over to Sam and, in one deft movement, placed the electrodes on his head and stepped on the pedal. Sam convulsed momentarily and his upper lip curled as a shot of current ran through him. When Robert released the pedal, along with his grasp on Sam, the man slumped over onto the floor, unconscious. Robert unplugged the machine and packed it neatly back up. He thought it might be better to leave Sam in a prone position, so he grabbed under his armpits and drew his torso long. Sam was so listless that Robert might have worried he was dead if he didn’t see the man’s chest rising and falling with breath. Well, that should keep him until tomorrow.

Robert stood to go and, as he reached for the doorknob, noticed the white cuff of his lab coat. He had come over in such a hurry that he hadn’t yet removed it. Placing the electroshock on the floor, he sat in the small vinyl chair next to the desk, the seed of an idea taking root. A brilliant idea, actually. He slid his hand into the lab coat pocket and fingered the orbitoclast—the metal “ice pick.” He didn’t have a mallet, but he could probably quickly run to get one from his car. He’d rather not take the chance, though. Perhaps there was something in the room he could use. He scanned the area, looking through the mess for something heavy and blunt enough to act as a surrogate hammer. An empty bottle was too risky; the glass might shatter. His eyes landed on the nightstand. Smiling at his cleverness, he walked toward it, opened the drawer, and removed the large book that sat inside.

He locked the door and knelt down next to Sam on the filthy carpet. He straightened Sam’s undershirt, and then carefully laid the orbitoclast and the book on his stomach, amused that Sam made such a fine instrument tray. Then he deftly flipped open Sam’s right eyelid and went to work. The book was a bit more unwieldy than a mallet, but it did the trick. And Robert did love the poetry of it. “I’ll show you ungodly,” he muttered as he gave the metal stake its final tap.

He watched Sam for five minutes after he had finished, to make sure his breath remained steady. And then he placed the Bible back in the drawer and went into the hallway bathroom to give the orbitoclast a thorough rinse. By the time he returned, Sam had started to stir. Robert settled himself in the chair and calmly waited. Slowly, Sam moved his body a bit more and then turned to his side, curling up in a fetal position with a soft smile on his face.