Ben Soul

Civil War history. He used this persona plus his dark good looks to hitchhike across the West to the City. Here Beauregard became a full-blown personality in his own right, and little Luis Cruz submerged in the safety of Beau’s subconscious.

  Juan never appeared until Beau’s hospitalization. Where Beau was all Southern charm and hokum, Juan Loosa was a stern, unhappy control freak, fiercely devoted to protecting Luis. After full discussions between myself as therapist, Beau, and Juan (Luis refused to participate), we determined to try electroshock therapy to assist in integrating all the personalities into one. I cautioned them the treatment was experimental and controversial, and Beau and Juan both signed the statement. We chose a date and time for the procedure.

  When the time came, I wished each personality, including the reclusive Luis, good luck, attached the electrodes to the body’s temples, and turned on the machine. Just as I was adjusting the voltage, the lightning struck. A surge of power crackled through the body’s brain in excess of the recommended dosage.

  The upshot was that Juan and Beau and Luis never integrated. The surge fried out Juan’s control over the other two personalities. One could not predict when one would greet the whimpering Luis, the aristocratic Beau, or the somber Juan. I conferred with specialists in several mental disciplines, and we concluded Luis/Beau/Juan was not dangerous, to themselves or others, but incapable of surviving on their own. I felt responsible for their condition, and determined to be their caretaker from that time.

  Office Romance

  Dr. Field greeted Beau, the personality who came in that day. He had said little more than the usual “hello and how are you” sentences when Juan emerged. Dr. Field knew at once that Juan had replaced Beau. Beau habitually wore an easy expression, one that suggested he was about to break into a smile or a laugh. Juan’s face was always serious, with his mouth set in a tight, straight line. Beau’s muscles flowed like silk scarves fluttering in the wind. Juan’s movements were like a clock, proceeding forward in measured jerks.

  “Good morning, Chester,” he said. Dr. Field frowned at him. He wished to discourage too much familiarity. He saw the hurt in Juan’s eyes. Juan had become more and more familiar over the last few sessions.

  “Juan,” Dr. Field said, “I must insist you recognize my professional position when wwe’re having a session.” He folded his hands under his chin.

  “Doctor,” Juan said, “I don’t think I’m your patient. Beau is. And maybe Luis. I’m not.” He stared intently at Dr. Field. “I’m your co-therapist in this. I’m your only hope of keeping Beau and Luis out of some institution where they’d rot.” Agitation trembled under the even surface of Juan’s voice.

  “And where you would rot as well?” Dr. Field was careful and controlled in his tone.

  “Yes. I admit my stake in keeping this body free.” Juan waved a hand at the far corner of the room.

  “Please address me as `Doctor’ then.” Dr. Field strove to put the right amount of severity and command in his voice. The effect was lost on Juan.

  “I don’t think of you as my doctor. You’re Beau’s doctor. He’s the sick one; he has the hallucinations, imagines himself living a hundred years in the past. I don’t have any illusions.”

  “You’re hardly human, if you have no illusions.” Still careful and controlled.

  “Oh? Our great Doctor has illusions? About what?” Juan almost sneered the words at Dr. Field.

  “1’m not the patient here.” Dr. Field allowed a touch of anger to tinge his tone.

  “Neither am I,” Juan stated flatly.

  They stared at each other for long moments, neither willing to yield to the other. Juan was the first to look away.

  “Damn it, Doc,” he said, irritation roughening his voice, “I don’t want to be just some clinical case to you. I have deeper feelings for you.”

  “Have I explained the dynamics of transference to you?”

  “Don’t psychobabble me! I’m a reasonably sane human being, who functions moderately well in the world I inhabit. Just because I share this body with two other people doesn’t make me the crazy one.” Dr. Field opened his mouth. Juan forestalled his comment with an upraised hand.

  “Let me go on, Doc. It’s time to get this out in the open. I want to be more than your friend. You know and I know Beau and Luis will neither one ever be able to live on their own. A little jolt of electricity’s made that impossible.” Juan ran his hand through his hair. “Lifetime care is what they need. I can take care of myself when I’m in charge, but every now and again, I have to give Beau his turn. Luis wants a turn someday, too. Meanwhile, this body’s not getting any younger. It has needs, too. Maintenance needs, if you know what I mean.” Juan looked at the frozen-faced doctor. Juan thought he looked like a wild creature mesmerized by headlights.

