The Job Interview

“In here Mr. Alder, the doctor will be right with you.”

I stepped in and immediately realized that I was not alone. The nurse had closed the door behind me before I could say a word or object.

Across the room, sitting alone in an armchair, a woman stared holes right through me. She seemed even less impressed that we would be sharing the therapy session together. She rolled her eyes and averted her attention elsewhere as if to signify that she was done with me already.

I took a seat at the round table in the center of the room and actively ignored her. I didn’t have time for frivolous conduct with other patients, or at least I told myself that. Clearly, I was lying to myself. All I had was time at this point, and I knew I needed to utilize it to my advantage if I wanted to turn things around for myself.

“Have you lost your marbles too?” the woman asked out loud into the open, as though it was directed to the space we occupied and not just to me. I had no intention of answering, but the silence was unbearable.

“I most certainly have not.” I took the bait.

“Just one big misunderstanding, right?” she suggested, in the driest tone imaginable. 

“You could say that, but I don’t plan on betting on that approach,” I replied, matching the dryness, “not if I'm banking on getting out of here.”

“You’re a betting man, huh?” her interest was piqued. 

“I don’t bet, I know. I wouldn’t waste my money or time on probabilities and chance.” I scoffed, almost insulted by the thought of being so careless.

“I bet you didn’t wager you would wind up in here, did you?” the woman scoffed.

She was right, and I refused to admit it to her. I wouldn’t be here if I had been more cautious. Now, I needed to pull all the stops to make sure I got out of here unexposed. It shouldn’t be hard to convince the doctor of my innocence, as long as I don’t miscalculate my possible outcomes this time. 

The door swung open and a tall man in a lab coat entered the room carrying a clipboard and pencil. He looked much too young to be a doctor of any sort, but I knew better than to challenge his authority at this time. 

“Mr. Alder, I'm Doctor Gregerson. I will be doing your initial evaluation.” the doctor explained, sitting across the table from me and placing the clipboard and pencil down between the two of us. 

“Initial evaluation? How many evaluations should I be expecting?” I tried to sound indifferent, and not as frustrated as I felt. 

The woman laughed from the corner of the room where she continued to lounge, “You thought you would be released today?”

“Ms. Brett, would you like to join us please, or will I need to get assistance again?” Doctor Gregerson piped up, causing the woman to scowl bitterly as she made her way to the table. “I doubt she had the courtesy to introduce herself, Mr. Alder. This is Ms. Brett, she will join the evaluation today.”

“I would prefer if she was not here, to be honest,” I interjected, knowing she would only make the process more difficult. 

“I will need her to stay,” the Doctor ruled, “and I hope I won’t need to remind her why.”

“I would like to know why. Can’t she have her own evaluation elsewhere?” I shot back, taking the chance it might stick.

“Oh, sweetie, I’ve had my evaluations,” the lady poked at my sensitivities, “this meeting is all about you.” 

“Ms. Brett is here to assist with your evaluation. It’s part of her contract. You will learn more about that later, let’s get started with the evaluation - shall we?” the doctor deflected my wishes and wasn’t really giving me a choice at this point. “Mr. Alder, what is your relationship Dennis West?”

“I have no relationship with him. I didn’t even know him.” I confessed.

Ms. Brett nodded, and the doctor continued.

“What happened between you and Dennis?” he asked next, and I had a feeling I knew what he was getting at.

“He attacked me and I struggled to fight him off. I pulled away from his grasp and he fell back and hit his head.” 

Ms. Brett shook her head and made eye contact with the doctor to indicate that she disagreed with my statement. The doctor picked up the clipboard and started to write quickly. I wasn’t impressed with the lack of communication happening here.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand why- what was it- Ms. Brett? Is that your name? Why she needs to be here. This is not an eval, I know evaluations, this is an interrogation.” I argued, knowing I was being left out on the punchline here. 

“Consider Ms. Brett a consultant, she is merely observing-” the doctor started, but I cut him off.

“She is giving you her input on my statements!” I attested. 

“Yes, she is,” the doctor confessed, “and she will refrain from this point on, thank you, Ms. Brett.”

She rolled her eyes and sat back into her chair, but remained invested in the conversation. 

“Do you recall how Dennis West hit his head?” the doctor pressed on.

“Yes, after wrenching myself free, he lost his footing and rotated into the ally’s brick wall head-on I assume.” 

“Would you say he took the impact of the fall with his forehead or face?” the doctor explored.

