The Flex of the Thumb (14 page)

“Didn't I just show you? I like to play the horn, Man.”

Dr. Burgemeister interrupted to suggest, “Why don't you sit down, Mr. Hill?” Dr. Burgemeister was a grandfatherly man with tufts of white hair forming bushy crescents above his ears. The other two staff members, Dr. Hicks and Nurse Cubbage, were seated on either side of him. Nurse Cubbage was a stout woman of middle age who wore a no-nonsense look.

Burgemeister explained, “Mr. Hill, the young man seated next to you is Vano. When you arrived, he was beginning to tell us about hoom. Please feel free to contribute in any way you can.”

“What is hoom?” inquired Herne Hill.

But before there was opportunity to answer, a patient named Gayle stood straight up out of her chair and complained in a loud voice, “I'm not sitting next to him! He's playing with himself again!”

“Calm down,” said Dr. Hicks.

“John is playing pocket pool again and I'm not sitting next to him!”

“Do you suppose anyone else wants to sit by him?”

“I said pocket pool! Don't you get it, it's
pocket pool
! I ain't sitting next to him!”

Herne Hill spoke up: “Here's an empty chair next to mine. Bring the little bugger on over.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hell, yes. I enjoy a little ball and chain as much as the next guy.”

“Thank you for helping with the seating problem,” said Dr. Hicks to Hill. “But we can do nicely without the sophomoric humor.”

Hill didn't speak, but raised the French horn to his mouth. He blew a
fortissimo
F sharp.

“We can do without that, as well.” said Hicks.

Gayle took John by the arm. She pulled him to his feet, led him to the empty seat beside Herne Hill, and sat him down. John was utterly compliant. Tall and thin, with a chop job of unruly brown hair, he was deaf and without speech. His right eye, a wholesale cataract, looked like a cloudy globe of eggwhite; no pupil or iris was discernible. His left eye was a partial cataract. The staff assumed he had some light and shade vision in it. John sat down beside Herne Hill, resumed his pocket pool, and said, “Lllllll.”

“Now then,” said Dr. Hicks. “If everyone is quite comfortable, maybe we can get something accomplished.”

Dr. Burgemeister accepted the cue. He turned to Vano Lucas once again and said, “Vano, we'd like to hear about hoom.”

On Vano's face was the pleasant, bland smile. It was some moments before he readied his reply: “It's not hoom, it's
hooommm
.”

“Whatever,” said Dr. Hicks, annoyed. “Why does it take you so long to answer questions?”

After five seconds Vano said, “I'm in
hooommm
. When I'm in deep it takes time for questions and answers to get processed. There's nothing wrong with the answers, but it takes time.”

“We'd like to know what hoom is,” said Dr. Burgemeister.

“
Hooommm
.” Vano corrected him.

“Whatever,” said Hicks again. “Do you intend to tell us, or shall we just play 20 questions?”

Vano maintained the smile. After five seconds he said, “
Hooommm
is a state of mind. It's a mental zone. It can be a transcendent zone. It is something like hypnosis or going numb; it is something like a trance. It is like all those things, but also different from each one of them.
Hooommm
is a mental zone unlike any other experience.”

“But what does it mean?” insisted Hicks. “And can you please speed up with the answers?”

It took a while, but then, “I'm not sure if it has a meaning. Looking for meaning may be the flaw. It's more a state of being. Sometimes in
hooommm,
the sky gets orange. Sometimes there is vibration and resonance like a baritone singing voice in a shower stall made of fiberglass. It's because of the resonance I named it
hooommm
.”

“Did you say the sky gets orange?” Dr. Burgemeister inquired.

“Not the whole sky, usually just the rim of the sky. It's like a bright orange sunset on the horizon, only all the horizons are orange at the same time, in all directions. Sometimes the sky gets a heavy texture, like it's made of lava.”

“I see,” said Burgemeister. “Can you remember the first time you went into, uh, the first time it happened to you?”

Vano said, “I can remember vividly the first time I went into deep
hooommm
. If you want, I could tell you about it.”

“Deep hoom?”

