Later, staring into my various depths of fluxes and swirls on paper, I was struck by the most obvious connection imaginable: Ray’s take on sex, and his church background.
I chided myself out loud for having missed it in session.
Such careless oversight chokes me with overwhelming self-disdain and an unbearable sense of powerlessness, like feeling unable to stop myself from slipping ever further down into some abyss.
I am haunted by vivid pictures of all my clients realizing at once that I have no idea who most of them even are.
I see them storming out in one mass exodus, even my few precious Outliers, as I am dragged and blasted across the world as a total fraud and failure.
Worse, I see my beloved Method lost and buried forever, never having been made known.
These notes are my only hope.
So, Ray’s religious sex ideals brought to mind Dr. Adrian, a clinical psychologist and psychiatrist who has worked in this facility with me for decades.
I remembered Adrian having once relayed an experience shared by one of his patients connected somehow to religion and sexuality.
I could not recall the details, but decided it would be worth asking.
Now, I do not care for Adrian at all, nor his pretentious work.
I would never normally choose to interact with him.
In fact, I have no qualms in mentioning that several of his patients have died inexplicably while in his care.
Rising from my notes on Ray, I had to force myself to take each step down toward Adrian’s corner office, hoping at least in part to find him absent when I arrived.
Adrian was alone when I entered, standing slumped over a cabinet by his desk, busying himself with what appeared to be tiny vats of chemicals.
I wasted no words, speaking fast and with my hands.
“Hey, I met with this religious guy today.
“And he says the love he felt for a girl in high school overruled his teenage sex drive.
“Have you ever heard of anything like that?”
Tapping my foot, I attempted to adopt as harsh a look I could muster.
My hope was to come across as hurried and disheveled so as to promptly leave.
In reality, I had already called to reschedule my next appointment, which would have been my last for the day.
It was only another Normal, anyway.
No doubt her interchangeable issues will be just as pressing and ready to stick or break next week.
“Is he gay?”
This could have been a failed stab at humor, I was unsure.
Regardless, I remained silent and staunch.
Adrian removed his thick-rimmed glasses to wipe them proudly on his coat.
“Well, closest thing I had was this doctor a few years ago, an MD.
“But let me make sure I get this right…
“What he told me was he felt like the prayers he prayed for his patients were losing their effectiveness somehow.
“You see, he’d always pray for miraculous healing, but he just had this terrible sense the prayers weren’t working the same way anymore.”
I nodded, disappointed, already certain Adrian’s anecdote had no bearing whatsoever on Ray and Caylee.
Everything within me pushed to simply turn and leave.
But Adrian kept talking.
“So I suggested he speak with his spiritual leader, a pastor, about the issue with prayer.
“But then we talked for a while after that, and . . . um…
“I forget why, but I ended up asking him something pretty good.
“Have you ever had that happen . . . like, you weren’t expecting it, and you don’t know where it came from…?
“Maybe that was the miracle.”
Adjusting his glasses again, Adrian did something close to laughing aloud for almost a full three seconds.
It was a grating, husky sound like grinding gears.
I pivoted slightly, and took a half-step toward the door, deflated to hear him continue.
“But what I asked that doctor was: ‘So are less of your patients actually recovering? And, if so, how could you measure whether it was your prayers or treatments that weren’t working as well?’
“It was fun to see him realize right then his suspicions weren’t based on anything.
“They couldn’t be, if you get what I mean.
“After that, he knew his concern amounted to a feeling of spiritual inadequacy, which we talked about for . . . I don’t know, another month or so.”
Well, my suspicions were certainly confirmed: Dr. Adrian is a blithering idiot.
I will advise (right here) that a secret camera be installed to monitor Adrian whenever he is alone with patients or their pills.
Anyway, I called Minkrit a moment ago to inform him that, in my expert opinion, Ray is harmless.
I relayed every detail about the place under a bridge near a city.
Ray and I will continue to meet.
I promised to keep Minkrit abreast of all relevant updates; though I suspect there will be none.
Today I had to relearn a difficult lesson, though one I should have known already on every important level: I can never rely on anyone else (such as Adrian) for accurate addendums to my own research or findings.
At the end of the day, I have need of only my Method, as shall be firmly established in these notes.
. . .
Scallion8635 writes: Have u ever seen this guy, Tian? What’s that all about?
BeepWadJXDom writes: Just checked it. WTF?
Scallion8635 writes: I know! That’s what I thought. And no one can seem to find out more about what he’s doing and why…
BeepWadJXDom writes: Is sposed to b joke?
Scallion8635 writes: No, I don’t think so.
BeepWadJXDom writes: Like dancing or somthing? What u mean cant find out?
Scallion8635 writes: It’s like he’s not even paying attention. I heard only one person got a comment back. It could be fake. IDK. Tbut tian said something like, “It’s just for me. anyone could. When I don’t do anything, I get too loose.”
BeepWadJXDom writes: Ths freking weird bro