4 John Does

Post 9-11

The distinguished gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair stands in front of the American flag. The TV audio rings throughout the ward. "As we gather tonight, our nation is at war, our economy is in recession, and the civilized world faces unprecedented dangers."

Nurse Riley leans in close to Betts, "Should we turn this off? It might be upsetting."

"No, leave it be. They need to know what's happening in the world. If you see them getting uneasy, or if they have any questions, send them to Dr. Cole."

Jo's fingers scissor the air next to his temple. "Double, double, oil and trouble. It's all about oil. Just one word. Plastics." His non-fidgeting hand hovers above a chessboard. "Pawn to B5."

"Ah, the '97 Deep Blue match." J.D. toasts with his paper thimble of pills. "Za zdorovye!" He tosses them back.

I peer at J.D. in amusement. "Since when do you speak Russian?"

"Around the same time you started being fluent in prick." He winks at me.

The President blares from the box. "Our cause is just, and it continues."

Jo has switched chairs, and is playing from the white side now. "When shall we meet again? When the hurly-burly's done, when the battles lost and won. Mission Accomplished. Let's roll! Bishop to B3!"

J.D. points at Jo, but speaks to me. "I don't trust him. He's always five moves ahead."

"Whatever he is, we must have trusted him once."

"I don't like being in the dark."

"He's in pieces, like we are." I gaze into the bottom of the tiny white cup that held my Clozapine cocktail only minutes ago. Empty now, the chitosan coating dissolved by stomach juices and the drugs working their way through my bloodstream. "Maybe he's putting them together faster. I think when he finds the big picture, he'll share."

Jo is back on black. "Oil, wine, and Wall Street. Fannie Mae! Freddie Mac! By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes! Pawn to D6." His fingers move deftly over the game board.

Michael is rapt to the television, as Bush spouts the State of the Union. "None of us would ever wish the evil that was done on September the 11th.  Yet after America was attacked, it was as if our entire country looked into a mirror and saw our better selves."

Donny makes his way into the common room. "Mikey! Let's play! I have a good idea." He cradles Michael's face gently, making sure he has his full attention. "We can be Ninja Turtles. You're already Michelangelo. And I'm Donny, so I'll be Donatello! But we need more people to play."

Michael's eyes spark to life. "Ninjas, huh? Do we get swords? I feel like I should have a sword."

"No!" Donny corrects him. "Leonardo has the sword. Michelangelo has...." He pauses, trying to remember. "Nunchucks!"

"I guess that'll do. And I have to be Michelangelo?"

"Yep! 'Cause that's your name. Hey, J.D. can be Leonardo!"

J.D. leaps from his chair and struts past the nurses. A quick sleight-of-hand and Nurse Riley's sunglasses are on J.D.s face. He flicks the shades at the earpieces, causing them to bounce comically on his nose as he wriggles his eyebrows. "Cowabunga, dudes."

"Son of a –"

Betts places a hand on Riley's chest. "Let them have their fun. You'll know when they get too rowdy."

The three patients joust with invisible weapons, thrusting and parrying. Donny shouts, "Jo! You be Raphael!"

"Pawn to D6, pawn to d6..." Jo mutters. The finger tics stop as a smile threatens the corners of his lips. "Raphael... I like it. I think I'll keep it."

J.D. bows, with an excessive scraping presentation, hand twirling as he sweeps out his left arm. "It behooves you. That's three, Johnny!"

It takes me a second to realize that I'm the one he's talking to. For some reason, his phrasing troubles me. I furrow my brow. "What does that mean? Three what?"

"Three John Does. What did you think I meant? I was under the impression the boy was the simple one. Come and play, Johnny! See how happy it makes the kid?"

"We still need a Master Splinter." Donny chimes in.

I stand up from my chair and concede. "Okay, okay. I just have one question."

They all stare at me, awaiting my query as the President concludes. "We have shown freedom's power.  And in this great conflict, my fellow Americans, we will see freedom's victory. Thank you all.  May God bless." Tinny applause erupts from the TV speakers.

"What the fuck's a ninja turtle?"