The Scenario Man by Anthony Hedger – *Published*

The Scenario Man by Anthony Hedger

‘Obsessions, that’s what I think.’ The doctor said switching on a recorder.

‘They aren’t obsessions.’ David said angrily. ‘I keep telling people that. Look doctor, it’s all in the file over there.’ He nodded his head toward the thick green folder on the doctor’s desk.

The Doctor, a small man in his late sixties had a deep lined face as though he personally took on everyone’s troubles. ‘I know, but for now humour me.’ He shifted his half-moon glasses onto his nose and opened the file.

Frustrated with the doctor David said. ‘I’ve told it so many times before to so many people I don’t know where to start anymore.’

‘Try from the beginning.’ The doctor said calmly. ‘When was the first one?’

David looked into the doctor’s grey eyes then said with a sigh. ‘I was about ten years old when the first one happened but I’ll tell you about that one later.’

‘And you are how old now?’ The doctor turned over a page.

‘I was forty, last month.’

The doctor’s pen scrapped across a blank page from a pad lying next to the file. David stared at it wanting the annoying sound to stop. Somewhere from behind him he could hear a noisy clock ticking, he wanted this to stop also. David hated this office: he hated the smell of the chairs and the creaking of the leather as you sat down, he hated the mustiness of stale pipe tobacco which hung heavily in the air, he hated the highly polished desk between him and the doctor, he hated the sight of the diplomas lining the walls, he hated the oak floor and most of all he hated the happy photographs of the doctor and his family that were on the desk in front of him.

‘Carry on David.’

‘Well the second one came unexpected really.’

‘How do you mean, unexpected?’ The doctor asked and still his pen scrapped annoyingly across the page.

‘I was walking home from school.’

‘What was the time?’

‘The time, I don’t know, 4.10 maybe. There was a group of kids in front of me about fifty yards away. A weedy looking boy was hanging back.’

‘How do you know he was weedy looking?’ The doctor interrupted. ‘Surely he had his back toward you?’

‘He did but he kept turning around to look at me.’

‘Why do you think he kept doing that?’

‘Hell, I don’t know.’

‘Had you ever seen him before?’

‘Only with his friends, but this time he looked under the weather; sort of pale and sickly looking, you know dark rings under his eyes,’

The doctor nodded his head.

‘I said under my breath and I didn’t mean anything by it: stop staring at me you spotty little creep and why don’t you just walk into the road and break your leg?’

‘And did he have any spots on his face that you could see?’

‘No, not then he didn’t.’

‘And the leg was that broken?’

‘No.’

‘Carry on.’

‘Fifteen minutes later a girl started to scream pointing towards the boys face.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘The boy freaked out and asked one of the girls for a mirror and when he saw himself he turned around to face me by which time I had caught up with them.’

‘Did he say anything to you?’

‘No, he just walked out onto the busy road and that’s when a car hit him.’

‘The broken leg?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And why do you think it was your doing, David?’

‘Because I willed it to happen.’

‘You don’t agree with the newspaper article on it then?’

‘No.’

‘Let’s just recap on that for a moment shall we?’ The doctor said finding a clipping in the file. ‘It says a student attending Broad Oak School had an allergic reaction when he had eaten something which hadn’t agreed with him, hence the spots over his face. He had gone into shock; hence he didn’t say anything to his friends or you apart from asking for a mirror. Then while still in shock walked into the road. A car hit him, he received a broken leg. End of the story end of the matter. Now I want you to think on that for a moment.’

‘No, I did it.’

‘But David, don’t you think what the papers are saying could just be true?’

David went quiet, his deep set blue eyes never leaving the doctors face.

‘I will agree with you, yes it could have been a freak of nature, but I still brought it on though.’

‘David, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s all.’

‘Oh, come on doctor, a couple of times a year for thirty years.’

‘Yes.’

‘Sorry, I don’t buy it.’

‘Okay, David, give me another one of your scenarios which has come true.’

‘You just called them scenarios; I thought you said obsessions earlier?’

‘Yes I did.’

‘Then…?’

‘I still think they are obsessions I just wanted to use your term for it. Okay, let’s say you are doing these things, do you feel you can control them?’

‘Oh, yes, I know I can.’

‘What if I annoyed you would you want to zap me with something.’

‘No not yet.’

‘Why not?’

‘I said no, not yet.’

‘Tell me why not now, David?’

‘Maybe later.’

‘I believe I can help you if you are prepared to let me.’

‘I don’t need any help.’

‘Then why are you here?’

‘I was told to come.’

‘Oh, yes, that’s right, the courts. Then let me help you to sort yourself out.’

‘No.’

‘Why, do you like doing these things?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I said yes.’

