Hillary_Tail of the Dog (7 page)

“Are you going to hurt me too? Are you going to touch me like Dr. Morrison does?”

Dr. Bentley’s face lost all color as he contemplated Hilary’s accusation.

“What are you saying, Hillary?” he asked in a deep, serious tone, his smile fading.

“Dr. Morrison touches me...where he shouldn’t touch me,” she replied in a quivering, childlike voice, barely over a whisper. Tears continued rolling down her face as she trembled slightly.

“How? Where does he touch you?”

“He touches my breasts and down, between my legs...and....”

“And what?” Dr. Bentley asked. He looked appalled and irate as he waited for Hillary’s answer.

“He climbed on top of me,” Hillary said frantically, closing her eyes as if suppressing traumatic imagery. She took fast, short breaths, nearly hyperventilating.

“Take a deep breath, Hillary,” Dr. Bentley prompted softly. “It’ll be okay. Tell me what happened.”

“He...he raped me,” she blurted as she began crying.

“Hillary, what you’re saying—what you’re accusing Dr. Morrison of doing—are you...are you sure? Maybe you were just having another nightmare.”

“Why doesn’t anyone believe me?” she yelled as stared hatefully at Dr. Bentley.

“You told someone else about this? Who did you tell?”

Dr. Bentley looked puzzled. Who else was around for Hillary to talk to?

“I told Monica when it first started happening, but she didn’t believe me or help me. I haven’t even seen her since then, but I’ve seen plenty and felt plenty of Dr. Morrison,” she spat venomously.

“Tell me everything, every detail. If Dr. Morrison is hurting you, I’ll make sure it never happens again,” Dr. Bentley said, and he leaned forward to show Hillary that she had his full attention.

“Yeah, like I wanna relive it,” Hillary said, sniffling. Mucus from her nose was dripping into her mouth despite her best efforts. Dr. Bentley stood up.

“Let me bring you a tissue,” he said and left the room.

Moments later he returned carrying a box of tissues. He pulled one out and wiped Hillary’s nose. She looked mortified as he cleaned up her snotty mess. He used another tissue to wipe the tears from her face. He wrapped the soiled tissues within a clean one and shoved them in his pocket for later disposal since there wasn’t a garbage can in the room. He placed the tissue box at the foot of the bed.

“Now, Hillary, take a deep breath then slowly tell me about it.”

Hillary took a deep breath. A single tear rolled down her right cheek.

“It was just a few nights ago...I think. It was late at night. I didn’t fall asleep yet. Dr. Morrison came in. I thought he was here to empty that pouch over there.” Hillary looked over to where the drainage pouch hung on the side of the bed.

“He didn’t say anything,” she continued. “He pulled down the sheet that covered me.” Hillary’s breathing became labored and she was visibly shaken. Dr. Bentley patted her on her shoulder lightly.

“I asked him what he was doing, but he just ignored me. He started touching my boobs, pinching my nipples. He was really rough. I screamed for him to stop. I screamed for Monica to come. He didn’t even try to stop me from screaming. I figured Monica wasn’t around...or just didn’t care.”

Longer streams of tears fell from Hillary’s eyes as she continued.

“Then....” she hesitated, took a deep breath and shut her eyes. “He...he unbuttoned his pants. I knew what he was going to do. I screamed even louder and begged him not to hurt me. He didn’t say anything. He took his pants off and climbed on top of me. He touched me with his fingers first then shoved himself into me, really rough. It hurt so much....”

Hillary was crying hard again now. Dr. Bentley used more tissues to wipe her face. He held a tissue at her nose.

“Go on, blow,” he said. Hillary blew her nose softly. She was embarrassed to have this new stranger wiping up her tears and snot as she told him about getting raped by his colleague. Then again, compared to the indignities she had already suffered, what’s a little snot?

“He asked me to do that too...” she said hesitantly. It took a moment for Dr. Bentley to understand what she meant. His face twisted in disgust.

“Did you?” he asked.

“No!” she yelled adamantly. “I shut my mouth tight and kept turning my head while he flopped it around my face.”

“Was this before or after he...uh, entered you?”

“Before.”

Dr. Bentley didn’t know what to think. He felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach unexpectedly. If Hillary was lying, she certainly was a talented and convincing actress. Yet, why didn’t she mention Dr. Morrison’s purported request for oral sex when supposedly that had happened prior to him penetrating her. Still…she did seem genuinely upset….

