The Unearthing of Blackstone Page 7

  “Hello, Mr. Blackstone. My receptionist, Mary, got you in today. Normally I am booked at this time but we had a cancellation. In the future, your sessions will be—”

  “Oh.” Ace chuckled lightly as he examined the walls, noting the doctorate the man had received from the University of Illinois. “I’m not planning to come again. No need to talk about future appointments.”

  “I see.” The doctor smiled pleasantly, crossed his legs and locked long hands over his knee. Ace wanted to punch him dead in the face. The poor guy had done nothing wrong, but he didn’t care. It was his entire demeanor and he was itching for a fight, someone to blame for his being a fucked up semi-recluse in a shitty world that needed her own ass kicked.

  “So what brings you here?”

  “Havin’ some bad dreams…”

  “Alright…tell me about them.”

  “Well.” Ace sighed. “It’s me, crying and screaming; only, I’m a little kid. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m always terrified. I can feel it. Everything is dark, but I can hear a lot of movement all around me, and then I see them… charging horses. Funny thing is, I actually love horses.” He offered a nervous smirk.

  “How long have you had these nightmares, Mr. Blackstone?”

  “…For as long as I can remember. Since,” he shrugged, “maybe four or five. Could’ve been earlier than that.”

  “Hmmmm, that’s a long time. And it’s always the same dream, precisely?”

  “Yes, verbatim. Sometimes it lasts longer, but it’s always the same thing, all the time.”

  “And how do you feel after you have this nightmare?”

  Ace sighed loudly and flipped about in his chair like a fish on a hook desperately wanting its freedom. He couldn’t help being so dramatic, but that question threw him for a loop. He rolled his eyes and hissed in annoyance.

  “Are you serious?” His eyes narrowed on the man. “What do you mean how do I feel? Wild animals are coming for me. How the hell do you think I’d feel? I feel lousy, that’s how! How would you feel if you were a little kid about to be trampled by horses and believed you were going to die?!”

  The doctor smiled ever so slightly and jotted something down. He then cleared his throat.

  “This is a process, Mr. Blackstone. I can’t force you to stay or come again, but one session will not get to the root of this problem.”

  “It’s not a problem…”

  “It’s not? You deem having a dream for almost…” the man grabbed his recently made file and, Ace surmised, checked his birth date, “thirty years as not a problem? I beg to differ.” All the time, Dr. Rose kept an even tone, grating Ace’s nerves even more.

  “Okay, well, it’s a bit disruptive. I just need to know what I can take to stop the dreams. Can’t you just tell me that or give me something so I can be on my way?”

  “Mr. Blackstone, I am not going to throw a prescription at you. I like to work in preventative means, versus just dealing with the symptoms. A nightmare is just that, especially one that occurs over and over. It is a symptom of something much greater, something that is troubling you to the point that it disrupts your quality of sleep.” He looked at his chart again. “You’ve been taking sleeping aids for over fifteen years.”

  “Yes, I have.” Ace looked behind the man, avoiding eye contact. He was feeling a bit warm all over as he pulled at his white shirt collar, fighting to get a whiff of cool air. Even if he were the only person standing in Chicago, that still wouldn’t be enough to get some breathing room right at that moment.

  “Is your job stressful, Mr. Blackstone?”

  “At times.”

  “You’re a private investigator, correct?” Dr. Rose glanced back down at his open file.

  “Yes…”

  “How did you get into that profession?”

  “I met a guy who did it for career day at my school.”

  Dr. Rose nodded and smiled. “You were inspired, wonderful.”

  “You could say that. It seemed challenging, interesting. I was always good at finding things.” Ace crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “I thought, why not blend the two together? His name was Harper Jackson.” He couldn’t suppress a smile.

  “From your expression, I take it you liked him quite a bit?”

  “Very much so. He was this big black guy, a former cop. He told me I had potential, helped me get the training I needed, and my license. Luckily, I hadn’t gotten a criminal record from all of my acting out. I never got caught, even though I was considered high risk. He accounted for me; I basically became his apprentice in the field. We started slow and easy, with things like intellectual property theft. To this day, I still do cases like that, but I also get a lot of missing person cases and infidelity inquiries. Believe it or not, the fidelity ones are usually the most dangerous. Yeah…Harper was a good man, gave me my self-esteem back. He’s retired now.”

  “He was a positive role model. That is very good.”

  “Yes, he was. Besides my parents, he was the only person who ever told me I could be something. He then, uh,” Ace ran his hand over his dry lips, itching for a cigarette something fierce. “He took me to his office one day after I spoke to him after class, and showed me hands on what he did. That’s how it all started, really. After that, I was hooked.”

  “It says here,” Dr. Rose looked at the papers once more, “that you attended Lake Forest Academy for two years and you were also in a military school for a number of months.”

  “Yes, I was at Forest Academy for two and half years.”

  “That’s a boarding school.”

  Jesus H. Christ! No kidding! So what?!

  “Yes, it is a boarding school…” Ace glanced in frustration at the clock on the wall and turned back towards Dr. Rose.

  “Do you know why you were placed in a boarding school?”

