Spider Lake Read Free Page A

asleep in some strange random library.
    “Mr. Fisher, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”
    Both the room and the man were slowly coming into focus, as was Ben’s memory, and it suddenly dawned on him where he was. He wanted to close his eyes and go back to sleep.
    “Mr. Fisher, can you hear me?”
    “Yes, yes I can hear. I had a fall. The fish.”
    “Cathy, the towel please.”
    The doctor placed the wet towel on Ben’s forehead. Ben instinctively reached back with his right hand to where the pain was, and noticed that his head was wrapped in a gauze bandage. When he touched the injured place, he felt a sharp pain. He winced.
    “Mr. Fisher, you have had a fall. I am Doctor Levine. This is my receptionist Ms. Beck. Can you tell me, how many fingers am I holding up?”  
    Ben suddenly realized the gravity of his situation, and he knew he had better focus on the doctors fingers and give a proper reply before the men in white coats would show up and haul him to the happy factory. “Two. Two fingers. I’m sorry for having caused a commotion in your waiting room doctor, but the fish startled me and—”  
    “Mr. Fisher, if you please. Can you tell me where you are?”  
    Ben did not like the sound of that question. “Of course I know where I am! You shouldn’t have fish that blows up in front of your patients or none of this would have happened!”
    Ben was agitated and he was trying to lift himself into a sitting position. The wet towel fell into his lap. He wanted to run out of the building, but he knew that was impossible now. His head ached.
    “Mr. Fisher, the fall you took does not seem to have injured you badly. You have a small superficial wound which bled quite a bit as head wounds do, but it is my opinion and Ms. Beck’s that the fall and the bump may not have caused your blackout. I need you to answer each of my questions carefully so I can ascertain whether or not to send you down the hall for an MRI.”
    Ben thought to himself, “Now I am in for it. The good doctor thinks I should be institutionalized.”   He looked for the exits. He wondered why his lap was wet. Had he peed himself?   He looked down and noticed the wet towel and put it back in place on his forehead.
    “Mr. Fisher, can you tell me what day it is?”  
    Ben thought about the question: “Saturday.”  
    “Good Mr. Fisher. Now, can you tell me where you are specifically?”  
    Ben was still agitated but he knew his freedom depended on his playing along. He answered, “Yes Doctor Levine, I am in your office which is on Corporate Drive in the town of Vernon Hills, and I am here to see you at my wife’s urging about a recurring dream. Is that specific enough, or shall I give you your address as well, or maybe—”  
    The doctor cut him off again. “Okay Mr. Fisher, you have said enough. Why don’t you go into the washroom and freshen up, and then we can begin anew. Go collect yourself, and then you and I can talk.”
    As Ben was walking to the rest room adjoining the office, he thought about what he could say or do to get out of his appointment. His head was pulsing with pain. In the rest room, he looked for a possible escape route. There was no way out except the office. He splashed water on his face and collected himself. Exiting the rest room, he noticed that Dr. Levine had already sat down on a comfortable chair with notebook in hand, and glancing up, he gave Ben a friendly smile. It seemed as if nothing had happened. The nurse was gone.  
    “Come and sit down Ben. May I call you Ben? Come in and sit down and tell me why you are here.”
    Ben looked over at a bust of Sigmund Freud. He knew there would be one. No self-respecting shrink would have an office without a proper bust of Freud. He sat on the couch. “Doctor, I’m sorry for the disturbance in your waiting room.” Ben noticed, this time, that the doctor didn’t interrupt him. He just sat quietly and waited for Ben to continue.
    “Yes, okay call me