BY REASON OF INSANITY by Edward L. Woodyard

By Reason of Insanity Chapter Sixty-Five

When I finally left my bedroom after two days, I tried to present my personal self as ordered, unchaotic and deciphered. I shaved, showered and dressed again in my Saybrook College dean's tea clothes of khakis and a blue Oxford button-down.

When I walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, I saw a delivery van idling in the driveway. The front doorbell rang and Barbara answered it. She was dressed in green surgical scrubs.

She signed a tracking device and then took a small package from the deliveryman. She shut the door, looked at the package and handed it to me as I entered the foyer. It was addressed to me with a Van Nuys P.O. Box as a return address. As I opened it, I noticed that Barbara had been straightening the living room and had rearranged the couch and side chairs.

"You got dressed. Much better."

"What are you doing here?"

"You know your wife hired me to help out? She's gone out to do errands."

"Where's Willie? Where's my son?"

"He went waterskiing, your wife said. He went with a whole bunch of his friends to some river somewhere up north. They left last night."

"Kings River. He used to do that in high school."

"That's the place."

"I'm glad he's away from here. He'll be safer there."

Barbara gave me a suspicious look. I was the one who was suspicious of her. Who was paranoid here?

"He'll be home before Sunday," she said.

"Let's see. Today is Friday."

I had unwrapped the package. Inside was my sunscreen tube from days earlier which I had taken with me to State Beach: Badger SPF 35 Cream Sport Unscented!

Freaky. Creepy. Spooky. It was too ironic and coincidental that Barbara was here when it arrived. I would not allow myself to react. I remained calm. She was not to know that I was fighting for my family's safety in the midst of this horror and the struggle to possess my soul.

"What was in the package?" she asked.

"Something I ordered," I fibbed. I placed the box on a shelf in the garage and returned to the kitchen where I made a Keurig cup of coffee for myself and a piece of whole wheat toast.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked from the living room. "I'm Barbara Gould. You remember?"

I chose to ignore her. Of course, I knew who she was. I had saved her life. Why was she now trying to destroy mine?

I returned to referring to myself in the third person. "This is the day he has Paul Rockwell. And Camelia Dempsey is at what time? It's different for her on Fridays. Where's his appointment book? He uses an appointment book and not his eFone. Have you seen it?"

"All of your patients have been notified that you were suddenly taken ill. Some have been referred again to your associates. Dr. Abramowitz took a couple. And some are doing fine by themselves."

"You didn't answer his question. Where's his appointment book?"

"You'll have to ask your wife when she gets back."

"He didn't tell anyone to cancel his appointments."

"They had to. You're ill."

I started to go off on a tangent. Was I really paranoid? Or was I doing my routine for Barbara Gould's benefit? Or was it for the benefit of those specters and apparitions and phantasmagoria that had been watching and stalking me?

"They're all after his money," I continued. "His voice is being recorded so they can do voice transfers at his bank. Now is not time for fantasyland. It's a conspiracy. Look, see how they've rearranged his room?"

"I'm afraid I did that. I'm sorry. I should have asked. I'll put it back the way it was."

Barbara was either concerned or pretended to be concerned. Was I trying to make her crazy? Was I onto her? Was Barbara really the malefactor? Or was it all in my mind?

I brought her into my "conspiracy against conspiracy."

I whispered, "Don't touch a thing. We have to use it for evidence. They are getting in through a crawl space. I know it. People get desperate for money. This is all a setup. They're out there. I know it."

"Let's go outside and see. How about that, doctor?"

I balked at her treating me like a toddler. "Don't treat him like a child. This is a brilliant mind you're working against here."

"Yours?"

"The perpetrator! The perp!"

Barbara fluffed the bargello needlepoint pillow on the couch and then led me toward the front door. I felt she was just playing along with me but that she had other motivations. I let her play along with me.

"I know, Doc. Let's go outside. A walk around the house will do us both good. Fresh air is always good for the body. Even if it is L.A. smog, you're still outside."

I whispered again. "He'll prove it to you. They're out there looking in. Don't say a word. Let's be sneaky."

"I just love games."

"And mind games are fun."

"The most fun."

"Shhh. They're out there."

"Who?" she whispered.

"Let's go find out."