Jonathan Kellerman: Breakdown

“Also an actor?”

“Nope, a cameraman she dated back when she was doing bit parts. You treat any kids of ancillaries — grips, stuntmen, lens guys?”

“I have.”

“Solid, working-class types, right? They get a big check, it’s three Harleys, not a Mercedes. That’s what this fellow is like. I called him and he was a nice guy, no genius but salt of the earth, has himself a nice little spread in Sunland, horses, dogs. Apparently not guard dogs, because in the wee hours, our Ms. Zelda climbed a fence and started pounding on his kitchen door, shrieking for him to stop being a coward, come outside, she knew he still loved her, it was time to reconnect.”

“That makes her psychotic?”

“You’re thinking I’ve missed the mark and it’s erotomania or some other stalker-type syndrome. And if that’s all that happened, you’d be right. Unfortunately she also displayed post-event stereotypic body movements — rocking, blinking — and stretches of elective muteness followed by some of the most intense flights of ideas I’ve ever heard. Including the unshakable delusion that said boyfriend had been creeping into her bedroom every night for years to have sex with her, after which he’d brutally rape her anally then pour champagne and propose marriage and the two of them would jet off to Europe. So I have no reservations calling her crazy — oh, yeah, there are command hallucinations as well: When the cops busted her, she told them her mother’s voice had ordered her to ‘finally make an honest woman out of herself.’ A mother she won’t identify other than to call her a movie star, which is obviously delusional. After that she tried to bite one of the officers on the hand.”

“I see what you mean, Lou.”

“Whether all that’s schizophrenia or a severe manic phase, I’m still not sure. Could even be both, you know how fuzzy diagnosis can get. Meanwhile, there’s pressure on me to come up with the right meds because she’s under contract for a third season and they can’t write her out without ‘messing up the story arcs.’ Reason I’ve called you in, is her son. Who, unbelievably, she’s managed to raise alone, daddy unknown. Now, obviously, something needs to be done for the poor kid while I evaluate Mommy and hopefully come up with the right serotonin-boosting cocktail. Another issue is her fitness as a parent. If you could have a look at the boy and make some recommendations — do a bit of social work if placement’s called for — I’d be eternally grateful. Compensation’s no issue, production company’s insurance is paying me portal-to-portal at a very generous level and I’ll make sure you get the same.”

“Okay.”

“Just like that,” he said. “You’ve always been an agreeable type, I knew I could count on you. Okay, how about another mood-glossing cocktail?”

Later, walking to the parking lot where his white ’61 Jaguar XK150 was protected by cones in the VIP section, he handed the valet a twenty and said, “Thanks again, Alex, we’re not talking cure, just management, but maybe we can do some good. I’ll call you tomorrow and give you the details, meanwhile here’s another tidbit: Her given name’s not Zelda, it’s Jane. She won’t say why she changed it but I’m wondering if she admires F. Scott Fitzgerald’s wife. And you know about her.”

“She went crazy,” I said.

“Oh, yeah.”

I had my first look at Zelda Chase two days later in Lou Sherman’s cushy, paneled office, sitting next to him in a sensible chair as both of us faced her. Lou and I had decades of experience between us and did our best to come across relaxed and warm. But if she figured us for a tribunal, that wouldn’t have been crazy at all.

Not that she’d noticed me; the scant eye contact she’d yielded so far had been reserved for Lou. Fixed on him the way you look at your father when trying to explain a dent in the car.

He said, “Dr. Delaware is a child psychologist—”

“He’s going to help me keep Ovid.”

“No one’s suggesting you shouldn’t keep Ovid, Zelda.”

“Well,” she said. “You know...”

Lou turned to me. I said, “Dr. Sherman has asked me to get to know Ovid so if you need help with him, I can provide it.”

Still avoiding me, Zelda Chase said, “Ovid is perfect.”

Lou said, “And you, dear? How’re you doing?”

“Ovid is perfect.”

“I’m sure he is but we need to document that, so Dr. Delaware will be spending time with Ovid and reporting to me.”

Zelda Chase studied me for the first time since I’d entered the office. My smile elicited a blink and a tremble. “He seems... you seem okay, Dr. Delaware... thank you, Dr. Lou. I know I messed up with Lowell but he asked for it, don’t forget that — anyway, my baby deserves to be taken care of by his mom and he will be, no matter what.”

“That’s what we’re all here to accomplish, Zelda. Meanwhile, of course, you’ll stay away from Lowell.”

“Oh, yes, that’s all past.” She sucked in breath. “I’m a good mom, Dr. Lou, you know that. But maybe I’m also a bad mom.” Hugging herself, she threw up her arms and let them drop hard. “I don’t deserve the messiah.” Crooked smile. “I don’t mean Jesus, don’t worry, I’m not that nuts. I mean my personal savior. He saved me from loneliness.”

I said, “Ovid.”

“Ovie saved me by making me a mom.” Her face crumpled. “But maybe not such a good mom... oh, wow, I screwed up!”

Lou took her hands. “Zelda, this isn’t the time for negative thinking.”

“No? Then when is the time? I screwed up ! They’re going to take him from me!”

She began crying. Lou patted her shoulder and handed her a tissue. The same quick-draw sequence I’d performed so many times.

Zelda Chase’s hand faltered around the gauzy paper and it floated to the carpet. Lou retrieved it and tossed it in the trash, handed her a replacement, pressed her fingers around it, made sure she held on. Her hand clenched, wadding the tissue but not releasing as she dabbed her eyes. Lou selected a third tissue and wiped away tears she’d missed.

Her free hand took hold of his wrist. Bending low, she rested her head on his forearm. Hair streamed, blocking her face. The sound of her breathing was slow and steady. “Don’t let them take him, Dr. Lou.”

“Of course not, Zelda.” Lou let her remain that way for a moment before easing away. Placed his finger under her chin and gently raised her face so that their eyes met.

Like a plastic doll, she allowed herself to be molded. A stream of fresh drool trailed down her chin. Tissue number four.

Lou said, “Zelda, I want you to concentrate on getting better without having to worry about Ovid. That’s why Dr. Delaware’s here. He’s the premier child psychologist in town. You’ll be able to rest assured and take care of yourself and you and Ovid will stay together.”

Zelda Chase said, “If you say so, Dr. Lou... you’re always right... but I’ll worry, anyway, you know me, I worry, I always do.” Another wry smile. “Immaculate conception has its own challenges, right, Dr. Lou?”

He stared at her.

Zelda Chase laughed. “Just kid- ding, guys. I’m not crazy or anything!”

Lou’s smile was tight. “Zelda, I’m glad you’re able to joke but it’s important that you take this seriously—”

“Oh, you... so see- rious.” Wink. Tongue flick. Bosom-heaving sigh. Hair flip.

Lou didn’t respond.

Zelda Chase laughed. “Fine, I get it, be normal.” Then she cried some more, accepted tissue number five with a steady hand and wiped enthusiastically. But frowned as she inspected the paper. “I put crud on it.”