D-77

Chapter 2

Danny walked up to the first room. The inhabitant of the chamber was already standing at the grate as if she was waiting for her. She was a woman about forty years old. She was tall, skinny, and pale. She had long hair that had a greyish blond color. Her dull green eyes always looked as if they were swollen from crying.

“Hello Anna,” Sanders handed her a candy through the bars. The woman’s eyes sparkled and a smile appeared on her face as she accepted the treat.

Many years had passed since the day that Danny started to bring treats to her father’s patients. There was a tradition in her class to bring candy on one's birthday and give it out as a celebration. But Danny's classmates never took the expensive sweets she brought to school on her birthday and even threw them at her during the break once. She came to Eric’s clinic after school that day and spent some time sobbing on the seventh floor while waiting for dad to finish some paperwork for the new patient and come to pity his child. Anna asked her about what happened and, after listening to the child's sad story, asked if she would want to give her a candy. Thus, this little tradition has been born. Every time Danny came to visit her father at work, she brought treats for Anna and his other patients that came to the clinic as the time went by.

She wasn’t afraid of her father’s patients. She was told a long time ago that they were separated from each other by some kind of energy field in addition to the metal bars. The only way to deactivate this field was to use the magnetic key that Eric had. Being a kid, Danny thought of it as if it was magic. She also knew that Anna would never try to harm her, just like any other patient on the floor. There were times when she almost forgot that they were not well because of how they behaved. They never seemed to be aggressive and never tried to harm anyone or themselves.

The woman smiled and took the candy, gently squeezing it between her index and middle fingers.

"Thank you, Danny," Anna whispered hoarsely.

Sanders winked at her and walked over to the opposite cell. An incredibly handsome blue-eyed man was sitting on the tiled floor in the lotus position a little too close to the bars. He had a slender body. His chestnut hair fell loosely over her shoulders. His eyes were watching after Danny from the moment she stepped out of the elevator. His name was Jesus, it was written on an electronic tablet next to the ward.

"Hey," Danny squatted down and held out a candy. “Don't you get tired of sitting like this for hours?”

“Hello,” the man smiled. “I'm used to it. And thank you.”

Jesus put his palms together and took the candy in them.

Thus, walking along the corridor in a zigzag pattern, Danny treated all her father's patients. The third room was occupied by the most cheerful man she had ever known. His name was Ernest. He was relatively short, had curly red hair, a big belly, and funny, slightly pointed ears. He greeted Eric’s daughter with a broad grin on his face and read her poems after getting the sweet treat. He always shouted that if he had his flute or maybe a lute, he would dedicate an eternity-long serenade to her. And at the same time, he swore his love to another one of Eric’s patients.

The fourth chamber belonged to a young woman named Regina. She was short, slender, and very beautiful. She never spoke to Danny, only nodded her head when they greeted each other, and she never took anything from Danny’s hands, so Sanders always left treats on the floor or asked her father to pass them to her. When Danny came, Regina usually sat on the bed and paid with her long braided hair while looking at the opposite wall. It was the same that day.

The fifth room was occupied by the oldest-looking patient. Nathan was probably about fifty years old, he was tall and he looked very strong. His hair, barely touched by gray, was short and slightly disheveled. His wrinkled face was always a grumpy expression. He wasn’t much of a talker, but, unlike Regina, he didn’t disdain to take something from Danny's hands.

The penultimate patient on the floor was Irena. She was the love of Ernest's life. She was sweet and friendly, and also shy. When her fellow patient showered her with compliments, a blush appeared on her golden skin and she began to twist her curly black hair around her finger. The woman smiled as she saw Danny approaching her room.

“Glad to see you again. You haven't visited us for a long time.”

“Yeah, sorry for that. I had a lot of work.” Sanders handed Irena a treat.

She slyly narrowed her brown eyes.

“If you say so.”

Ernest began to sing another song, which was dedicated to the woman he loved. Hearing that, Irena shyly lowered her gaze to the floor and reached for her curly hair.

Danny had known the inhabitants of the seventh floor for many years. Eric brought them to the clinic from his many business trips. He was constantly joking that normally people home bring fridge magnets from their travels, but he only brought new patients to his mental institution. And some sweets for his beloved daughter. Try to guess where she put all of those sweets.

