Adversary-"To Be or not to Be"

Prompt: Write a story about two characters who start as mortal enemies but learn to embrace their differences.

Adversary : To Be or not to Be

The cry “Help Me” was whispered by a terrified voice fearing it would be heard by his nemesis. With supersonic hearing, our hero Superman appears on the scene. He uses his super powers to battle his nemesis known as Rex Luther. The hostage is released, but Luther escapes to continue his rampage of terror on other unsuspecting humans. Superman’s adversary has not been brought to justice.

In another part of the realm, a murder has been committed and Scotland Yard intervenes with Sherlock Holmes at the helm of the investigation. Sherlock has no doubt this is his adversary, Professor Moriarty, who is responsible for this dastardly deed. Sherlock finds the actual trigger man, but the real adversary, Moriarty continues on his menacing way. Holmes’ adversary remains at large.

From a garden one hears a man say, “James, James Bond.”  Then a female voice says “You must defeat SPECTRE, James. Blofeld seeks to take over the world again. He will stop at nothing this time with his engineered virus.” In response, James says, “I owe him more than a mere stoppage of his madness. I owe him a one-way trip to his demise after killing my wife, Tracey.” Bond foils SPECTRE, but Blofeld retreats into the darkness. Justice remains unfulfilled.

I put aside my comics and deeply sighed. Are reconciliation and compromise even possible in these examples? No. It will never happen whether fictionalized or not. By definition a mortal enemy is someone or something that is bent on destroying or harming its opposition.  How can it be that a person harboring immense contempt or hatred could even fathom coming to terms with its opponent, let alone embrace their differences? Believe it or not, there are examples. I know of one specifically because it involves me directly.   I do have an answer to that question. It is intertwined in my personal story.

My name is Alfred. But anyone who knows me irreverently calls me Freddie. I am a quiet and humble person. I stay out of the limelight. For years I have felt that at times I was living outside myself. I would observe myself as a completely different person wearing strange clothes, talking in a deeper voice, even expressing outlandish thoughts. I became obsessed to check the mirror every morning to see what image of myself I saw in the mirror. I had gaps in my memory. I wondered about the events that occurred. The gap might be just an hour. Sometimes the time gap would be a day. To my horror, there would be a week or two slipping away where I would have no recollection of the things I did in my life. Razor-like cuts began appearing on my arms. I had no idea how they got there.

What was happening to me? I was a simple guy. I lived a quiet, reclusive life. Not ever married. Certainly no kids.  Even my job was passive and sedentary. I was a bookkeeper; I was the numbers guy. My relationships at work were few and shallow.  I had no friends. I lived in a single bedroom apartment on the south end of the city. I suppose one would say I was a geek, a nerd, a loner. It would be hard to argue that. My one passion was collecting and reading sci-fi and murder/mystery adventure series. Nonetheless, over the months more and more stuff appeared in my apartment. Decadent clothes, bling, expensive liquors, various illicit pharmaceuticals, and even pornography. I had no clue how this happened since I am bookkeeper in direct touch with my cost-of-living expenses. I was frugal and keenly aware of my monthly budget. My apartment was austere.  Since I had no social life, I was able to put away copious amounts of money. Or so I thought. I hoped that one day I could open my own collector’s book store. Weekly I would review my personal budget ledger only to find that my expenditures were exceeding my source of income. 

One day I became extremely agitated because my balance sheet was not adding up again. My nerves were frayed. I was so stressed. My heart raced and I felt I was in the middle of a panic attack. I felt like I was having an out of body experience. I was drifting away from my body. I saw myself sitting at my computer desk thumping away on the keyboard. I whimpered “who are you?” The seated figure stared back at me. He said “Freddie, get a hold of yourself! This is your alter ego, Frederick. Let me adjust your numbers a bit and we will be back in business.” I (Freddie) blurted out “are you crazy? You can not create assets anymore than I can create a second Alfred!” With a sinister smile, Frederick said, “Oh you can my boy and you did! I am the true you! You, Freddie, are a pathetic lump of flesh and sinew. You are nothing more than a parasite feeding off my energy. One day you will be history and gone forever! I will be Frederick. Freddie will no longer exist! For now, behave yourself and let me control how we live our lives together.”

“No, no, no, this must not be happening.” I blurted loudly. My next-door neighbor banged on the walls so abruptly that immediately I was shaken out of my manic stupor. Frederick was no longer sitting at the desk. I had taken his place. I took in some deep breaths. Was this for real, I thought? Perhaps this ominous occurrence was a product of my vivid scientific imagination? Had I become the center of my own sci-fi thriller? Was this demonic possession? Was my demise eminent? I had to find answers quickly. The evidence already indicated something aberrant, even menacing that was happening to my finances. Plus, I had accumulated (bought or stolen) this extraneous stuff in my apartment. I had to maintain an even keel to keep this Frederick from making another unannounced visit. I did some on-line searches, but nothing seemed to fit. 

I remembered seeing an ad in one of my magazines for a psychic reader.  Hesitantly, I made contact. I made an appointment at her salon that same day. I discussed my ordeal and she listened attentively. She proceeded at length to tell me her opinions.  I was hypnotized by her monotone causing me to gaze off into deep space. With a start I awoke to her screaming at me. She yelled at me to leave her salon citing my insolent, rude, indecent behavior.  I apologized by attempting to explain that this outburst was a significant part of my problem. Frederick had made an appearance. He must have decided that this was not his gig putting forth his worst behavior. His expletives and commentary intimidated the poor woman. Before I scrambled out of the salon, she yelled that I really needed psychiatric help. Well at least the visit was not a complete loss.

