III.

Davie said, “So that’s when I decided I wasn’t gonna ever talk to my mom again, you know, not unless it was totally necessary.” He picked at crayon wax on the table.

“Well, you just have to think about the future and whether you’re going to need your mother. Guys like us, guys who are in and out of here, we need any support we can get,” Phil said.

“Guys like us? Like who? Me and you? Grant?”

“Yeah, maybe Grant.”

“Grant is such a fucking psycho!”

Phil shook his head. “No he’s not.”

Davie shrugged. “Whatever.” He put a crayon in his mouth, letting it hang between his lips like a cigarette. “But what about your father? I heard some stories about him……”

Phil frowned and looked down at the table. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Heh, yeah. I heard he’s real fucked up,” Davie said, giggling. “Probably more fucked up than my mom. So how do you feel about that? I mean, being more fucked up than me? You know that, right? That you’re more fucked up than me? Everyone knows it. I may be all loud and shit but people look at you and they know you’re a fucking psycho.”

Phil rolled his eyes. Now he understood Grant’s anger whenever Davie came around. Mental illness aside, the guy was an asshole. He was also on about four different meds. Phil couldn’t even remember them all. Molochiana. Baalozam. Melqarta. Decetoium. Or was it Uduhul? Shit, who could keep track?

Davie leaned in close. “You getting pissed at me or something? You gonna spazz out like your buddy there? I’ll tell you something about Grant. He’s someone you have to watch. You know, like your dad. So tell me about him. Your dad. Come on.”

“Minnesota, Minnesota, Minnesota,” Phil said. “Please, Davie, just leave me alone.”

“Leave you alone? That’s a good one. This isn’t real life, man. Look where we are. This might as well be a fucking dream. None of the shit we do in here has any real world consequences. Stop acting like your guarding some big important secrets. Fuck that. It doesn’t matter, especially not here. So tell me about your fucking dad.”

Phil was speechless. It wasn’t that Davie was convincing him of anything. The guy was a rambler. He just liked to ramble and if you actually looked to gain anything by it, you’d sure be in for a pointless quest. No, Phil felt at a loss for words because never in a million years did he think his depression would bring him to the point of being harassed into talking about his father.

“Just quit it.”

“Stop being a baby,” Davie said. He flicked wax at Phil. “Look at you. You’re spazzing out like crazy. Just tell me about your dad.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Oh yeah? Really? I heard he’s been in the visitor’s wing for three weeks waiting for you to go talk to him. Why is that? Why won’t you talk to him?”
Phil shook his head. “Davie, for real, just shut up.”

“Don’t you know that most of the time when I ask a question, I already know the answer? You don’t think I already know all about your little father issues?”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up!”

Davie snorted. He threw Phil a grin that revealed all his bright porcelain teeth. “I guess they’re big father issues, eh?”

Phil put his hands on the table and stood up. Before he could walk away, Davie grabbed his wrist tightly.

“Where’re you going? You gonna tell on me?” Davie let go of Phil’s wrist. Why don’t you go tell your daddy I’m picking on you? He gonna spank me? Bet you’d want to watch that, huh, psycho?”

Before he could convince himself to do otherwise, Phil found his fists flying at Davie’s face. He connected twice and felt the jawbone tear the skin on his knuckles. A fist answered his attack and knocked him right in the nose. Phil fell back on his ass and Davie jumped on top of him.

Davie threw punches for a minute and then stopped abruptly when he heard the orderlies come through the door. “I guess I’ll have to tell on you, then. Maybe I’ll tell your daddy. He’s in on of the visitor’s rooms, right? Which one? Oersted or Crocidura?

Phil didn’t answer.

“Oh well, I guess I’ll figure it out. Of course, I hate to be the bringer of bad news but he should know his son is a violent psycho.”

Phil turned his head and spat blood. He wanted to say something back to Davie but knew whatever he said would come out sounding pathetic. Besides, he didn’t want to make matters worse. No doubt the cameras recorded the fact that he was the one who threw the first punch. The doctors wouldn’t necessarily care if Davie instigated the whole thing. All they cared about was control and rehabilitation in a safe and productive environment.

Yeah right.

Phil closed his eyes and looked at his forehead. His third eye exploded and forced him to blackout.