Vano could see no further need to correct pronunciation. “The first time I ever went in deep was only a few weeks ago. Before that, I was just in shallow. There were times last spring when I had brief periods of vibration, but they were only like forerunners of
hooommm
. They never developed into an actual zone.”

Dr. Burgemeister removed his glasses slowly. He began cleaning them with lens cleaner. “Maybe we'd better start at the beginning. Why don't you tell us something about the forerunners?”

Dr. Hicks buried his face in his hands. Baker, who had fallen asleep, began to snore in his chair. John said, “Lllllll.”

Vano began, “There was the time about the end of May. We were on our senior class trip at Magic Mountain. I was standing under the sky chute when a girl fell out of her harness. She fell all the way down and landed on the blacktop real close to me. She was wearing a white blouse and blue shorts. Her whole body just busted apart. There was blood and guts on the pavement like a run-over possum on the road.”

“Jesus Christ!” exclaimed Herne Hill. “Big time roadkill! That's a great fucking story.”

“And then what?” asked Burgemeister.

“I just looked all around me. Everybody was going about their business. All the rides were still going, people were buying hot dogs and Polish sausages, all that amusement park stuff. There was this group of strolling banjo players playing songs, and some actors in gorilla costumes were goofing on little kids and giving them candy. That's when I went into a very shallow
hooommm
. I could see and hear everything, but it was like everything was housed in this chamber of vibrations. Everything seemed unreal, and there was no emotion connected to anything.”

“And then what?”

“That's about it. I just stood there in
hooommm,
looking all around, and everything seemed to be whizzing. It only lasted a few minutes, then I was myself again.”

“That's a great fucking story,” said Herne Hill. Hill whacked John on the thigh before he said, “Isn't that a killer story, Little Buddy?” Turning toward Dr. Hicks, he said, “I figure me 'n' John is going to be
compadres
in no time flat.”

“How fortuitous,” replied Hicks, without lifting his face from his hands.

“That's very interesting,” Burgemeister told Vano. “Now maybe you could tell us about the time when you had the deep one.”

Vano was still smiling. “I'd be happy to,” he said. He took the time to gather himself first. “It happened with our housekeeper, Sister Cecilia. She's about thirty something. She has a last name, but I'm not sure what it is. Ever since she started playing in the Salvation Army band, she just goes by Sister.”

Dr. Hicks interrupted by holding up his wristwatch. “We really don't have all day, Vano. Is there any way you could speed this up?”

“She's really a Catholic, though; it seems like a paradox, doesn't it?”

“The rest of it, please?”

Vano told the whole story, precisely as it had happened, the night before he left for college. He tried to quote Sister word-for-word, although he couldn't rely absolutely on the accuracy of his memory. He concluded by saying, “When I left her room, I went to my own room and entered the deepest
hooommm
I'd ever known. The earth seemed to vibrate and there was a throbbing orange glow. After I went to sleep I had the dream about the pyramid. Of course all this happened after the accident with Jose's bat.”

Herne Hill whacked himself on both thighs and exclaimed, “
Hot damn
! That's
another
great story!”

Briefly, Burgemeister was tempted to try and untangle the bats and pyramid threads, but decided he'd be wiser to stay the course by doing first things first. He asked Vano, “How long were you in this deep hoom?”

Again, Vano didn't bother to correct the pronunciation. “I was in for good after that. I've never been out.”

“And what do you do in hoom?”

“I do the same things I usually do. I go to classes, do my homework, read my books, talk to friends. Even if I'm in deep, I do all the things I usually do. It's just the state of mind that's different.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Herne Hill. “That's one of the best stories I ever heard. Is it true?”

“Mr. Hill, this is not the hot stove league,” said Dr. Hicks acidly. “We don't put people in group therapy so they can invent stories. This is not the neighborhood poker game.”

Hill raised his French horn long enough to blow a sour note in Dr. Hicks' direction.

Dr. Burgemeister asked, “Does anybody have anything to say to Vano? Are there any questions?”

“Yeah, you bet.” said Herne. “I'd like to hear a little more about Sister Cecilia's tits.”

