The End of Sanity

The End of Sanity

Red car... Blue car... White car... White car... Is that leaves popping out on that pear tree by the road? I think it's a pear tree, hard to tell from here, I don't recall seeing a pear tree yesterday. Sunny and bright out, it's so nice. Black car... Truck... I'd love to go for a walk.

"Hey, Eddie, can I go for a walk?"

"No, it's the middle of winter, Henry, and colder than a witch's ass out there. It just looks warm. You've asked me the same thing twice this week all ready. Now, just look out the window and be quiet."

Eddie is a nice orderly. He does a good job and is a lot nicer than the other two. The other two are too... too... Well, they're just not nice. Sometimes Eddie will give me an extra banana at breakfast or extra ice cream. Things are changing; I actually know what I ate this morning. The waffles weren't very appetizing, but the fruit cup was real good. I remember making waffles before going to work. Work... I worked? What kind of work did I do? I think today is Thursday; I'll ask old Doc Fuddy-Duddy this afternoon.

"Hey, Eddie, is today Thursday?"

"No, Henry, it's Wednesday. Tomorrow is Thursday."

I haven't noticed it before, but this day room could sure use a coat of paint, and something besides beige. As a matter of fact, my room and the hall could use a coat also. Good, no one is at the window. This is the best place to stand. I can see the parking lot, the road and the drug store on the corner.

"Hey, Eddie, I see a robin... Who was that lady that brought me here last week in a white car?"

"That was your wife, and it was eight months ago. You should know that, Henry. And that's not a robin, it's a blackbird. Now, go on back to your spot and look out the window... And don't wonder off again."

Eight months ago? Is that when Doc Whiz-Bang-Fuddy-Duddy what's-his-name told that lady my brain had crashed, stress, work over load? What does he know about my brain anyway? I'm probably as normal as he is. And what is normal anyway? They said I was acting strange. What is strange?

"Hey, Eddie, precisely what does 'strange' mean?"

"Henry, did you say 'Precisely'? Haven't heard you use that one before.

"Come on, Eddie. Define 'strange' for me."

"Define" that's another new one. Okay, strange..., strange means 'odd', 'unusual', 'out of the ordinary' or something like that. Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, you know, just thinking."

Well, Henry, you keep thinking and let me read. I need to study for a test."

I would like to have been there for old Doc Fuddy-Duddy's dissertation. Now, I'll bet that was strange. Brain analyst my butt. After all, he's on the outside looking in. I'm the one that lives on the inside of my brain so I should know what's going on. And I live there all the time, twenty-four seven. He only looks in once a week for about an hour, and calls it therapy, bet it does him more good than it does me. He asks questions and I give answers and do all the talking. Shouldn't it be the other way around? If I have a problem, he should be the one talking and giving me some answers. All he does is ask 'How do you feel about this' or "How do you feel about that'. How do you feel about the Chinese? How do you feel about scratching your butt? How do you feel about inventing a device that could eradicate a planet...?

Eradicate a planet... Eradicate a planet? Where did that come from? Nothing like that has ever been on my brain before... that I remember. Eradicate a planet... Eradicate means erase, or remove, or destroy... And planet is the world. Eradicate a planet... I'll think more about all this tomorrow when I can get a better grip on things.

"Hey, Eddie, I've been thinking about something all week. Have you ever heard the term 'Eradicate a planet' before?

"You've been thinking all week? I hope that's a good thing."

"Yes, Eddie, thinking... 'Eradicate a planet' came into my brain. 'E'rad'I'cate-a-pla'net', I've never heard of that before, have you? Eradicate a planet scares me."

"You need to talk to Dr. Franklin about that one, Henry. I can't help you. Now eat your banana and go back to thinking. I've got some reading to do."

Sometimes Eddie is hard to talk to, almost as hard as Fuddy-Duddy. My curiosity is up. I need to get more information. Information... I know what information means, but where does it come from? There's no information in my room. I would have found it if there was and nothing in the day room. Ha, I need information on information. Now, that's a silly thought. I need to think about this a little more, maybe again after lunch. I'll try not to forget.

"Hey, Eddie."

"What's the matter now, Henry? You want another ice cream?"

"No ice cream, Eddie. I have a question. Where does information come from?"

"It comes from different places depending on what you're looking for. What are you looking for, Henry?"

"I don't exactly know... I was wandering what that... 'Eradicate a planet' thought I had last week was about."

"Something like that would probable come from books, scientific books. Now, you go back to thinking, I've got work to do."

Books... I hadn't thought about books. Old Dr. Fuddy-Duddy can tell me where to find books, or maybe Marilyn could bring me one. Marilyn... I'd forgotten Marilyn and hadn't thought about her in a while. I hope she's getting along okay. We never got along very well anyway. She said I worked too much. Worked where? I call and check-up on her and see how things are going at the lab. LAB... I worked in a lab, a big lab with lots of people. It just come to me, I worked in a lab. Now, that's something I didn't know before. But, I'll think more about the lab tonight after I go to bed. Right now, I'm going take a nap. It'll be supper time before long.

"Hey, Eddie, do you have any scientific books?"

"Not a one, Henry. We talked about that last week. I thought you'd give-up on that scientific stuff."

Working in a lab, what kind of work does one do in a lab? It must be scientific and complicated. Something about mathematics, I recall white boards full of formulas and equations. Did I put it there? I need to concentrate harder; it's coming back a little at the time. Is it the new medication or the sessions with Dr. Franklin, hard to tell? There, I can actually remember the Doc's name. Now, that is progress. If I get to a point where I remember everything, will they put me out? I've seen them put other people out. Pack-up all their stuff and send them away. I like it here and don't want to go anywhere. Eddie will make sure I stay if I ask him.

"Hey, Eddie, do you have a phone over there? I need to call my wife."

"What? What in the hell are you talking about, Henry? Call your wife, are you crazy? Forget I said that. Now, Henry, you know you can't call your wife, even if there was a phone here in the day room."

"I just want her to check on her and have her bring me some books from the lab."

"What is all this? You're talking more, thinking, wanting books to read, make phone calls. Old Doc Franklin must be a miracle worker."

More and more has been coming to me these past weeks. I think I can recall almost everything now, but how would I know. If I don't know all that I used to know, how would I know? I can't think about that any more, it's too confusing. I need to stop pacing and have Eddie page Dr. Franklin over the intercom, we need to talk. The lab worked to develop a top secret weapon for the navy. I was chief theoretic physicist on the project. The weapon was to be a beam that destroyed the binding energy that holds atoms together, the preverbal ray gun. Any material struck by the beam would instantly disintegrate reverting back to the most basic of all elements - one proton and one electron - hydrogen. The basic theory was good. That is, until the math was finished. Once initiated, the process wouldn't stop until every element on the earth, in the earth and above the earth was converted to hydrogen. Anyone wanting to create a weapon like that would have to be out of their mind. Insane...

"Hey, Eddie, it's time to feed Henry..." He was making such good progress, curious, something happened. It'll take a while to bring him back.

"You know, Doctor, he was talking more, and it made sense, and he wanted some books to read, and wanted to call his wife. Then, at the snap of a finger, he was out of it. Now he just sits in that wheelchair and stares into oblivion... Dr. Franklin, can a man go insane on purpose?"