Читать книгу Klick, the Dick - Milam Smith - Страница 10

It was all Rivkin could do not to yawn.

“Did you feel guilty about what you were feeling about this Beth?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Thinking about her, Beth, then bam, divorce papers. I could imagine Life, if Life was an entity, giggling. I was sick with fear about losing my wife, but thinking about Beth at the same time, like ‘well at least I have something to fall back on.’ But mostly I was feeling empty. The guilt was there, like the inevitable sunset. But the emptiness was like high noon in a heatwave, beating down on me.’

“Did you experience any shortness of breath?”

“Look, Doc. The wind wasn’t just knocked out of my sails, the sails were blown away completely. Of course there was shortness of breath, but it wasn’t the advent of a nervous breakdown. I’ve had a couple of those. This was close, but different, too.”

“Have you been diagnosed as having nervous breakdowns before?”

“Look, I know this may sound insulting, but I can read. At the time I had a couple of breakdowns before, I didn’t know what I was going through. But I happened to be reading a ‘phyc’ book in a library once, and I recognized the symptoms.”

Rivkin actually smiled. He wasn’t insulted. He was of the opinion that given the opportunity most people could do anything—if they could read.

“Any anger?” he asked.

“Yeah, after the wave of guilt. I’ll tell you about that in a moment. But see, what happened, getting the divorce papers, just confused me more, made me doubt my morals. Like, what the hell’s the matter with me? I was struck by Beth and the way I felt about her, but the thought of cheating on my wife never occurred to me. Am I the only one that won’t cheat on a mate?

“I don’t see why you’re questioning your morals. A lot of people besides yourself have high standards and live by them, too. The actions of your wife was beyond your control anyway—-”

“But they shouldn’t have been. I should’ve seen it coming and taken action.”

“Ah, so you’re a man of action? As if doing something will solve any problem.”

“Well, hell, won’t it?”

“Usually not, as a matter of fact.”

“Then is that my problem?”

“Mmmm.”

“Mmm what? Come on, Doc. Don’t do that stuff to me. All you shrinks are the same. You—”

“Mr. Klick, I thought you said you had never been to a psyciatrist before?”

“Well, I fudged a little on that. I’ve seen a couple. Once in the Army. And another time after that, when I was a cop. Situations where I had to go”

“How man times did you see them?”

“The one in the Army three times. The other one twice.”

“Hmmm.”

“C’mon, Doc. Ya’ll just sit there and go ‘Hmm’ all the time and never tell a person nothin’. You ain’t said anything either.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stop? I really would like to hear the end of your story”—but more than that he’d rather be heading out to the nightclub. Still, this Klick was interesting…for a sociopathic peronsality disorder client. If cogent, they told the most fascinating tales.

“For half price,” Clyde said.

“Ha hmmm. I suppose that was a joke? No, no discount. But I will tell you what may be causing you to ‘screw up’ your life. Give you some advise. But mostly the only person that can—”

“—Help you is yourself. Yeah, I’ve heard that before. And yeah, I knew that. But I’ve done that too, helped myself, picked myself back up a half-dozen times. Let me tell you Doc, that doesn’t work. I mean it’s like a bandaid or something. Then when I look under the bandaid the sore splits open.”

“That’s a good metaphor for it.”

“Good what?”

“Never mind So what happened next?”

“Doc, things just don’t happen neatly for me. Something else kind of nuzzled into the picture before anything happened with my wife. I mean, for the rest of the day things seemed to speed up. Right off the bat, while I was trying to reach my wife on the phone, I got a new client….”