  “Yes.”

  “Look, Mr. Blackstone, you are the one that called this office.” The man stabbed his desk with his index finger, causing the pinkish tip to turn white. His dark brows dipped as he shot Ace a disapproving glance. “Are we going to continue along the path of short answers when the topic doesn’t suit you?”

  “My time in military and boarding school has nothing to do with the nightmares. You may as well be asking me about string beans or tire pressure. It makes no damned difference.”

  “That’s not necessarily true. It could be quite relevant, and I want to make sure no stone is unturned. I understand you are a bit reserved to treatment, but a part of you obviously wants to be here, or you wouldn’t have contacted me. So, we can end the session now, and I wish you the best of luck, or you can make the most of the time that you will be billed for, regardless. The choice is yours.”

  Mr. Rodgers had turned gangsta…

  Ace huffed, gripped his knees and looked between them down at the muted gray carpet. He would not look the man in the eye.

  “I was in a boarding school, because I had some behavioral problems as a teenager.”

  “What type of behavioral problems?”

  “Impulsiveness. Rudeness. I talked back to authority figures, including my parents. I hung with kids I shouldn’t have…I defied everyone.” Ace sighed and raised his head, but kept his eyes closed. He placed his hands on top of his head, as if being frisked. “I started smoking cigarettes at age twelve. I dabbled in some drug use, mostly weed but a couple of times, ecstasy…” He opened his eyes and ran a hand across his cheek, scratching it, before he continued. “I partied. I did some under-age drinking. I cursed out my parents on just about a daily basis. I was having sex far too young and not using condoms half the time, with girls I didn’t know that well. I was playing Russian roulette with my life. Anything you don’t want your kid to do, I was doing it and then some. The list goes on and on.”

  “And why do you think you were behaving this way?”

  “Back then, I wasn’t sure. Lake Forest offered mandated counseling sessions. The military school wasn’t doing that, so my pa
rents pulled me out and sent me to Lake Forest instead.”

  “Okay, so this isn’t your first time seeing a psychiatrist.”

  “No, but the other times were forced. It’s my first voluntary time and it is my first time willing to tell the truth.”

  “Well then, that’s progress, Mr. Blackstone. What truth did you not disclose?” The man uncrossed his legs and peered at him from over his glasses.

  “Well, for one, I didn’t tell them anything about the nightmares. I didn’t tell them the real reason I was such an angry kid, just made up some stuff, told them what I thought they may want to hear. I just did what I needed to do to survive there.”

  “Are you willing to tell me?” Dr. Rose leaned in close, his demeanor soft, nurturing.

  “Yeah, I said I was willing to tell the truth, now. I may as well.” Ace sat back and stared at the tiny gold globe on the man’s desk. “I always wanted to know why my parents didn’t want me.”

  “You believe your parents didn’t wish to have you?”

  “Not my mom and dad, I mean.” He huffed. “Let me back up. I was adopted.”

  Dr. Rose nodded and smiled. “Ahhh, okay.”

  “I have three older brothers. They are the biological children of my parents. My parents never treated me differently from them, though. I can honestly say that. I know little about my birth parents, about my birth family, period. I have no idea if I have biological brothers and sisters or not. I find the whole damn thing unnerving.”

  “Do you believe if you knew about your birth parents, you’d have a sense of peace?”

  Ace shrugged. “I’d like to think so, but I honestly don’t know…”

  “Okay.” The doctor leaned back in his seat, causing a slight squeaking noise. “Let’s take a step back for a moment. Here is what I am taking from this conversation, thus far.” He put his hands up as if waiting for a ball to be passed his way. “I want to give you a profile of yourself, of what you have told me, what I am assuming based on those declarations and what is in your psychological analysis which I’ve already read and scored.”

  Ace nodded and waited.

  This should be interesting…

  “You are a successful man, at least career-wise. You are financially secure; you appear to have a pleasing personality when you wish to showcase it. You are quite guarded, at times paranoid. You do not trust easily. You were adopted at a young age. From what you wrote in your evaluation paperwork here, you had a pretty good childhood, nevertheless.” Dr. Rose took a swig of water from a glass that was sitting on his desk, then continued. “You are, by all intents and purposes and societal standards, a handsome man—”

  “I’ve never had problems dating,” Ace interrupted, for some undetermined motive.

  “Right, but I’m bringing this up for a different reason. People who are deemed more attractive, Mr. Blackstone, aesthetically pleasing if you will, have things a bit easier in life, and can use their looks to their advantage. They can manipulate others. I believe you are so accustomed to manipulating people due to your job and your natural coping, that it has become second nature. So much so, you also manipulate your own self at times, just to get through your day.”

  “I don’t like where this is going. Let’s talk more about my good looks…” Ace teased, causing Dr. Rose to grin.

  “Very funny, Mr. Blackstone. Now, I’m certain you were only kidding because the topic has changed to less favorable, but I actually think we should talk about your physical appearance a bit more in order to bring another important point forward. Here are the facts…” He counted off his finger. “You are over six feet tall, you have a very masculine face, what appears to be a muscular build and a deep voice. This is what heterosexual women in this country desire, for the most part. It would undoubtedly have an effect on your love life, which we will discuss later. Now, moving along.”

