Robin Cook - Godplayer

Cassi also described Colonel Bentworth’s apparent improvement as well as his attempts to manipulate her. Jacob Levine found this particularly interesting but warned Cassi about jumping to premature conclusions.

“Remember, borderlines can be unpredictable,” said Jacob, taking off his glasses and pointing them at Cassi for emphasis.

The meeting broke up early since there were no new admissions nor new problems. Cassi declined an offer of coffee, as she did not want to be late for Colonel Bentworth. When she got back to her office, he was waiting by the door.

“Good morning,” said Cassi as brightly as she could, opening her office door and entering.

The colonel was silent as he followed Cassi in and sat down. She self-consciously took her place behind the desk. Cassi didn’t know why, but the colonel exacerbated her professional insecurities, especially when he stared at her with those penetratingly blue eyes which she finally realized reminded her of Thomas’s. They were both the same startling turquoise.

Bentworth again did not look like a patient. He was impeccably dressed and seemed to have totally regained his air of command. The only visible hint he was the same person Cassi had admitted several weeks earlier were the healing burns on his forearm.

“I don’t know how to begin,” said Bentworth.

“Maybe you could start by telling me why you’ve changed your mind about seeing me. Up until now you’ve refused private sessions.”

“Do you want it straight?”

“That’s always the best way,” said Cassi.

“Well, to tell the truth, I want a weekend pass.”

“But that kind of decision is usually made by the group.”

Group was Bentworth’s major therapeutic agent at the moment.

“That’s true,” said the colonel, “but the goddamn ignorant sons of bitches wouldn’t let me go. You could overrule them. I know that.”

“And why would I want to overrule the people who know you the best?”

“They don’t know me,” shouted Bentworth, slapping his hand on the desk.

The sudden movement frightened Cassi, but she said quietly, “That kind of behavior is not going to get you anywhere.”

“Jesus Christ!” said Bentworth. He got up and paced the small room. When Cassi didn’t react, he threw himself back into his chair. Cassi could see a small vein throbbing in his temple.

“Sometimes I think it would be easier just to give up,” said Bentworth.

“Why didn’t the members of your group think you should have a weekend pass?” asked Cassi. The only thing she was prepared for on Bentworth’s part was manipulative behavior, and she wasn’t going to fall for it.

“I don’t know,” said the colonel.

“You must have an idea.”

“They don’t like me. Is that good enough? They’re all a bunch of jerks. Blue-collar workers, for Christ’s sake.”

“That sounds pretty hostile.”

“Yeah, well, I hate them all.”

“They happen to be people like you with problems.”

Bentworth didn’t respond immediately, and Cassi tried to remember what she’d read about treating borderline personalities. The actuality of psychiatry seemed a thousand times more difficult than the conceptualization. She knew that she was supposed to play a structuring role, but she wasn’t sure exactly what that meant in the context of the current session.

“The crazy thing is that I hate them, yet I need them.” Bentworth shook his head as if he were confounded by his own statement. “I know that sounds weird, but I don’t like to be alone. The worst thing is for me to be alone. It makes me drink, and liquor makes me go nuts. I can’t help it.”

“What happens?” asked Cassi.

“I always get propositioned. It never fails. Some dude sees me and guesses I’m a stud, so he comes over and starts to talk to me. I end up beating the guy to a pulp. It’s one thing the army taught me. How to fight with my hands.”

Cassi remembered reading that both borderline personalities and narcissists wanted to protect themselves from homosexual impulses. Homosexuality could be a potentially fertile area for future sessions, but for the moment she didn’t want to push into areas that were too sensitive.

“What about your work?” asked Cassi to change the subject.

“If you want to know the truth, I’m tired of being in the army. I liked the early competition. But now that I’m a colonel, that’s over. I’ve arrived. And I’m not going to make general because too many people envy me. There is no more challenge. Every time I go into the office I get this empty feeling-like what’s the use.”

“An empty feeling?” echoed Cassi.

“Yeah, empty. I feel the same after I’ve been living with a woman for a couple of months. At first it’s intense and exciting, but it always goes sour. It gets empty. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Cassi bit her lip.

“The ideal relationship with a woman,” said Bentworth, “would be one month long. Then, puff, she’d disappear and another one would take her place. That would be perfect.”

“But you were married.”

“Yeah, I was married. Only lasted a year. I just about killed the broad. All she did was complain.”

“Are you living with someone now?”

“No. That’s why I’m here. The day before they picked me up, she walked out. I’d only known her for a couple of weeks, but she met some other guy and took off. That’s why I want to get out of here for the weekend. She’s still got a key to my apartment. I’m afraid she might clean me out.”

“Why not call a friend and have him change the lock?” said Cassi.

“There’s nobody I can trust,” said Bentworth, standing up. “Look, are you going to give me a weekend pass or is all this bull for nothing?”

“I’ll bring it up at the next team meeting,” said Cassi. “We’ll discuss it.”

Bentworth leaned over the desk. “The only thing I’ve learned in all my time in the hospital is that I hate psychiatrists. They think they’re so goddamned smart, but they’re not. They’re a hell of a lot crazier than I am.”

Cassi returned his stare, noticing how cold his eyes had become. The thought went thought her mind that Colonel Bentworth should be committed. Then she remembered he was.

Cassi knocked on the doorjamb of Robert’s tiny office. As he looked up from his binocular scope, his face broke into a broad and infectious smile. He jumped up so quickly to hug Cassi that his chair sped back on its wheels to the opposite wall.

“You look down,” said Robert examining her. “What’s wrong?”

Cassi looked away. She had had enough talk in the past few hours. “I’m just exhausted. I thought psychiatry was going to be so easy.”

“Then maybe you should transfer back to pathology,” said Robert as he pulled out a chair for Cassi. Leaning forward, he rested his hands on her knees. If any other man had done so, Cassi would have been annoyed, but she was comforted by Robert’s gesture.

“What can I get for you? Coffee? Orange juice? Anything?”

Cassi shook her head. “I wish you could give me a good night’s sleep. I’m beat, and I have to go to a party tonight at Doctor Ballantine’s home in Manchester.”

“Wonderful,” cooed Robert. “What are you going to wear?”

Cassi rolled her eyes in disbelief, saying she hadn’t given it a moment’s thought, at which point Robert, who had some knowledge of Cassi’s wardrobe, made several suggestions. Cassi interrupted to say that she’d come to hear about the autopsy, not for his fashion advice.

Robert made an exaggerated expression of being hurt and said, “The only thing that you come up here for is business. I can remember when we used to be friends.”