The Incident

He smiled that mirthless sneer of his, like a sociopath. 

"It would not do to have it go out raw," he told me. Leering. 

"I suppose not," I said, for something to say. 

We were discussing the Incident, one of many Hess handled. It was only history, he said sometimes, compiled by an historian. 

Why was he talking to me, a reporter, and not even the dreamer, just the assumed first-person part of the story? It was because he and Kaufman thought I was from Medical Records when I had only been cleared by them to come here. Perhaps they had not been wise to trust Hess after all. This was turning into another incident. 

Kaufman is at the glass now, glaring at the attendant who sat by Hess. 

"Roberts!"

The attendant startled out of a reverie. Blanched. 

"Did you perform the litigalatonomy as I ordered?" an involuntary flutter of one hand gave answer. Kaufman punched the button on the counter. There was a thick glass webbed with wire from his waist upwards. He looked to his right, fuming. "Will someone open this gate?" His voice was growing louder by the minute. 

He turned back to Roberts and said, quite calmly now. "All we want is the control of your very being."

Roberts was shaking quite visibly now. 

I go to the logbook. It's up on the counter, unattended at the moment. I draw in a blank of an open form the letter 'E' but I draw it backwards.

The lady is very nice and conventional. We are in her den. She is discussing Fluffy, which is the name of her proverbial little poodle. She has named it Fluffy. 

Her "roommate" did not like Fluffy at first. They had some battles, she tells me. Oh, the drama. Wait, where is Fluffy?

She hurries out before I can ask her what I came to ask her, which is about The Incident. Supoosedly, she was one of the nurses during the occasion. I have been very patient about Fluffy.

I go out. In one of the dark corridors, I see who must be Fluffy. A stranger lady is approaching her from behind the dwelling where I have been visiting. She stoops and scoops up Fluffy. I see now my interview subject approach them gingerly. The stranger very delicately, deliberately offers the little pup to the nurse.

Back to the dark corridor before the registry desk for Medical Records, I am anxious to find Kaufman and Hess, and here they come down the roadway from a dark garage. I hurry over on the walk to intercept them, and Hess at the wheel of a sort of golf cart stops while passing out on the road as he sees me, backs in a huge circle to the curb right before me, and gives me that leer of his. Kaufman is staring glumly straight ahead.