by G E Barr

Created on: October 24, 2008

DR. RIGHTEN AND HIS PATIENT BESS

He leaned over and examined Bess' shoes for the eleventh time since he'd first met her. He was looking for clues, from his desk chair, that perhaps Bess was watching him, or analyzing him and each time, he hoped that she would make a remark about his insistence to look at her shoes. This time she did. But only out of concern that perhaps he'd developed a foot fettish. For you see, Bess was very well mannered and would never have made mention of Dr. Righten's examination of her shoes. Except in the case that she was seeing sickness.

At any rate, she saw not sickness, but repetition by a doctor hoping to engage his patient in some conversation about what he planned to be a made up illness. He often did it for fun.

Dr. Righten leaned back and scribbled a note in his journal as Bess turned her eyes to the sky beyond the lofty window. She'd never felt uncomfortable with Dr. Righten before. This time, she hoped that he would not be ravishing her feet or some other horrible faux pas.

The chubby Dr. rolled up his sleeves and folded his thick, well manicured hands upon his desk. The sunlight from the lofty window bathed his freckled, bald head and he enjoyed the warmth.

Bess turned her eyes to the Dr. and smiled at him.

"So what's going on today, Bess?" He asked and leaned back in his black leather chair.

"Okay, I've got four people in my head."

Dr. Righten held his breath, begging some divine occurence to prevent his laughter. He sat quietly, thinking of the bag-pipes, the ocean and George Will in an attempt to squelch the impending laughter.

"Who are they?" Dr. Righten demanded suddenly and forcefully.

Bess blinked her large brown eyes at the doctor.

"A black man, a Jew, a Cherokee and a crazy Irishman!" She sputtered.

"And?"

"There are forming my personality." She stated confidently.

"Well, it's about damn time you got one!" Dr. Righten stated and reached for a glass of water on his desk, sipping and watching Bess.

"I love black people...tell me about the black man first."

"He is of the loftiest character and loves music."

Dr. Righten took notes as Bess articulated that part of her she'd never told about before. When Dr. Righten asked her why she'd never told, Bess indicated that she'd feared retribution.

"And the crazy Irishman'...Dr. Righten said as he turned a page in his journal, 'is he violent?"

"Only if attacked." Bess answered looking down, unsure of the Dr.'s response and half way fearing it.

"I'm capable of the same Bess."

"You are?"

"Yes, now disappear before my next appointment."

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