Frank Klus - Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

“I understand, Jay. Don’t worry, sir. We’ll find her.”

Thirty Hours Earlier:

Sandy woke up around two in the morning and heard Jaydan snoring. She climbed out of bed as quietly as she could, tiptoed over to where her husband hung his pants up, and fished around for his keys. She removed them as quietly as possible and grabbed her phone from the dresser; then tiptoed downstairs, and into the den. She found the key that opened the desk drawers, and searched.

She wasn’t sure she knew what to look for, but she was certain she would know it if she saw it. After several minutes she found a letter from Mercy Psychiatric Institute with a reference to Operation Brain Probe. There was a name on it: Dr. Johann Schmidt, Chief Executive Officer of Mercy Psychiatric Institute. There was another reference to Frederick Grifton, Chief of Psychiatry.

She took a picture of the letter with her phone, and then, a few minutes later, she found another letter from the Institute. She read it verbatim.

Dear Dr. Schmidt:

The equipment and training my client, Horace Hayfield, received have resulted in unusual outcomes among his clientele. Such outcomes have resulted in a growing list of complaints concerning the defective service they have received. As a result, we are demanding the return of one million dollars for the purchase of the defective equipment and eleven million dollars to cover legal costs associated with the use of said equipment. We will, of course, return such equipment to you. Should you not comply with our request, we will have no other recourse but to take you to court. I am looking forward to your response in a timely manner.

Yours,

F. Thomas Taylor

F. Thomas Taylor

Attorney-at-Law

Sandy took a picture of the document. She continued the search. Then she found another letter addressed to her husband, and read it.

Dear Commandant Jaydan Casimir:

At your request, we have dismissed charges against Sandra Menendez for embezzlement. She will be released at twelve noon on Wednesday, June 13.

Yours Truly,

H.P. Wilcox

H.P. Wilcox

Warden, Joliet Prison

Once again, Sandy took a picture of the document, and searched some more. From the same file folder she found an even more shocking letter.

Dear Commandant Jaydan Casimir:

We are pleased to report to you that Fernando Menendez has signed the divorce papers that Sandra Menendez served on her husband. The signing was at the urging of Sandra Menendez herself. Judge Brier Thompson has accepted the papers, and announced the marriage dissolved. You are now free to take Miss Sandra Montgomery as your wife. Congratulations, sir.

Yours Truly,

Hector Ortiz

Hector Ortiz

Attorney-at-Law

Sandy began crying as she took the picture.

She found several more letters similar to this. One was a letter from Dr. Grifton, informing Mr. Martinez that a brain probe treatment was successful. Other letters indicated various problems with the procedure.

There could be no doubt now in Sandy’s mind that she went through the brain probe treatment. Her memories of a good life with Fernando Menendez were erased from her mind, and replaced by false memories of falling in love with Jaydan Casimir, and agreeing to marry him. What do I do now ? Confront Jay or run away ?

She went back upstairs after she carefully replaced everything and relocked the drawers. She then replaced the keys in Jay’s pocket and climbed into bed.

“Where’d you go, dear?” Jay asked.

Sandy was startled. “I was having trouble sleeping and took the sedative you got for me.”

“What did you need my keys for?”

“What?”

“I heard a little jangling like keys.”

“It was just some change I found in the bathroom. I just put it in the change drawer.”

A couple hours later Jay woke up, worried, and walked downstairs into the study. He stood over the desk, looking down, and stared. He was frowning.

The next morning there was no mention of keys, and Jay went to work as usual. Sandy put the plan she came up with into action. She knew she had to work fast.

She took the bus to their bank and withdrew twenty-five thousand dollars, and then took another ten grand from her credit card. Then she took a cab to Mercy Psychiatric Institute, where she asked to see Dr. Schmidt.

“May I get your name please?” the secretary asked.

“My name is Sandra Casimir, the wife of Commandant Jaydan Casimir.”

The secretary called his boss.

“Go right in Mrs. Casimir.”

She knocked and entered Dr. Schmidt’s office.

“Hello, Mrs. Casimir. Please take a seat,” he said cheerfully. “What can I do for you?”

“Dr. Schmidt I’d like to know more about who I was?”

“Who you were?” Dr. Schmidt asked as if he was expecting the punchline.

“You know I went through the procedure, right?”

“Procedure, Mrs. Casimir?”

“Please don’t patronize me. About a month ago I started having strange dreams. Initially, they were nightmares of being in some sort of clinic with a lot of wires, something on my head, and a stick that caused enormous pain. One more thing—a name: Fernando.”

“Your husband told me about some strange dreams, but they are not that uncommon. Are you still taking the sedative I prescribed for you? You didn’t stop taking it did you?”

“I never did take it.”

“Mrs. Casimir—”

“Please don’t interrupt me. Allow me to continue.” She paused, and Casimir motioned for her to carry on.

“Thank you. What I was about to say was that I was beginning to have flashbacks.”

“Flashbacks, Mrs. Casimir? Could you explain?”

“It’s hard to explain. Something would flash in my mind. Maybe something in my dream I had forgotten. Anyway, I had this one flashback of a signature on some document that I know now was a divorce paper. The signature read ‘Fernando Menendez’. There appeared to be tear stains. I just remembered that now. Anyway, I had a last name and I did some research at the library and—”

“Why are you telling me this, Mrs. Casimir?”

“The treatment doesn’t work, and you know it,” she said sharply. “I’ve seen copies of letters in my husband’s desk. You’re being sued, right?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Casimir, but I’m not at liberty to discuss this, and, being rather busy, I’m afraid I’ll have to end this conversation.”

He got up to thank her for coming, but Sandy didn’t move. “Sit down, doctor. We have more to discuss.”

Dr. Schmidt was taken aback. Sandy was very serious, and she wasn’t about to move.

“Please, Mrs. Casimir. I cannot talk about this. My lawyer said so.” Still, Sandy refused to move.

“Sit, Doctor.”

Dr. Schmidt did so, and motioned for Sandy to continue.

“They’re going to shut down the Institute and arrest you. They’ll go after Dr. Grifton as well. You may not want to discuss this with me, but you must. You know I’m right.”

“Who do you mean by ‘they’, Mrs. Casimir?”

“The people who fund the project. I don’t know the specifics. I don’t know who they are, but I saw the name of someone who appeared to be behind this project. His name is Alberto Martinez.”

Dr. Schmidt went ashen, and a look of surprise came over his face, which he quickly tried to hide. Sandy took notice, and continued like a prosecutor.

“I believe the purpose is to change the behavior and character of people into whatever this Martinez guy wants. I believe they can change political dissidents, who are perceived as a danger to the nation, into good American Party enthusiasts.”