Phyllis Mathis is a writer, a psychotherapist, and a life coach, living and working in Arvada, CO. Her novel is entitled Cold Counsel. Check out her website: Resonance: your life, in tune.
Read earlier chapters of Cold Counsel here
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Chapter 19
To be or not to be? That is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler to let the little bastard live or to send him on his way.
My, my, what shall we do?
Hmmm…If I’m gonna do some soul searching I’d better have a cigarette…
Ah, yes. Better.
I have to say it was impressive watching Tracy do her thing in that hospital room. Not that she could have done it without Susan…
But still, standing there looking at him, doing her soul business. It’s like she was duking it out with the guy just by standing there breathing. Didn’t say a word, but she was fighting, you could see it in her face. Winning some unseen battle. I guess it’s true what Susan says, once you let someone take up residence in your head, it’s hard to kick ‘em out.
She looked like she was doing some major ass kicking. I could feel the power shift in the room.
Very impressive. Inspiring.
Susan, on the other hand, is a basket case. Jeez, she’s fragile…Almost lost her a couple of times tonight.
If I’d known the little bastard was gonna give us this much trouble I’d have done things differently.
Maybe the bat was too much. Too much muscle memory. Too much excitement.
Maybe we could use a little less drama next time.
Or maybe the combination of the bat and the guy and the ICU was just too much. Too many things for poor Susan to manage.
How about this for next time: make sure the guy doesn’t end up in Fairview Hospital, in the same room as dad for God’s sake.
Didn’t see that coming.
Shoulda just shot him with his own pistol. Then we wouldn’t have to deal with the left-overs. And that’s just what we have here, isn’t it? Leftovers from a futile object lesson.
How to dispose of them – him, I mean.
Susan would definitely not approve. If it were up to her she’d walk with Tracy all the way through the trial and the verdict and the sentencing. Let the guy feel the full weight of the law. Let Tracy see them put him away. She as much as said that tonight after the show down.
Always the conscientious therapist.
Well, maybe we just can’t afford to play by Susan’s rules anymore. She’s played by the rules all her life and where did it get us? Besides, she doesn’t really know what’s good for her now does she? Always looking out for everybody else. What’s good for them. Never a thought for what she herself needs.
No, I think it’s time for Psycho Boy to meet his maker. For Susan’s sake.
And I know just the thing…
Let’s see if I can find that box of dad’s old medications…I’m sure we have some somewhere…yes. Here it is.
Insulin. What a hassle dad used to have to put up with. All those little shots. And for what? His pancreas never had a chance.
Insulin. Deadly in large doses. Easily injected into the tubing. Probably not included in any post-mortem tox screens.
I guess this means I’ve officially gone over to the dark side.
It’s about time.
story by phyllis mathis, all rights reserved
September 17, 2010 at 6:08 pm
Life has rules?
But yes, once you let someone take up residence in your stupid brain, it is SO hard to kick them out.
Never toss out old medications. They foul up the drinking water.
I guess those are two rules of life, huh?
(Do we ever get to learn what happened to Susan?)
December 29, 2010 at 6:37 pm
Okay, dammit. I know you are very busy, but I want to know how this thing ends (and a little prequel of how Susan ended up in this fix would also be nice). So my New Year’s resolution is for you to finish your book.
I do so love you. Happy 2011, Phyllis.
Kerry