Frank Klus - Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

“Thank you, Dennis, and don’t forget to keep this just between us.”

Sandy was deep in thought, and then she began frowning. Oh my God .

Doc Grifton was at the Mercy Psychiatric Institute. His mind was deteriorating. The hospital chief was a man named Schmidt. When Commandant Jaydan Casimir told him he needed to talk to Grifton, Schmidt thought it might help.

“Thank you for letting me see him, doctor,” Casimir said.

“I hope you can be of some help,” Schmidt said through his rather thick German accent. “His mind has been deteriorating since the accident.”

“Accident? Hell I’d call it attempted murder.”

“At any rate, Commandant, since the attempted murder he continued to relive the pain-induced incident. He doesn’t sleep without a sedative, and when he does sleep he wakes up in a cold sweat, or screaming.”

“Is that when he was brought here?”

“He checked himself in voluntarily. We brought him to Mercy Hospital for an fMRI. It showed neurological damage which appears to be spreading.”

“From that brain probe?”

“Exactly!”

“How is that possible? It’s not supposed to have any effect on the brain. Wasn’t it Doc Grifton who invented it?”

“I worked on it as well. It does no physical damage to the brain, but it most certainly affects the neurons. The reason why patients come out of there much better than before is because of the expertise of trained doctors and the technicians who set up the machine.

“Let me explain. When a patient is first brought in for treatment, the first step is to map the brain. This is necessary in the adjustment of the probe settings. The brain probe has two functions. Most people believe it’s just used as punishment, but that’s wrong. It is not meant to be used to induce pain as punishment. It is used first, to break up certain neuron connections that aid the patient in losing whatever malady we’re trying to cure him of. Secondly, it prepares the patient for the cure that follows.”

“Why does the probe cause so much pain?”

“It’s because of the electromagnetism of the brain probe. Moving the neurons around induces a certain amount of pain. Some people described it as a boring in or out of the brain, while others describe it as rats trying to claw their way out. It’s an unfortunate side effect, but we can remove their memory of it.”

“Okay, but what do you mean by ‘moving neurons around’?”

“Of course, what I’m saying is a bit simplistic, but essentially I’m talking about creating new neuron connections, and breaking off old ones. The purpose of it is to change the person. You can change their personality, character, and memories. You can erase memories and certain behaviors simply by breaking the neuron connections. Furthermore, you can create new behaviors, personality traits, or character traits simply by creating new neuron pathways.

“Grifton’s genius was his ability to map the brain by getting the patient to exhibit their traits to see where in the brain these neuron pathways were, and then breaking them. Through dozens of treatments he was able to know where to make the new connections. He could then erase the memories of the entire treatment. The patient thinks he’s the same person as always; whatever we want him or her to be.”

“You can see where the neuron connections are that need to be broken or reconnected?”

“Well, sort of. With Dr. Grifton’s machine he can get rather precise locations of the affected neuron connections. Then it’s a matter of trial and error. That’s why there are so many treatments.”

“And there’s no way the old memories come back?”

“How can there be? Those connections are gone.”

“There’s still one thing I don’t understand. If the brain probe merely changes one’s memories and the other stuff, why is Grifton’s brain deteriorating?”

“Because Menendez didn’t know how to use the machine, and was only interested in inflicting pain. He used the highest settings, and just moved the probe around so as to inflict as much pain as possible. It caused physical damage—not just neuron changes, but he may have destroyed his brain.”

“Can he be cured?”

“If we can stop the spreading deterioration the brain could heal itself. It wouldn’t be unheard of, but the prognosis is not good.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I think I’ll see Grifton now.”

They walked down the hall to Grifton’s room.

“Fred.” Grifton looked up. “Do you remember Commandant Casimir of the Lightning Squad?”

Grifton looked over to the Commandant. He had a curious look on his face but said nothing. Schmidt excused himself and left Casimir with him.

“Dr. Grifton, do you remember when I talked to you about Sandra Menendez?”

There was still no reaction from him.

“You treated her, convinced her to divorce her husband, Fernando Menendez, and to fall in love with me. Do you remember?”

Grifton struggled with his words. He finally blurted out a quick, “yes.”

“She’s been having nightmares and I think she’s starting to remember. She keeps shouting ‘Fernando.’ I was giving her sedatives, but she was still having dreams of her former life. She woke me up the other night kicking and murmuring. Then she called the warden at Joliet. What should I do?”

“Impossible! Impossible! Neuron connections severed. Impossible!”

“Schmidt says the same thing, but she’s shouting Menendez’s name in her sleep. What do you make of that?”

“I told Menendez this wasn’t a toy. He wouldn’t listen,” Grifton said in a gruff tone. “The probe is a delicate instrument. You have to use it just right, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Grifton, I’m talking about my wife.”

“I tried to tell him to reduce the settings, at least.” Grifton sounded panicky as he looked up to Casimir. “I said, ‘see that dial behind you’, then he just jabbed my head with the probe. He was happy about it, too. He just jabbed and jabbed and jabbed.”

“Grifton! What about my wife? What about Sandy? We’re talking about Sandy. She’s starting to remember, and don’t tell me about impossible. She’s calling out that bum’s name.”

“I don’t know how many times it was. It was just over and over and….”

Casimir began to leave when Grifton shouted, “Sedratol.” Casimir turned around and stared at Grifton, but Grifton began rambling on again.

“Dr. Schmidt,” Casimir said, sitting down across from Schmidt’s desk. “Grifton wasn’t much help. As soon as I mentioned ‘Fernando’ he started reliving that day Menendez stuck the probe on his head. Look, Schmidt, Sandy’s shouting ‘Fernando’ in her sleep, and she’s reliving the treatment. He says this is impossible and you say it is impossible, but I’m telling you, Schmidt, she’s reliving those treatments. She wakes me up shouting Fernando’s name. What’s happening, and what can I do about it?”

Schmidt knew Casimir was no one to patronize. He appeared shocked by this revelation. “I don’t understand how this can happen. Oh, maybe from some other doctor who didn’t apply the treatment correctly, but from Dr. Grifton?” He hesitated and looked at Casimir, who just stared back at Schmidt. “Nevertheless, if you say this is happening, it must be.”

“Doc, please forgive me for raising my voice, but this is terrible. Can I bring her in? Can you help her?”

“I don’t know if I can. Bringing her in may only make things worse. I’d have to use the brain probe machine.”

“Oh, no! You’re not going to do that to her again. You have to do something else.”