“I couldn’t say, the only reason I turned around was that I heard the impact of him colliding, not because I saw it. What I did see was him hitting the ground. He was out cold by that point.”

Ms. Brett sat back up, “Doctor, you need to back up.” 

The doctor engaged with her, obviously still interested in her input. 

“Listen, Jordy.” the woman slid her chair forward and starred me straight down. 

“Excuse me?” I asked, alarmed, “How does she know my name?”

“Mr. West had no bruising or abrasions from an impact. If he had fallen hard enough to knock himself out, there would be indications of trauma. There are none, externally.”

“Wait a minute.” I tried to regain control of the conversation but failed.

“Mr. West is dead. Yes, it was head-related, but not due to blunt force. The autopsy showed that his brain was scrambled as if someone reached inside his skull with an immersion blender and tried to make a brain puree.”

The doctor gagged at the imagery and did his best to collect himself, but I was livid. 

“Are you accusing me of-” I tried but was cut off.

“Not yet, we still have more of the evaluation to see before I can confidently come to that conclusion.” Ms. Brett was now leaning into the table, trying to see past my eyes into my soul for the truth. She clearly wasn’t who I thought she was. I tried to keep my composure. 

“You called 9-1-1, correct Mr. Alder?” 

“That is correct.” Ms. Brett and I answered at the same time. It was like she was in my head, I hated that feeling. 

“Did you try to resuscitate Mr. West?” the doctor proceeded. 

“No, the man attacked me. I was calling 9-1-1 for help, I didn’t know the man was dead until right now. For all I know, he could have had the wind knocked out of him temporarily and then come after me again. I wasn’t sticking around.”

“Cut the crap, Mr. Alder. Everything you just said was a lie.”

That was enough. I didn’t know who this woman is, but she is going to regret testing me like this. I averted my attention back to the doctor, as a last resort, and did what I do best.

“Doctor Gregerson, let’s set the record straight. I was attacked. I struggled to free myself. Dennis West fell face-first into the wall causing irreparable brain damage. I called the police. They questioned me. I told my truth. They mistakenly detained me for questioning. I resisted, stupidly. I was brought here for anger management purposes, or so I was told. You have evaluated my mental state and have determined that I am of a sound mind. You are going to sign off on my immediate release from this institution or whatever this place is. I will walk a free and innocent man.”

The doctor stared straight into my eyes, just like every other person I have manipulated, giving me that dead look of emptiness I grew to expect. I turned to do the same to Ms. Brett, but before I could speak she lunged forward and clutched my face in her hand, leaving my eyes uncovered. 

“You’re some character, aren’t you Mr. Alder.” Her clasp was so tight that I felt my cheekbones ache from the pressure. “Let me tell you what happened. You were minding your own business. Mr. West attacked you. You didn’t struggle. In your panic, you went to mind wash your assailant but managed to fry his brain instead by accident. You knew he was dead the moment he hit the ground. You looked up and saw the alleyway security camera from the butcher shop next door. You manipulated the owner's memory to obtain the CCTV footage of the incident in hopes you could clear your name before calling the cops.”

“How the-”

“What you don’t know Mr. Alder, is that we’ve been watching you for a while. You leave a trail of mistakes everywhere you go. You can’t brainwash a person and expect life to move on for them without noticing that they have lost time and memories.” Ms. Brett clarified, as she kept her grasp on my face with one hand and touched the doctors left temple with the other, apparently undoing my work. Something I didn't know what possible. 

This lady is like me! She had some sort of mind control blockage. That's why she is here. She can undo what I do. My game is up. They had my number before I even walked into the building.

“Did he get me?” the doctor laughed.

“Yes Gregerson, he got right in there.” Ms. Brett replied as she let go of my face.

“So what now,” I questioned, expecting the worst, “lock me up for life? Death sentence? Remove my tongue?”

“Oh no,” Ms. Brett sneered, “you will soon learn you can do what you do, and so much more, without uttering a word.”

“We want to offer you proper training Mr. Alder. You have an ability that has proven to be quite useful in our field. With some guidance and structure, you might prove invaluable to our organization.” Doctor Gregerson offered while finishing up scribbling whatever he was scribbling on his clipboard about me.

“Or I could just take your tongue. That might be fun? Or you could go to prison for murder, I hear they take good care of inmates around here.” Ms. Brett was obviously joking, then in all seriousness, she reached out her hand to shake mine, “How about it bud? Want to be a superhero? I think you might have what it takes, or at least what we’ve been looking for. But then again, it might be a gamble taking you on. How do you feel about taking your chances now?”