Eric Sanders sat in an old worn leather chair in the last room on the floor, on wheels. He was in his fifties. His hair was already completely gray, which gave him a special charm, according to a few of the head nurses. He was tall, very thin, and very elegant. The only bad habit that he had was that he chewed on all his ballpoint pens. Only a few people knew about it. Hearing the rustling of shoe covers behind him, Eric turned off the recorder.

"Hey dad," Danny leaned over and kissed the man on the cheek.

“Hello, dear,” he smiled affectionately and looked at his watch. “Am I so late?”

“No, I finished early.” Sanders turned to the man standing at the bars. “Hello, Dragomir.”

The man whom she called Dragomir did not answer, only turned his blue eyes from Eric to Danny. It was considered as saying hello. He was the only "personal" patient who wasn’t brought to the clinic by Eric himself. He was brought handcuffed by order of an old friend of Dr. Sanders. He was definitely handsome but in his own way. A stern, masculine face was covered with stubble, blue eyes were always cold, but with a hint of interest. He was a little taller than Danny, broad-shouldered and well built. His dark hair fell just below his broad neck. There were several small tattoos on his arms. When Danny saw him for the first time she thought of him as if he was a wild animal. As if he had been dragged out of the woods. She had a suspicion that he might be a criminal and he stayed in the clinic only to escape going to jail.

The girl took another candy out of the box and showed it to Dragomir.

“Can you catch it?”

Again he didn't say anything, as he continued to stare into her eyes. In Danny's dictionary, it meant yes. She tossed a treat and the patient easily caught it with one hand. After carefully examining the packaging, he put the candy in his pocket, and looked at the girl again, while slightly tilting his head to the side. Thanked. Danny never came close to his room or handed anything to him personally. This might be the reason why he never spoke to her.

Sanders turned to her father. He had already buried himself in a notebook, biting the tip of his pen, as he reread his own notes with a very gloomy look.

“Dad, please put your papers away! Let's go home!”

“What?” Eric jumped in his chair. “Home? Yes, of course, dear” he stood up, straightened his white coat, and turned to the patient. “See you tomorrow, Dragomir.”

“What?” Danny crossed her arms over her chest. “Do I need to remind you that tomorrow is Saturday, dad? You have two days off! And you will spend them at home!”

“But I…”

“No ‘buts’! Or have you once again decided to run away from Aunt Martha and her sectarian rituals? Don’t you even think about leaving me alone with her! What if she decides to bring in some potential converts again? How am I supposed to survive that? You know very well that she wouldn’t dare to invite anyone as long as you were home! So forget about coming to work on a Saturday!” she grabbed Eric by the arm and started to drag him to the elevator. “Goodbye, Dragomir! Dad will be back with you on Monday! Bye, everyone! Behave yourself and I will check on you next week!”

Eric allowed his daughter to tug him along, smiling broadly and nodding goodbye to his patients. Dragomir stood motionless and watched them go until the very moment when he heard the elevator doors close at the opposite end of the corridor. A hint of a smile appeared on his face when he moved away from the bars. He opened the drawer of the bedside table, took out the candy from his pocket, tossed it like a coin, caught it, and brought it to his face to inhale the smell of the hand cream that Danny used, which remained on the wrapper. Then he threw the candy on top of the pile of other sweets he kept in his drawer and closed it. He lay down on the bed, putting his hand under his head and bending his leg at the knee, and began to whistle. The melody echoed down the corridor and Ernest began to compose another serenade for his beloved Irena.

Danny sat at her father's office, located on the first floor of the clinic, and waited for him to finally style his hair, properly wrap a silk scarf around his neck, and come out to her, holding his expensive coat on his bent arm. It wasn't that Eric was too keen on his own appearance. He was convinced that a man of his age and position must look presentable. Even while sitting in his own car on the way home. Danny didn’t mind when her dad was spending his time making himself look the best he could. But on the other hand, the older Dr. Sanders got, the longer she had to wait for him to get ready. Her only complaint was that Patrick could use this as an opportunity to come up to her and try to have a talk. The long-awaited moment came - Eric left his office, with a silk scarf tied around his neck, holding his coat on his bent arm and carrying a leather briefcase in his hand. After locking the office, he smiled at his daughter, and they went to the security office to grab Danny's jacket. As they approached the front desk, they saw Michael holding the girl's belongings.

"Thanks, Bear," she pulled her jacket on.

“You’re always welcome, princess. Promise me you'll give me a ride in your new car.”