‘Tell me why you like doing them; is it perhaps a power thing?’

‘Probably.’

‘I understand your dad left you and your mother when you were about ten?’

‘Yes.’ David fiddled around in his chair.

‘And you say that is when this all started?’

‘Yes, when he died.’

‘Well I am inclined to believe that your father’s death was the trigger to set these thoughts off. It’s related to the shock of how he died.’

‘It was me.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘It was me, I killed my dad.’

‘Why would you think that? You were only ten years old when it happened.’

‘I did say the first scenario could wait, until later didn’t I?’

‘You did but surely not this? Besides, the report on your father’s death was…’ The doctor flicked through the file again. ‘…Ah, here it is. Yes, it says death was concluded as accidental.’

‘And that’s all?’

‘That’s all.’

‘It doesn’t tell you that my dad climbed up an electricity pylon…?’

‘No.’

‘… and he grabbed onto the cable and fried his sorry arse off?’

‘No.’

‘Well that is what it should say. It was no accident, I made him do it.’

‘But he killed himself. There was scotch and many pills in his system.’

David looked at the doctor.

‘No, I don’t buy it, you are going to tell me it was you who made him drink the scotch and pills and then made him climb the pylon and grab onto the wire?’

‘Yep, doc, all my doing.’

‘Why in God’s name would you want to kill your own father?’

‘Because of what he was.’

‘I don’t understand, what do you mean?’

‘He was a monster.’

The doctor stopped writing and looked at David.

‘My father abused me for as long as I can remember.’

‘I see.’

‘He beat my mother and was always belittling her in front of his friends.’

‘So you think you killed him do you, David?’

‘I know I did.’

‘You don’t think it had anything to do with his state of mind? Perhaps he felt guilty for what he was doing and just wanted to end it before it could get worse?’

‘You’re good, doc, but it wasn’t like that.’

‘So tell me.’

‘I just had enough of his ways and what he was doing and one day I just said, using my mind, why don’t you drink the whole bottle and take some pills why you are at it. And then you sorry piece of shit, go and climb the pylon down the road and grab a hold of the cable and give us all a break.’

‘And…?’

‘And that’s what he did. Fifteen minutes later exactly as I had thought it.’

‘That is one hell of a confession, David. And suppose I believe you, could you show me how you do it?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘But there must be something that makes you do it?’

‘Anger.’

‘What?’

‘Anger is the main trigger.’

‘So what you are telling me is, when you get angry with someone you think a bad thought toward them no matter how bizarre it may seem or in your words a scenario and fifteen minutes later it happens to them just as you had thought it?’

‘You’ve got it in one; it’s about bloody time you believed me.’

‘I didn’t say I believed you, I only said, suppose I believe you.’

‘Okay, suppose you believe me, how are you going to stop me?’

‘Drugs.’

‘Drugs. You think drugs will stop this?’

‘I believe so, if you are willing for me to prescribe a course for you?’

‘And if I don’t let you what will you report back to the courts?’

‘The truth.’

‘If you are going to tell the courts the truth, I’ll have to kill you as well?’

The doctor stared at David; behind his glasses was a slight trace of fear. David noticed it.

‘Look David, I have to tell them what I believe.’

‘And that is?’

‘And that is you are very sick. You are a delusional schizophrenic. The death of your father has made you think you can do things to people and this just isn’t true. I will tell the courts in my report that in my opinion you should be admitted to hospital so we can run tests on you and we will put you on a course of drugs to help you to relax your mind.’

‘And if I refuse to go along with this?’

‘You really don’t have a choice….’

David suddenly held up a hand to stop the doctor from continuing.

‘I’m sorry doctor but I really do have a choice, haven’t you been listening to me for the last half an hour? I’ll see myself out shall I?’

David spoke to the receptionist as he went by her desk saying that the doctor needed some water but not to go into his office for about 30 minutes as he had to write out a report for her to type up. She thanked David as he left the building to walk free into the busy lunchtime hustle and bustle of London. David smiled to himself glad to be free of the horrid office he had even placed a thought in the receptionist head that he hadn’t been to see the doctor that day. Fifteen minutes later she had erased the appointment time in the diary.

David thought to himself as he crossed over London Bridge that any moment the receptionist will let out an almighty scream dropping the jug of fresh water and smashing over the doctors nice oak floor when she walks into his office to find him sitting in his chair with his smoking pipe pushed into one eye and the annoying pen in the other. Of course David had put the thought into the doctor’s head and also that before killing himself he was to shred all of David’s files, notes and tapes so there was no trace that David was ever in his office.

THE END

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anthony, david, doctor, hedger, london, man, obsessions, office, published, scenario, short, smoking, story, the and tony