To get a psychiatrist seemed like an impossibility since I did not even have a primary care physician. The process could take weeks if not months. I suspected that Frederick would not be thrilled with my latest attempt to resolve this apparition issue as I called it.  I did the next best thing I could think of. I dialed a mental health help-line. I made a connection with a volunteer at the help-line. After explaining my situation, the volunteer was exceedingly compassionate but could only direct me to the nearest hospital in my area with a psychiatric ward. I did all I could for one day.

It was a restless night. The next morning, I was awakened to the husky, gravelly voice of Frederick. He said to me “Freddie, I know what you are trying to do to me. You want someone to take me away from you. My boy, I am with you; I am you whether you like it or not. See the cuts on your arms? You did this in your sleep. You want to be like me. Knowing you cannot be like me your agony became severe and you lashed out at yourself. I stopped you.” He mockingly laughed at me. I covered my ears. I refused to hear any more of Frederick’s lies.  I had to get out of my apartment. I threw on some clothes and left, but all I could hear were his laughs echoing in my head.  My hatred for Frederick was growing as much as Frederick’s revulsion for me. We both wanted to eradicate each other from our lives.

I managed to calm myself before I drove to the hospital. There were no other options but to check myself into the psychiatric ward for help. Once I cleared admissions for insurance coverage, I was taken to an office where I would meet the on-call psychiatrist. The wait seemed painfully long and I was fearful Frederick would make an appearance. I was not ready to confront him. 

Finally, the psychiatrist entered. He introduced himself as Dr. Who. I looked at him befuddled, incredulous, and speechless. He wryly smiled at me saying “I get those looks often.” He proceeded to say, “no, I am not a time traveler and I do not own a Tardis. I only rent one.” He then chuckled deeply at his so-called humor. I pinched myself. Was this my reality? Am I living in one big comic adventure? 

He then got serious. “Tell me what is troubling you.” For the next two hours I explained at length my background, my current living situation, my blackouts, my out of body experiences and my dreaded encounters with Frederick who calls himself my alter ego. Then the doctor asked if he could meet Frederick. I said “I do not have the power to conjure him up. He just appears.” “Under what conditions?” the doctor asked.” I replied “when I am stressed and I begin to feel myself leave my body.” Then the doctor saw the razor marks on my arms. Immediately, the doctor flayed his arms above his head saying “my boy, he wants to kill you! I am going to have to isolate you for the time here in the ward so the two of you do not hurt yourself.” He said “two.” I panicked. And panicked like I had never done before. I suspected he was trying to draw Frederick out. And it worked. Frederick appeared.

After the episode the doctor told me that Frederick was no gentleman unlike my meek, polite behavior that I displayed. Frederick wanted no part in this healing. He was the dominant persona and that Freddie should get the “hell out of my life.” Frederick said “Freddie is a parasite and must be eradicated. I tried with a few cuts to the arm but I winced at his pain. So I am planning other subtle ways to suppress his wretched, boring, pathetic lifestyle. He is contemptible and there is nothing good in him.” After Frederick’s tirade, the doctor offered a proposal to him. Likewise, he made the same offer to me.

He said, “the three of us need to get to the underlying cause of this conflict. There is common ground to establish. There was a great hurt, trauma or injustice perpetrated onto both of you. We need to discuss it openly. There must be an open exchange between both of you; otherwise, if you do not the outcome will be unfavorable. Both of you will die together. Who does the “extermination” would be of no consequence. The end result without the two of you cooperating is the death of Frederick and Freddie.”  The doctor added, “Frederick actually calmed down.” He then said, “You and Frederick are experiencing ‘Dissociative Identity Disorder’ or in the old vernacular ‘split personality.’ Healing is certainly possible, but it will take long arduous sessions of therapy and understanding from both of you. The main goal is determining what traumatic event occurred in the past that triggered the personality separation.” Days later some progress was being made, but the root of the trauma had yet to be unveiled. Our personalities, however, were less conspicuous and some melding of ourselves was occurring.

Visitors in the ward are not permitted, although I was not expecting anyone anyway, even from my work. It happened that a local pastor would often stop by to pray with anyone in the ward that wished to do so.  I was not religious, but I opted to sit with him for a period. There was no resistance from Frederick. The pastor was cordial and unassuming. He definitely was not one of those ‘holy roller’ types one sees on television. After introducing himself, he opened his Bible reading these passages:

“Know that the Lord is God. He made us, and we belong to him. We are his people.  We are the sheep belonging to his flock.” Psalm 100:3 (NIRV)

“You created the deepest parts of my being. You put me together inside my mother’s body. How you made me is amazing and wonderful.  I praise you for that. What you have done is wonderful. I know that very well.  None of my bones was hidden from you when you made me inside my mother’s body.  That place was as dark as the deepest parts of the earth. When you were putting me together there, your eyes saw my body even before it was formed. You planned how many days I would live. You wrote down the number of them in your book before I had lived through even one of them.” Psalm 139:13-16 (NIRV)

“Now if we are children, then we are heirs-heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in His sufferings in order that we may also share in His glory. Romans 8:17 (NIV)

Tears flowed from my eyes. I sobbed.  I felt Frederick’s presence inside me. So much hurt; the abusive words and treatment. I had a flashback seeing my mother strike me repeatedly on my head. I remember those words, “You worthless piece of flesh! You are nothing more than a parasite to me! How I wish you were never born!”

After months of continued therapy Frederick and Freddie now embrace each other as Alfred.

You have started living a new life. Your knowledge of how that life should have the Creator’s likeness is being made new. Colossians 3:10 (NIRV)

(NIRV=New International Readers Version)

Acknowledgement: Reedsy.com