“Oh my!” exclaimed Mrs. Applewhite.

Nurse Cubbage spoke up for the first time. “This is preposterous,” she declared.

Vano turned in Dr. Burgemeister's direction. “Do you want me to go into more detail about Sister's tits?”

“I don't think that will be necessary.”

“How 'bout her bush, then?” Hill persisted. “He never said word one about her bush.”

“This man is exceedingly vulgar!” proclaimed Mrs. Applewhite. “Do you mean to say that he's going to be in our group every single day?”

Perceiving that Mrs. Applewhite did not approve of him, Herne Hill turned the bell of his instrument near her ear and blew a piercing A flat. Mrs. Applewhite bolted from her chair like a missile and collided with Nurse Cubbage. The impact, which sent both women to the floor, also scattered the nurse's papers and folders. From the prone position she protested, “This is preposterous!”

Dr. Burgemeister decided it was time to end the session. “We are dismissed for today!” he announced in a loud voice.

The session concluded, the staff returned to a conference room for the post-mortem. Burgemeister sat on one side of the table, Hicks on the other. Nurse Cubbage occupied the end of the table nearest the window.

At the other end of the table sat Herne Hill.

Burgemeister assumed a grave countenance. He chewed the tip of his Bic pen thoughtfully before he said, “The Vano Lucas case is intriguing, to say the least. The delusional pattern is provocative. We seem to be dealing with disorganized cognitive process as well as some withdrawal. It may be a form of undifferentiated schizophrenia on the subacute level. It may even have a catatonic element.”

Dr. Hicks sighed aloud. He wondered for the umpteenth time why he had chosen to spend his life farting around with society's lunatics. But then he remembered:
I do it for the money
. This recovery established, he said, “Let's increase his medication.”

Nurse Cubbage, who was studying Vano's chart, said, “He's not on any medication.”

Dr. Hicks produced a vial of nose drops. He began irrigating his right nostril. “So there's the problem then. What's the point of having a patient and no medication?”

Still pensive, Dr. Burgemeister continued, “It must be some form of schizophreniform disorder, undifferentiated type. There's a catatonic element involved, or I'll put in with you!”

The three staff members were suddenly startled by the loud voice of Herne Hill, from the end of the table: “Maybe he's just a numbnuts.”

Turning abruptly, they noticed Hill for the first time. “What the hell do you think you're doing here??” demanded Dr. Hicks.

“Just trying to be helpful, I suppose.”

Hicks said caustically, “For your information, the term
numbnuts
is not included in the
Diagnostic and Statistical Manual
. Furthermore, you have no business in this room.”

Without a word, Hill handed Dr. Hicks a white card the size of a calling card, whereupon Hicks read its printed message:

You are a suck-off

After pocketing the card, Hicks ordered Herne Hill to leave the room, which he did promptly.

Hicks stood up to close the door after him. Turning back to his two colleagues, he asked, “Do we have any recommendations for Vano Lucas?”

Hicks flushed his left nostril while waiting for an answer, but none was forthcoming. He capped the bottle. “I've got a 2:30 tee time. Let's increase his medication and keep an eye on him.”

It wasn't until four days later in group that Dr. Burgemeister got around to asking Vano for more information about
hooommm
. Burgemeister, Dr. Hicks, and Nurse Cubbage arrived in the day room where patients were watching
Sylvester and Tweetie
cartoons. Dr. Hicks switched off the set. “Let's get started, shall we?”

Burgemeister suggested that it might be helpful if the group could know a little more about Vano's lifestyle. He asked Vano how he liked to spend his time.

“I spend most of my time deep in,” explained Vano. “I like to read and I like to contemplate.”

“You say reading and contemplation. What do you like to read?”

Following his customary pause, Vano said, “I like to read about religions, philosophy, and the supernatural. I'm currently reading
Kon-Tiki
and
In My Own Way
. As for contemplation, I like to contemplate the things I read about. When I'm basking with Oboe Meel, sometimes I just like to absorb the conversation which surrounds me.” Vano smiled the pleasant smile.

Burgemeister said, “I take it hoom is not unpleasant.”