“Only if you ask me to give you a ride to the cemetery. With my salary, I can’t even dream about buying a car.”

“And why is that?” the guard leaned sideways against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Eric, I thought that you would buy the princess her first carriage since she finally got a driver's license. Oh, and don’t forget that she didn’t kill anyone in her years of trying.”

“We had an agreement, either I pay for her school and driving tests, or I buy her a car,” Eric answered while looking thru some papers. “Danny chose the second option, so she has to save up for the car herself.”

The girl shrugged.

"But that doesn't mean she can't drive my car." He pulled the car keys out of his pocket. “What do you say? Will you take the old man home?”

Without a word, she grabbed the keys and ran out of the clinic. Eric put a few more signatures in the journal, gave it to the head nurse, and said goodbye to Michael. He went outside where Danny was already waiting for him. She drove up to the entrance in her father's old jeep. The man sat in the passenger seat and took out the notes made earlier.

“Dad, how many times have I asked you to sort out the mess in the back seat!” Sanders grumbled, taxiing onto a dirt road. “You have two personal offices, one at work, one at home, and a huge laboratory. Isn't there enough room for all your... junk?”

“Honey, this is not junk,” he mumbled without looking up from the papers. “These are all papers. And they are very important, by the way. They should always be at hand.”

“Daaaad, there’s no way that something that occupies four unstable cardboard boxes in the back seat could be at hand all the time.”

“Seven.”

“Seven?”

“Seven boxes. There are three more in the trunk.”

Danny groaned mentally. Was this even possible? For a person to be as careful about his own appearance as is indifferent to the order in his own car at the same time?

“Do you have one box per patient?”

“M?” Eric looked up from his notes for a second and looked at his daughter. “No, one for each floor.”

“Patients are placed on six floors, and there are seven boxes. What's in the seventh box?”

"Copies of the personal files of all hospital staff," Dr. Sanders closed the notepad. “Why are you asking me about it? Have you finally decided to train to take over the clinic?”

The girl frowned and pretended to be very focused on the road. She could almost feel her father's gaze on her cheek. He was clearly not going to let it go.

“I haven't thought about it yet,” she said after taking a deep breath.

“Why do you ask then?”

“I want to remove the boxes from the car! Think of a place where we can put them and I'll deal with the rest.”

“Hmm,” the man began to look at the road. “You do know how much I want you to be in charge of the clinic when I get old. This is my life's work, and no matter how good I felt about Patrick, I always hoped that this place would belong to my child.”

“I know Dad.”

“... especially since Dragomir is trying to make contact with you. He is my most problematic patient.”

“In what world does it look like trying to make contact? I never heard him say a word to me! And he had been in the clinic for a year and a half!”

“Yes, but he simply ignores the rest of the employees. When we tried to test his body's response to certain drugs, he didn't even move when someone other than me asked him to. I noticed that he reacted to you a long time ago. He looks you in the eyes, accepts what you offer him... Sadly, he does not talk to me about such things...”

“Does he only talk to you?”

“Oh, no,“ Eric smiled and smoothed his already perfectly styled hair. “Our stern friend is very sociable. As far as I understand, he established friendly relations with all his neighbors, so to speak. Unfortunately, I have no right to extort information about him from other patients, he will decide that I do not trust him, and will no longer trust me. If this happens, Dragomir will be lost to me as a patient.”

Danny nodded.

Eric fished out several pieces of paper from his briefcase. He looked through them quickly and then he tore them to shreds.

“Another request for a patient transfer?”

He crumpled the torn sheets into one lump and threw them onto the back seat without saying a word.

“Who do they want this time?”

“Dragomir, the second time this month. I will send them an e-mail tomorrow stating that this patient never came to my clinic.”

Danny looked askance at her father.

“Just don't tell your Aunt Martha about it. You know how she reacts when I’m lying.” he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “She will try to introduce me to Father Benjamin again. Don't give me up, okay?”

“I’ll think about it if you promise to take your boxes out of the car,” she replied with a sly smile.

When Danny and Eric drove up to a two-story wooden house on the outskirts of the city, Aunt Martha was already standing on the front porch, wrapped in a checkered blanket. As usual, she was dressed in a long black dress with a high collar and long sleeves. Her frizzy red hair was pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. Martha was fifteen years younger than Eric, but they looked about the same age.

