APPLE ROAD: B.C.

Five years "B.C.", which was Apple Press jargon for "Before Cherie", Dr. Walter Bramley used to bring his family up to his log cabin estate on North Apple Road on weekends and holidays. He and his wife Gloria had one son. David was turned nine the day Dr. Bramley told his wife that he had died.

"It's your fault, Gloria. Your frigidity killed our boy. I've done everything I could to help both of you but it has come to this. Your game of withholding yourself from me caused him to be born fragile. He lost his will to survive and passed in his sleep last night, my dear. He's to be buried after Mass at the priory tomorrow. They've taken him already. Edison is going to drive you to the town house. I want you out of my sight. I just might kill you with my bare hands if you don't go now. I think we both could use some space." Dr. Bramley hissed to his heavily medicated wife. Edison had already loaded Mrs. Bramley's suitcases in the limo.

"Marina," Gloria managed to murmur.

"Marina will be staying here with me. After all, I need someone to take care of me. In the meantime, Edison will look after you. He has your medication schedule. I'll check in on you in due time," Dr. Bramley dismissed his wife.

"Get this monster out of my sight, Edison," Bramley pushed the wheel chair towards his man servant.

Of course, none of what Dr. Bramley told his wife was true. Their son was not dead yet. He was in the pool house with Marina. Marina was fourteen when she was purchased by the Bramleys at a very good price when they drove their recreational vehicle to Mexico on a family vacation several years ago. He wanted Gloria out of his way while he remodeled the estate. He was giddy about the changes he was making and didn't want her sullen face to bring him down. The isolation of being locked in her room in their townhouse for a few months might loosen her up.

The new practice he was opening was inspired by the monastery several miles up the road from his estate. For a fee the monks rented out tiny wooden shacks and provided retreats consisting of a schedule of prayers, chores and meager meals designed to restore balance in the lives of lost souls. Bramley's version of a healing retreat included medications, severe sleep deprivation, fasting and sessions in a sauna and hot tub. 

The towering cement wall around his compound was also something the monks didn't have. He justified it by telling himself he didn't want his wealthy patients mauled by bears but the real reason was that from his experiments he knew that sleep deprivation was a powerful tool that could render a person to think there was nothing wrong with running down the road butt naked and administering bizarre soliloquies to strangers who would feel compelled to report them to the authorities. This stage of treatment was something that should not be observed by the general public.

Five years ago, when David was nine years old was also the time when Dr. Bramley started stocking up on medical supplies so that he could tend injuries that occurred to his patients during the marathon treatments without having to resort to clinics and emergency rooms that might be unduly alarmed by what they saw.

~ To Be Continued ~