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May 21, 1997
He adjusted his glasses, pushing them farther up the bridge of his nose and looking at the open manila folder on his desk. Today, he had a decision to make, and the matter was more important than any other he’d considered in his life. The device he was looking at had never been used before. No scientific evidence declared with certainty that it worked well in humans, and his only son was to be the recipient. On the other hand, he knew his capabilities, and he would perform the operation and install the device. Yet, he was so emotionally charged with the responsibility that the thought of something going wrong made him quiver. He had to go for a walk in the park. That was the only place where he gained confidence before performing an operation or making decisions.
He shuffled the pamphlet for the last time, glancing at the facts and bypassing the possible side effects; he would deal with them as they appeared. He stretched his legs under his desk a few times and then pushed his chair back, rose, and approached the window. Spring was settling in quickly. The tree branches were showcasing specks of green, the sun toyed with the clouds, emerging a few times to dazzle the streets before disappearing, and the warm temperatures were declaring their dominance over winter’s cold.
He smiled, a crooked grimace materializing, and he touched his lips with his fingers to capture this rare occurrence. He was not content with his life. He loved his family, but his wife’s and son’s instabilities were taking a toll on him. His perfect family was on the verge of collapsing, and he worked way too hard to be defined by a moment or a stroke of luck. He was beyond human simplicity. He would lure and entice his fate by employing a different approach.
“Hold all my calls until I return, and in an emergency, you know how to contact me,” he said to his assistant as the door closed behind him.
He heard her loudly asserting her opinion on the need for an umbrella, but he was not going back; he urgently needed to reach a resolution. The morning rush had subsided, and the yellow cabs and city buses going down Fifth Avenue were claiming the streets again. He waited until the traffic light changed and crossed the street, longing for the immensity of Central Park. He held his breath with amazement, looking at trees that could have been eons old and still stood strong. They towered above the ground, and humans were mere dots in comparison to their imposing forms. He felt the roughness of cobblestones pushing at the soles of his shoes as he walked parallel to the park, the entrance a few yards away where a cement walkway intertwined with nature’s habitat. He could not wait. He disliked cobblestones with their lack of order and straight lines. The smooth, round-shaped stones were good to look at but hard to walk on, and as soon as he reached the entrance of the park he sighed with relief. He entered, scanning his surroundings for an empty bench. He had to put everything in perspective. He must gather his collection of ideas in one place and sift through them until all angles were covered. He passed a bench where an old man silently observed the birds that touched down in search of food, then another where a couple sat in companionship. He knew, undoubtedly, they were a pair since their hands were tightly woven and they kissed as he watched. He moved forward, following the pathway, and as a left turn approached, he saw an unoccupied bench. He sat down, closed his eyes, and recalled his inner dispute. The psychiatrist, a good friend of his, was adamant about his wife’s and son’s conditions. He said he had compared their brain activity with others and the abnormality was evident. He felt the signs would surface soon. His wife already exhibited abnormal behaviors, and his most prized possession, his son, would soon see things and would be accountable for his actions. He stayed a while, going back and forth with the arguments and occasionally pushing his glasses toward his face with his index finger, this action a routine. He scrutinized some runners for mere seconds and then looked up to measure the sky. His gaze caught two blackbirds between the leafy branches, who were fighting for a good nesting territory. It was two females, and their wrestling match was more aggressive and violent than he had previously observed on his exploratory walks in the park.
He felt the first drops of rain land on his face unannounced. No thunder or lightning had crossed the sky, although he had been anticipating them. He was convinced that all nature’s elements were aligned for a spring thunderstorm. Oh well, he thought as he hastily rose, determined to make it back to his office before the rain picked up. He gazed toward the other end of the park and noticed police activity just yards from his position. There were no sirens to declare their presence. That is curious, he thought while contemplating what to do next. He had a choice: he could offer his help or leave without a word. He recognized that going or not going would not be a determining factor in their judgment of his morality if he was uncovered, yet a force that formed within thrust him forward.
“I’m a doctor. I can assist,” he proclaimed to the police officer with a blend of determination and assurance. His face went ashen for a spilt second when he noticed the markings on the victim’s face. Unmistakably, it was the work of a person he knew only too well. The red lipstick did not follow the lines of the victim’s lips, the green eye shadow generously covered the eyelids to the edge of the brows, and the eyeliner was thick like the paint football players utilized to deflect the glare of the sun. He composed himself and recovered from the sighting speedily before confirming the death of the victim, who had been viciously attacked.
He believed there was a defining moment in everyone’s life that unleashed uncontrollable forces. That moment was his, and consequently, it determined his future actions. When he reached his office, his clothes were saturated, and he was dripping with his every step.
“Schedule surgery tomorrow at seven,” he commanded his assistant before he entered his office and closed the door behind him. Given an opportunity, he was certain she would have made known her feelings about his foolishness for leaving the office without an umbrella. He did not intend to give her that opportunity.