Dr. Bentley was unable to shift gears and ask her about the nightmare she refused to speak about—the reason Dr. Morrison had called him, the reason he was there. Would Patrick do that to a child and think she wouldn’t say anything about it? He had known Patrick for just under two years, but he had always liked and respected him. Patrick Morrison was a reputable doctor, a talented neurosurgeon...and perhaps, maybe, just maybe, a child molester. Dr. Bentley stood up slowly, as if he felt dizzy.

“I just need a moment,” he said softly, as he shut off the recorder and left the room.

Hillary turned her head to follow his movement, her sad, swollen, wet eyes beseeching him to help. She sobbed softly and waited for him to return.

Dr. Bentley entered Dr. Morrison’s office without knocking. Dr. Morrison looked startled by his abrupt entrance.

“Are you aware of the accusations that Hillary is claiming against you?” he asked bluntly.

Dr. Morrison rolled his eyes.

“Oh that,” he replied, nonchalantly, waving his hand through the air as if to dismiss her claims. “Surely you don’t believe that—”

“I don’t exactly hear you denying them,” Dr. Bentley interrupted. Dr. Morrison’s face began to redden.

“Now listen here, Jake, you know what she’s like. She’ll say anything to try to gain your sympathy. She’s lying. She said the same thing to Monica. She has just as much faith in me as I see you have,” Dr. Morrison said defensively. “What’s the matter with you people? Have you forgotten who we’re dealing with?”

“Monica believed her?” Dr. Bentley asked, arching his eyebrows.

“We’ve had trust issues for a long time,” Dr. Morrison explained. “Hillary’s lies just made them all resurface.”

“Where is Monica anyway?”

“She packed up and went to visit her mother in Florida.”

“When?”

“A few days ago, what does it matter?”

“God,” Dr. Bentley exclaimed, “so she wasn’t here a few nights ago?”

“No...why, what are you saying, Jake, just spit it out”

“Because that’s when Hillary alleges that you raped her.”

“What? She actually said that I raped her...with my...that I…had intercourse with her?”

Dr. Bentley nodded.

“See, she can’t even keep her story straight. She didn’t say any such thing to Monica, just that I had touched her inappropriately.”

“Monica wasn’t around. This supposedly happened a few nights ago.”

“It’s a load of shit is what it is. Please don’t tell me that you honestly believe anything that comes out of that crazy bitch’s mouth!”

“She’s never lied to me before,” Dr. Bentley said frankly, “and she’s very convincing, Patrick. I’ve counseled many victims of rape...she fits the profile.”

“It’s Hillary, Jake, of course she fits the profile. Think about what you’re saying. Really…it’s bullshit!” Dr. Morrison yelled. “I never touched that girl inappropriately. I
never, never, ever
raped her, Jake. It’s absurd!”

“Why on earth would you leave yourself alone in her presence—especially after the first allegation. That’s not prudent, Patrick...to say the least.”

“Then I’m guilty of imprudence, but I didn’t touch her...I didn’t touch her, Jake.” Dr. Morrison was nearly in an uproar.

“Calm down,” Dr. Bentley said. “Let’s talk about this rationally.”

Dr. Bentley sat down on a small leather couch on right side of the room. Dr. Morrison stood up from his seat at his desk and joined Dr. Bentley, but not before pouring himself a glass of scotch. He offered Dr. Bentley a drink, but he declined.

“You know I think highly of you as a doctor,” Dr. Bentley began, “but I’ve always voiced my doubts about this project of yours, both as a matter of sound practice and a matter of ethics.”

“I think I’ve made a lot of progress,” Dr. Morrison replied, “Hillary is calmer now. I don’t even need to medicate her. She’s—”

“She’s hooked up to an IV and catheter, for God’s sake! She’s tied to a bed! Is that progress?” Dr. Bentley’s voice grew louder as he grew angrier. Rational thought gave way to emotional outrage. He realized he was growing too agitated and needed to calm down before things got out of hand.

“What would you have me do? Give her free range of the house? Put her in the guest room and tuck her in every night?”

“It’s inhumane,” Dr. Bentley argued, his voice lowered.

“She’s inhuman,” Dr. Morrison urged. “She’s not a sweet, innocent little girl. Don’t forget all the things she’s done, just look!”

