Mary Magdalene and the Asylum Escapee
Nelson Lynch
Copyright 2011
ISBN 978-1-4657-3194-4
Cover: Microsoft Clip Art
The driver slowed the white van as he passed the town limits sign. The two men peered down the first side street. The van stopped. One man in a white coat jumped out. “He's around here somewhere. Our jobs are on the line if we don't nab him soon.”
“It's your fault he escaped. If you hadn't been so busy trying to make out with nurse Jane, he could never have made it out the back door unnoticed.”
My psychotherapist is as mad as a March Hare. She has this insane idea that I am a schizophrenic with multiple personalities. How simple can a person get? I actually have been doing research on her, watching her every move and keeping a detailed journal. I have this uncanny ability to sense a lunatic a mile away. I saw through her the first day.
She wanted me to mingle with people and above all, be especially polite. She said I have a tendency to be overbearing. But who believes what a crazy woman says.
I saw in the newspaper that there was a book signing at the Atlantic Hotel. The local author published a journal about her search for Noah's Ark on the Navaho Reservation in Arizona. I smiled to myself. She was my kind of woman.
I went out the back door, walked a mile to the highway and caught a bus to Main Street. A young woman stopped me at the entrance to the book signing area. “Are you an author or explorer?”
“Both.” I wrote Kit Carson on a label and stuck it to my jacket. “Where is the author? I 'd like to meet her.”
The woman glanced at her watch. “She should be here in ten minutes. Go on in, have a drink and talk with our other guests.”
I walked in keeping my eyes and ears open for crazy people. I can spot these people in a radius of twenty feet, especially at a party where alcohol is served. It makes no difference if they are talking to me or carrying on a conversation with someone else. There are certain key words that set off alarm bells: UFOs, Yeti, crop circles and global warming are just a few.
“He's not on this street.” The white-coated man climbed back into the van. “Let's try that pool hall. I think he likes to shoot pool.” The driver nodded and moved on.
I spotted a candidate. A short man with a shaved head had a nice looking woman hemmed in between a large sofa and a book case. When he mentioned UFOs, I automatically froze and held my breath. I want to find out if he was abducted and probed. Invariably those facts are true. In his case he was held for ten days against his will, forced to have sex with a beautiful little green woman and they left an 'out of this world' piece of metal in his body. He volunteered to show it to her but it was located in his nether regions. She broke free and trotted to the bartender.
I grabbed two crab balls from a passing waitress and looked for the woman. I wanted to talk to her about madness. How could she put up with these weird people and remain sane? I was too late. Another man had her cornered at the end of the bar. I eased to the bar, only four feet behind the man. I whispered to the barmaid that I wanted a glass of quinine water with two wedges of lime. I heard that quinine and limes are a deterrent to tapeworms. I may go to Kenya or Brazil in a few years, I want to be prepared.
He mentioned crop circles. I grinned to myself. Those people are quite mad. I stepped away from the bar to get a better look at the young woman. He said that tomorrow he was going on an expedition to a wheat field that had been attacked twice before by these crop circle raiders. He told her in a normal voice that he had room in his camper for another person. She was certainly welcome to come. The trip would be a genuine learning experience and he was sure she would enjoy the whole trip. He leaned closer, leering obscenely, running his tongue over his upper lip and winking the whole time.
The woman was shaking her head all during the one sided conversation. She looked left and right frantically for an avenue of escape.
He kept on describing the complexity and beauty of some circles. They had be made by superior beings from the north star or maybe the big dipper.
The woman emptied her wine glass, slammed it on the bar and screamed hysterically at the barmaid for another Chardonnay. She was shaking and pale as a ghost. She tried to tell him she had other plans for tomorrow. She had to visit her sick grandmother in a nursing home.
He laughed uproariously and moved a few inches closer to the woman. He put his hand on hers and squeezed. She jumped six inches straight up. He had her boxed in with an iron grip on her hand. His cell phone rang. He released her hand. Before he could say hello, she bolted past him on a dead run to the ladies room.
I nodded, pleased with her reactions. The man was unbearably crude and mad as a hatter. What woman in her right mind would go on a crop circle expedition with him. I sipped on my quinine water and chewed one lime. I kept my eye on the ladies room door and tried to sift through the different conversations that were assaulting my ears.
I stopped and cocked one ear at another woman. She had mentioned the magic word. Space! That was my field. Granted, I didn't have any astronomy courses or any other courses for that matter. But I knew space front to back, sideways and upside down. The woman was trying to tell the man something about dark matter in outer space.
“Seventy-five percent of all the matter in the universe is dark matter.” The man backed away as the woman inched closer. “It's everywhere but we just can see it.”
I moved closer to the pair. Obviously the woman was a fruitcake. Her kind are easy to spot with their wild eyes, gaudy clothes and bright lipsticks. She's staring at me. Does she wants me to join the conversation?
“What do you think about dark matter?” She pointed at the other man. “He's telling me about his fascinating stay in the Himalayas. He tracked Yeti to his mountain lair and actually lived with a whole family of Yetis. He took tons of photos but all were stolen by one of those shifty Sherpa guides. Now he is organizing a small party to search for Big Foot.”
This must be a convention of escapees from the local asylum or a Greyhound bus brought them here on a field trip. The men in white jackets are lurking close by. I decided to jump in with both guns blazing. “I feel sure that there is no such thing as dark matter. It's just something astronomers dreamed up to make their calculations come out even.” She scowled and looked around for support as the Himalayan explorer escaped her clutches and dashed to the bar. You have to be careful with some of these section eights. They can be dangerous. I hope she doesn't have a weapon.
“You don't say. That flies in the face of nearly all intelligent astronomical thinking at the present time. It's just a matter of time before dark matter is detected.” She wrinkled her nose and curled her lip. “They are also going to find dark energy.”
She is a lulu. But if you present your argument reasonably and quietly, a few loonies will see the light and agree with you. It is a good feeling to save someone from the nebulous pit of space madness. “There is no dark matter out there, you dumb ass. Who ever heard of dark energy. How can you be so damn stupid.” I said this in a nice soothing voice. I didn't want to alarm her. Sure enough her face lit up as if she finally understood Einstein's Theory of Relativity.
She stepped closer to me. “I feel certain that our universe is flooded with dark matter. Stephen Hawkings, in his latest book, states that dark matter was created along with matter and anti-matter in the Big Bang. It's been expanding for the last fourteen and a half billion years creating our huge universe.
I held out my hand signaling her to stop. I had her now. Stephen Hawkings didn't have enough brains to pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. “Isn't he the guy who said time started with the big bang.” She nodded
. “You mean there was no ten minutes before the big bang? Even an ignorant woman like yourself should know that's all nonsense.” I smiled, pleased with myself for being so nice. I hadn't even commented on how terrible she was dressed. I sipped my quinine water and chewed the last lime wedge..
She grasped my elbow. “I need another glass of wine. Are you ready for another gin and tonic” I let her lead me to the bar. Leaning against a bar gives most people a feeling of confidence.
The man in the white coat climbed back in the van. “He's not shooting pool or sitting at the bar. Let's try that restaurant. He should be hungry by now.”
The driver drove slowly along the street. “What did Nurse Jane have good to tell you? Is she ready to unwind at the local tavern.”
“I'll have another quinine water and three wedges of limes this time. Give the lady your best white wine.”
“Hawkings also