  “Damn it, Chester,” he exploded, “I’m proposing to you, man!”

  Dr. Field swallowed hard. “This is awkward,” he choked out. “I’m supposed to be professional enough to handle these situations.” He frowned at his desk. “I’ve had patients come on to me before;” he said, “not often, but a few women have made passes.” He sighed and looked out the window. Two pigeons pecked at some unseen tidbit on the windowsill.

  “What’s different for me, this time, is that I want to respond, not as a doctor, but as a man. I don’t know what to do about that.”

  Juan beamed. “What’s stopping us?”

  “Ethical propriety.”

  “I don’t think you’ve unduly influenced me, Chester.” Juan spoke quietly.

  “I need to consult some of my peers,” Dr. Field said.

  “To know if you’re in love?”

  “To know if I’m behaving properly or badly.” Dr. Field looked at Juan. “I’m going to terminate our session for today. I need time to sort myself out.”

  Dr. Field stood. Juan stood, too, and opened his arms to hug Dr. Field. Dr. Field sidestepped the hug. “Not now, Juan, not till I’ve sorted things. I don’t want to start something I can’t or won’t finish. Be patient, Juan.”

  Juan sighed. “Okay, Chester,” he said. “You’re the doctor, for now.” He left the room. Dr. Field turned back to the window to stare at the perpetually pecking pigeons.

  The Shrink Shrunken

  Dr. Chester Field lay back on the couch Dr. Amanda Tory provided her patients. He stared up at the ceiling, counting the dots in the soundproof panels. He kept losing his place and having to start over again. It was a valuable mental exercise Dr. Tory had assigned to him to keep him from rehearsing his problem over and over. Her secretary had called her away just as Dr. Field’s session with her was about to begin. Some emergency with another client. Dr. Field had almost drifted into sleep when Dr. Tory returned.

  “Sorry about the delay, Chester,” she said. Dr. Field jerked to full awareness.

  “I understand, Amanda,” he said. “I’ve just been resting my eyes and my mind while you were busy.” He sat up on the edge of the couch. Dr. Tory loomed over him. She was almost six feet tall. Her hair was black as shoe polish, and Dr. Field had wondered from time to time if that’s where the color came from. Her face was long and oval, with a point to her chin that gave her expression a certain severity. Her eyes, though, were soft and brown, and shed compassion and kindness on all she looked at. She took her seat in a large wing-backed chair upholstered in maroon leather.

  “Lie down, if you’d rather,” she said to Dr. Field; he did. “Tell me what’s bothering you,” she went on.

  “I have a patient who presents most uncommon symptoms,” Dr. Field began. “My patient is three personalities in one body. All the personalities are male.”

  “Have you considered electroshock therapy to help the personalities meld?”

  “I tried that, Amanda. Unfortunately, a power surge at just the wrong moment sent too much current into the temporal lobes. I think, now, the personalities will not meld. At l
east the literature discourages further electroshock therapy.” He sighed. “I’m beginning to doubt electroshock does much good for anyone.”

  “That’s an argument for a large symposium. We also need a lot more research, as well.”

  Chester went on. “I am responsible, of course. I insisted on the shock treatment. I feel myself obligated to provide for the patient’s care and well-being.”

  “Can the patient function in the regular world?” Amanda asked.

  “One personality, Beau, has functioned in the world after a fashion, and had done so for many years. He was, however, severely addicted to any narcotic or hallucinogenic substance he could get his hands on. That’s what bbrought him into the system. I don’t think his physical health would hold up very much longer if he were to return to the regular world he knows. Another personality, Juan, has only recently emerged, and has no saleable work skills.”

  “How did this patient make a living?”

  “The functional personality worked as a male prostitute. With the multiple diseases now rampant, he’s lucky to be out of that game.”

  “What about the third personality?”

  “Luis? I’ve met Luis only once. He refuses to emerge. He speaks only Spanish; he is permanently stuck at about fifteen years old, and seems to be simple-minded on top of that. So, you see, Amanda, this patient, or these patients, need a full-time caretaker.”

  “What institutions are you