Dr. Morrison tore off his eye patch to reveal a swollen, moist redness within a void that once housed his eyeball.

Dr. Bentley turned away from the sight of it and winced. He knew that was an especially vicious assault.

“Under the circumstances, she acted—”

“You’re defending her? I’ll have to get a glass eye to keep from looking like a total freak and even then, I’ll only have sight in one eye. I’m not trusted to perform surgeries that I perfected, techniques that I invented...all because of that bitch!” he shouted. He made no effort to conceal his rage.

“So are you taking your anger out on her?”

“Get out!” Dr. Morrison yelled. “If you think I would do something like that, just get out of my house and don’t come back.”

“I’ll leave,” Dr. Bentley said, “but I’m reporting you. I have to as a mandated reporter. Hillary needs to be protected.”

“Do you hear yourself? Do you remember who you’re talking about?”

“She’s a fifteen-year-old girl, Patrick, a child....”

“She’s a monster,” Dr. Morrison insisted, as he replaced the eye patch.

“And that’s precisely why she needs to be in the care of someone who’s sympathetic. You treat her like an animal—worse, even.”

“Jake, I don’t want to argue with you. I’ve never touched her inappropriately—I would never do that. I make sure that she’s comfortable, I keep her muscles from atrophying, I drain her urine, clean up her messes, make sure she receives proper nutrition and hydration...Monica sponge-bathes her and she will again when she returns tomorrow. Don’t pull the plug on this project, Jake...she’s making strides, I just know it.”

Dr. Bentley sighed.

“She does seem calmer, despite everything else. And you haven’t administered any more of the Neuronentin?”

“The last time was when she took my eye,” Dr. Morrison replied.

“And you’ve kept her tied down to the bed all that time?”

“Yes, except for muscular exercises—I release one limb at a time. I’m not taking any chances on having her attempt an escape again.”

“How does she occupy her time? She just stays there in bed all day and night without anything to stimulate her mind?”

“Well, under the circumstances, there’s not a whole lot that she can do tied to a bed.”

“She needs some sort of stimulation—I mean, something to do, music maybe, a television, anything.”

“I won’t bring anything into the room. I’m not taking any chances.”

“I don’t think Hillary should be here,” Dr. Bentley said pointedly.

“Well, you’re entitled to your opinion.”

“Have you ever considered hiring a nurse to stay with her during the day? Keep her company, talk to her, look after her. It would do a world of good.”

“That’s what Monica had been doing....”

“But Monica’s gone.”

“She’ll be back tomorrow,” Dr. Morrison said, “and you know we can’t bring anyone else aboard now, they wouldn’t understand. There’s really no reason to worry, Jake, everything is fine.”

“I’m afraid you may be doing more harm than good, even without any claims of sexual abuse, it still seems unethical to me.”

“You’re not seeing the big picture, Jake. Think of everything that’s happened. You can’t think of her as your average patient. You must believe that I’m looking after her best interests.”

“And just how long do you intend to keep her bedridden like that? Have you even checked her for bed sores?”

“She’s been sedated and turned every few days for a couple of hours. Her sheets are changed regularly, she’s a healthy girl...physically.”

“Do you think she’ll get her memory back?”

“Physiologically, there’s no reason why she wouldn’t. It’s just difficult to know when. Has she mentioned anything about that nightmare?”

Dr. Bentley shook his head.

“I didn’t have much time with her before...well, before the subject was changed.”

“I hope you don’t have any doubts about me. You stay and guard her ‘til Monica gets back, if you do.”

“I’ll talk to her some more, try to get some additional information,” Dr. Bentley said and he stood up and walked back to Hillary’s room without even looking at Dr. Morrison.

“I knew he would convince you that I’m lying,” Hillary said, as Dr. Bentley entered the room. Her eyes watered.

Dr. Bentley wondered how much she could hear. They did raise their voices. It was very unprofessional of them.

“He denied touching you inappropriately,” he said softly.

“So you think I’m lying!” Hillary was growing excited.

“That’s not what I said,” Dr. Bentley assured her, “I merely said that he denied touching you inappropriately. I’m sorry for everything you’ve had to go through. I know it must have been horrible. I truly had no idea that you were tied up to a bed, hooked up to an IV and—well, last time I saw you, you weren’t and I should have returned much sooner. I’m so sorry Hillary. I’ll make sure you get treated better.”

“How? Will you untie me?” she said, hopefully.