Fredric Stern - The Endorphin Conspiracy

Geoff stared in disbelief. Fucking Dumbrowski. The Texas Ranger.

The Hasid let go of the Uzi, and Geoff grabbed it. The man lunged at Dumbrowski. “Send me to my maker!”

“Hold it right there, Goddamnit! I said freeze!” Dumbrowski had no choice but to fire his service revolver.

The man’s body jerked backward spasmodically with each shot. Blood frothed from the corner of his mouth as he slumped to the floor of the subway car.

“A Hasidic Jew, can you believe it?” Geoff stepped out of the shower at Stefan’s apartment in SoHo, exhausted and still astounded by the evening’s events.

“Not just any Hasidic Jew, Geoff.” Stefan raised his voice enough for Geoff to hear him on the other side of the bathroom door. “The crazy man who blew away that poor black kid and almost killed you was a rabbi . Samuel Levinow was a prominent leader in the Hasidic community.”

Geoff put on a pair of surgical scrubs, entered the living room. Stefan handed him a tall glass of ice water. “How did you find that out so quickly?” he asked. He drank half a glass of water, set the glass down on the coffee table.

“I heard about it on the news just before you came. I was worried sick about you.” Stefan removed a Kleenex from his pocket, wiped his forehead, adjusted his wire-framed specs. He sat down on the couch next to Geoff. “I called the hospital, and Karen Choy told me you had left hours ago. Then the news bulletin came on TV. I knew you were involved in some way. I called the police. They told me you were there giving a statement.”

“A statement? Is that what they told you?” Geoff shook his head with annoyance. “It was more like an interrogation. I was beginning to wonder who the criminal was.”

Stefan looked Geoff squarely in the eyes. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters now.”

The two brothers were remarkably different. They had grown closer after their father’s death several years before, first by necessity, then by mutual desire. Geoff—handsome, successful, Rhodes scholar, ex-Navy Seal. Mister perfect, his brother called him. Stefan—brilliant, albeit eccentric, computer whiz, M.I.T. drop-out. Bill Gates with a pony tail.

Stefan had been his mother’s favorite—she had died while they were in college—in spite of his sexual orientation. Ostracized by his surgeon father, whose paternal focus had been on Geoff’s medical career, Geoff had tried to fill the void, acting as much as a father to Stefan as a big brother. With both their parents and Sarah gone, Stefan was the only immediate family Geoff had left.

Geoff stared off into space, shook his head. “I just don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?”

“The guy seemed normal when he sat down next to me. He even tried to strike up a conversation. Now you tell me he was a rabbi? The last kind of person in the world I’d expect to do something violent or crazy.”

“You said he was taunted by that black kid playing the loud music,” Stefan said. “Maybe he was mugged in the subway once before and felt as though his life was in danger. The old fed-up-citizen-transforms-into-subway-avenger story.”

“It’s not normal for a rabbi to carry a machine gun in his briefcase for protection. Besides, in another minute and he would have blown us all away. The man was crazy. He simply snapped. I saw it in his eyes.” Geoff leaned forward, reached for the glass of water, downed the remainder.

“Does it really matter why the man went nuts, Geoff? It’s over, and you’re alive to talk about it.”

Geoff took a deep breath, rubbed his temples. “I guess you’re right,” he said.

Stefan patted Geoff on the leg. “Look at you. You’re exhausted. Let me put you to bed. You have rounds in five hours.” He stood, walked to the linen closet, removed a blanket and a pillow, set them down on the coffee table. Stefan pulled Geoff up off the couch, and they opened the bed. Stefan unfolded the blanket, fluffed the pillow.

Geoff collapsed onto the couch. “This has been a very strange day,” he said. “I haven’t even told you about how things went at the Trauma Center, especially the odd e-mail message I received. I need you to look at it. I don’t know where to begin.” His lids were now at half mast.

“You can tell me all about it in the morning. Now get some rest.” Stefan stood, turned out the light, left the room.

Sleep ignited dreams so vivid and powerful, Geoff’s heart began to race fiercely, his breathing becoming labored. Sunday afternoon at Central Park Zoo. The sun’s rays bathed Geoff and little Jessica with warmth and brightness. They were sitting on a grassy field playing games, having a picnic lunch. Jessica’s favorite, peanut butter and honey on white bread, crust removed.

The sky turned black and an ominous, dark funnel appeared on the horizon. The wind blew fiercely as the twister wound its way toward them. Adrenalin surged, and Geoff reacted instinctively. He threw their lunch into the basket and swept Jessica up into his arms all in one motion, then ran for the safety of the Penguin House at the north end of the zoo’s esplanade.

As he neared the fountain at the center of the walkway, a wave of panic spread over him: Jessica was gone. He dropped the basket. No Jessica. How could it be? A moment ago she had been securely tucked under his right arm.

He looked around frantically. The zoo was deserted.

Geoff broke out in a cold sweat. She was missing. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled her name at the top of his lungs, but gusty wind drowned out the sound of his voice. Geoff spied a phone by the lamppost.

The police, damn it, call the police!

A sweet, little voice echoed downwind. “Dr. Davis, Dr. Davis. Where are you”?

Geoff’s attention focused in the direction from which the voice seemed to come. He looked toward the Penguin House. No one. He looked all around. Deserted. “Jessica, I can’t see where you are. Call me again.”

“I’m in here. With the penguins,” she cried. “There’s a man in here, too.”

Geoff’s nerves were raw. He began to sweat profusely. A man. His dread worsened. Was she being molested? He ran towards the Penguin House. “I’m coming, Jessica. Hold on.”

A figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. A large man wearing a Parks Department uniform, a bomb strapped to his body, stood clutching Jessica in his arms.

Geoff stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at Jessica. She was smiling peacefully.

“It’s okay, Dr. Davis. This nice man found me.”

Geoff’s gaze shifted to the kidnapper’s face. It was a peculiar face, not like any he had ever seen. At first Geoff did not realize what was so strange about the man, then it suddenly became evident. His skull was as transparent as glass. Contained within, Geoff could see the psychedelic convolutions of the man’s brain, its vivid colors radiating through his transparent skull. His brain was like a living PET scan, the outer shell emitting a royal blue, the deeper zones emerald green and chartreuse, all mapping out the man’s endorphin receptors. At least his pattern appeared normal, Geoff thought with some relief. In his fascination, Geoff momentarily forgot about Jessica.

Then Geoff saw something, and a state of total fear overwhelmed him. Deep at the base of the man’s temporal lobes, an area of searing vermilion the shape of a horseshoe pulsated brilliantly, like the core of an uncontrolled nuclear reactor about to go into meltdown. The man’s limbic area was saturated with endorphins. He was schizophrenic. There’d be no reasoning with him. Geoff looked at Jessica, who continued to smile, as if to reassure him everything would turn out all right.

Trying not to make any sudden moves, Geoff approached.