Robert Wilson - Vortex

“I told Ariel the same thing,” Bose said. “In fact I called State to say we were submitting the paperwork. But there’s a problem. Your supervisor, Dr. Congreve, claims Orrin had a violent spell this afternoon. He assaulted an orderly, Congreve says.”

Sandra blinked. “Seriously? I didn’t hear anything about a violent incident. If Orrin assaulted anyone, it’s news to me.”

“It’s bullshit is what it is, ” Ariel said. “You talked to Orrin even a little, you’d know it’s bullshit. Orrin never assaulted nobody in his life. Can’t crush a bug without apologizing to it first.”

“The accusation may not be true,” Bose said, “but it makes it more difficult to release him.”

Sandra was still struggling with the idea. “Certainly it doesn’t sound like behavior I would expect from Orrin.” Though how well did she really know him, after a single interview and a follow-up conversation? “But what are you saying—that Congreve is lying? Why would he do that?”

“To keep Orrin locked up,” Ariel said.

“Yes, but why? We’re underfunded and overloaded as it is. Usually, if we can remand a patient to family, that’s a best-case outcome. Good for the patient, good for us. In fact it’s my impression Congreve was hired because the board of directors believed he would reduce the number of people going on State lists.” Ethically or not, she added silently.

“Maybe,” Ariel said, “you don’t know as much as you think you know about what goes on where you work.”

Bose cleared his throat. “Keep in mind that Sandra’s here to help us. She’s our best shot at getting Orrin a fair deal.”

“I’ll see what I can find out about this incident. I don’t know whether I can help, but I’ll do my best. Ms. Mather, would you mind if I asked you a couple of questions about Orrin? The more I know about his background, the easier it’ll be for me to move the case forward.”

“I told Officer Bose everything already.”

“But if you don’t mind repeating yourself? My interest in Orrin is a little different from Officer Bose’s.” Or a lot different. Clearly Sandra hadn’t yet taken the full measure of Jefferson Amrit Bose. “Has Orrin lived with you all his life?”

“Up till the day he got on the bus to Houston, yes.”

“You’re his sister—what about your parents?”

“Me and Orrin had different daddies and neither one of ’em stuck around. Mama was Danela Mather and she died when I was just sixteen. She looked after us as best as she could but she got distracted pretty easy. And she had trouble with drugs toward the end. Meth and the wrong men, if you know what I mean. After that it was only me there to take care of Orrin.”

“Did he need a lot of taking care of?”

“Yes and no. He never asked for much in the way of attention. Orrin was always happy to be by himself, looking at picture books or whatever. Even when he was little he didn’t cry much at all. But he was pretty useless at school and he cried plenty when Mama took him to class, so he just mostly stayed home. And he wasn’t good at feeding himself. You didn’t put food in front of him twice a day, he’d blink and go hungry. That’s just how he was.”

“Different from other children, in other words?”

“Different he surely was, but if you mean is he retarded I have to say no he is not. He can write letters and read words. He’s smart enough to hold a job if anybody’d hire him. He worked a night watchman job a while back in Raleigh—and here, too, Officer Bose tells me, until he got fired.”

“Does Orrin ever hear voices or see things that aren’t there?”

Ariel Mather crossed her arms and glared. “I already told you he’s not crazy. He just has a good imagination. That was obvious even when he was little, the way he’d make up stories about his toy animals or whatnot. Sometimes I’d find him staring at the TV when it wasn’t even turned on, like what he saw in that empty screen was just as interesting as any show on cable. Or at the sky, watching clouds go by. Windows on a rainy day, he liked to look at those. That don’t make him crazy, I don’t think.”

“I don’t think so either.”

“And what’s it matter? All’s you have to do is get him out of that place he’s locked up in.”

“The only way I can do that— if I can do that—is to convince my colleagues Orrin isn’t in danger of going back to the streets and getting hurt. What you’re telling me is helpful. Which I have to assume is why Officer Bose brought us together.” Sandra gave Bose another sidelong look. “You said Orrin was never aggressive?”

“Orrin’d run from an argument with his hands over his ears. He’s shy, not violent . It was always hard for him when Mama came home with a man. He hid out, mostly, times like that. Especially if there was any kind of disagreement or unpleasantness.”

“And I’m sorry I have to ask this, but was your mother ever aggressive toward Orrin?”

“She had her meth fits sometimes, especially toward the end. Some scenes. Nothing serious.”

“You mentioned that Orrin liked to tell stories. Does he ever write them down? Did he keep a journal?”

Ariel seemed surprised at the question. “No, nothing like that. His printing is neat but he don’t practice it much.”

“Did he have a girlfriend back in Raleigh?”

“He’s bashful around women, so no.”

“Did he worry about that? Resent it?”

Ariel Mather shrugged.

“Okay. Thank you for your patience, Ariel. I don’t believe Orrin needs to go into custodial care, and what you’ve said tends to confirm that.” Though it raised other questions, Sandra thought.

“You can get him out?”

“It’s not that simple. We’ll have to sort out whatever happened this afternoon that led Dr. Congreve to believe he’s violent—but I’ll do everything I can.” A thought occurred to her. “One more question. What was it that caused Orrin to leave Raleigh, and why did he come to Houston?”

Ariel hesitated. Her posture remained stiff as a spindle, as if her sense of dignity had settled into the knobs of her spine. “He has moods sometimes…”

“What kind of moods?”

“Well… most of the time Orrin seems young for his age, I guess you noticed that. Every once in a while, though, a mood takes him… and when Orrin’s in a mood he don’t seem young at all. He’ll give you a look like he sees right through you, make you think he’s older than the moon and the stars put together. Like a wind blows through him from somewhere far away. That’s what Mama used to say when Orrin was like that.”

“And does that have something to do with why he came to Houston?”

“The mood was on him at the time. I don’t know for sure he even meant to go to Texas in particular. He never said anything to me, just took the five hundred dollars I was saving toward a new car, took it from my dresser drawer when I was out at work. He asked our neighbor, Mrs. Bostick, to drive him to the bus station. He didn’t pack a bag or nothing. He wasn’t carrying nothing but an old pad of paper and a pen, Mrs. Bostick said. She guessed he was meeting somebody at the depot. Orrin didn’t deny it. But once she left him there he must’ve bought himself a ticket and got on an interstate bus. The mood was on him for some days before that, him all quiet and far-eyed.” She gave Sandra a calculating look. “I hope that don’t change your opinion of him.”

Complicates it, Sandra thought. But she shook her head: no.

Ariel Mather had arrived in town early this morning. Bose had helped her check her into a motel before their aborted visit to State, but she had barely had time to unpack her suitcase. She was tired, and she told Bose she wanted to get a decent night’s sleep. “But thank you for the dinner and all.”