“Hey, auntie.” Danny smiled broadly and went up to the house.

The woman narrowed her blue eyes and frowned, which made the wrinkles around her eyes more obvious. Yup, that’s auntie alright. She helped her brother and raised her niece since she was a baby and she loved her very much. But once Danny got out of her strict supervision, she became a little cold towards her niece.

Martha was also insanely religious. While still living in her homeland, she joined a sect, sold her apartment, and donated all the money she had to the church. Eric tried to talk to his sister at first, but her spiritual mentor got in his way. Father Benjamin convinced Martha that all doctors, including Eric, are charlatans, stealing money from poor people, in order to later spend it on satisfying their most primitive needs. Then Sanders went the other way. He told his sister about the upcoming departure to Latvia, not forgetting to describe how he would have to work hard and poor Danny would have to go to boarding school. Or even worse, he will have to hire a nanny, and she might turn out to be a complete sadist, and an innocent child will suffer from loneliness and bullying by some woman in a foreign country. Martha immediately screamed that she would not allow this to happen to her niece and begged Eric to take her with them. Or so Danny was told. The plan to save his sister had temporary success. Unfortunately, he did not think about it all the way thru. Martha continued to connect with her spiritual mentor, first by phone, and later using the Internet. Moreover, the woman began to look for like-minded people in Latvia. She used to invite them over on Saturdays. And she loved to talk about her plans with her family at dinner on Friday nights. So Danny hated these dinners... almost as much as she hated Patrick...

“You're late.” Martha squinted her eyes as she took out a thin cigarette and dragged on the fragrant cherry smoke.

“It’s my fault, Martha, I had to finish some paperwork.” Eric looked up at his sister as if waiting for permission to go up to the house.

“Dinner is served. Change your clothes and wash your hands,” Aunt Martha put out a freshly lit cigarette and left the porch.

Danny shook her head and as she was about to follow her aunt, her father put a hand on her shoulder.

“I think I figured out where we can put the boxes from the car.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup. Your room.” with a satisfied look on his face, Sanders went to the front door.

“Dad wait!” the girl went after him. “Why?”

Eric put his coat in the closet, put on his funny fluffy slippers, and grinned widely.

“I figured if I kept them in front of you all the time, sooner or later you might get interested in their contents. And after you get thru all the papers, it will be much easier for you to decide whether you will take my place in the future or not. If this option doesn’t suit you, we can leave the boxes in my car. They don't bother me.”

“Okay, I would rather see them gather dust in my room than shaking in the back seat of the jeep. But you will help me move them. Tomorrow.” the girl extended her hand to her father for a handshake. “Deal?”

The man squeezed his daughter's thin palm in his.

“Deal. Now run upstairs before Aunt Martha gets furious.”

Danny grimaced at her father's words but obediently left to get ready for dinner.

At that very moment, Dr. Patrick Philippson stood with his arms crossed over his chest and carefully watched after Eric’s patient, on the seventh floor of the clinic. Dragomir sat on the bed and took out candy after candy from the drawer of the bedside table, to build a pyramid out of them, not forgetting to bring each of them to his face and blissfully inhale the outgoing aroma.

"Why don’t Eric want to get rid of you?"

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his medical gown, Patrick headed back to the elevator. All the patients on the floor watched him in silence. They were used to the visits of the young doctor. Although none of them took pleasure in the flickering of his pretty face, they were in no hurry to report his visits to Sanders, waiting to see what would happen when Eric found out about them himself. As soon as he passed the first two chambers, Jesus' voice echoed down the corridor.

“Hey, what did you do to piss the pretty doctor, Dragomir?”

The “pretty doctor” approached the grate and pointed his finger in Jesus’ direction, almost choking with indignation. As he was about to say that this had nothing to do with his personal attitude towards the patient, when he heard:

“I don't give a shit.”

Jesus watched with a grin as Dr. Philippson's face stretched in surprise. These were the first words that the Romanian had ever said in his presence. By that time, Dragomir had completed the construction of the pyramid and was admiring his creation, resting his chin on his hands folded on the bedside table. Feeling the doctor’s gaze on him, he turned to face Patrick very slowly and showed him the middle finger. After that, he slowly poured the sweets back into the drawer, lay down on the bed, and began to whistle.

Only after returning home, did Patrick come out of his stupor. He didn’t get any sleep that night.