  “Must we? I’m rather enjoying this.” Ace smiled, causing the doctor to burst out laughing.

  “Let’s add that you have a good sense of humor, despite your struggles. Now we’ll continue with my analysis regarding the other matters.”

  Ace nodded.

  “Your family was well off financially. You didn’t sustain any verbal, emotional or physical abuse from your adoptive parents or loved ones from what I can tell based on what you’ve shared in your paperwork as well as verbally. Regardless of all of these advantages, somewhere along the journey, you lost your way. This may have stemmed from the mystery surrounding your biological family. You have had recurrent nightmares for almost three decades; thus, you called my office and scheduled an appointment. You stated that they are now interfering with your quality of life, your work, which you value greatly. Your career defines you. It is the most important thing to you in your life right now, though, some could argue, it is simply a veil to cover the fact that you actually need to investigate yourself, so to speak. Why did you pick this vocation, Mr. Blackstone?”

  “I told you…it was career day and—”

  “No. Think about this, long and hard.” Dr. Rose squinted his eyes as he pointed to him. “Why did you become a detective?”

  Ace sniffed and rubbed his thumb along the inside of his palm until it warmed and reddened from his repeated touch. He crossed his ankles and felt an uncomfortable tickle crawl up his throat.

  “I think…I believe.” He raised an eyebrow as he studied his busy hands. “I felt it would give me some sort of peace, some closure, I suppose.”

  “Have you been actively looking for your birth parents, Mr. Blackstone?”

  “…Yeah, I have, though I haven’t done so in the last year or so. You can call me Ace. You know…” He shrugged, handing the man a counterfeit smile, the kind that said, ‘all is well’, when inside, everything was falling apart. “Nevermind…”

  “And so, you haven’t been successful with that search at all?”

  Ace shook his head.

  “Okay…” The psychiatrist paused for a few moments. “Is this an ongoing personal investigation? You will begin again, correct?”

  “Not currently, and I don’t know.”

  “How many cases have come across your desk that have gone unsolved?”

  “One.”

  “And…” Dr. Rose twirled a bright yellow pencil between his nimble fingers and smiled reassuringly, to coax him no doubt into being forthcoming. “I take it, this is that one case?” His brow shot up as if he were having an eureka moment.

  “You’d be correct.”

  “Let me tell you something, Ace.” He plopped back into his chair and hung loosely to the pencil, which dangled a bit from his grasp, just like the pause after he’d said his name. “Your career is impressive. Surely, you’re aware of this. It appears to me, you’ve become more determined to help others because you couldn’t help yourself. It is as if you put everything into your vocation, on trying to solve other people’s unanswered queries, because yours was never rectified.”

  Ace nodded nonchalantly. “Seems logical…”

  “How is your relationship with your parents, now?”

  “By many standards, unconventional. But that’s what I like about it. It’s good.”

  “What do you mean by unconventional?”

  “I can talk to my mom about anything. No topic is veered away from. She’s always been that way, very laid back. I get along well with my dad and my brothers, for the most part, too. I mean, no family is perfect. My siblings and I used to fight sometimes and occasionally, in the heat of anger, they’d say something about wishing I’d never been found, something like that.” He shrugged. “We were kids, then. Now, as adults, that sort of thing doesn’t happen anymore. Regardless, they aren’t to blame for my issues.” Ace relaxed a bit in his seat. The thought of his mother and father put him more at ease. Although many people could chart their hang-ups right to their parents, he couldn’t do that to the Blackstones for such a notion would be false.

  “Interesting. Well.” Dr. Rose glanced at the clock. “There ar
e two minutes left. I think, in this short time, we really hit on some important factors, and you’ve given me a lot to work with. I believe I can help you, Ace, as long as you want me to help you. There’s nothing shameful in seeing a psychiatrist.”

  “…I know that.”

  “You know that in your brain, but not in your heart.”

  Ace turned away, drifting about inside of his own mind. His anxiety began to mount again but all he presented was a stone face.

  “You wouldn’t make fun of someone who saw a cardiologist for chest pain, now would you?”

  “No, of course not.” He slicked his hand into his pocket and tapped his cigarettes. The plastic wrapped around the box crinkled as it slid against his fingertips.

  “Would you scold a woman for seeing her obstetrician to check on the status of her developing child? Her pregnancy?”

  “Her going would be expected.”

  “And this is no different. A person’s mental well-being is the most neglected field of the human experience, Ace. Now, we have reached the million-dollar question. The time has come. Do you want my help?”

  Ace hesitated, then nodded, and looked the man dead in the eye.

  “Yes, I want your help,” he said gravely.

  “I want you to be sure. Would you like to just use this time as food for thought, and get back to me regarding another appointment, or would you like to schedule another session for next week right now?”

  “Well…” He looked away, feeling cantankerous and strange. His mouth wouldn’t say what he knew he needed to, but he had to be strong and push forward. “We can do it now…I don’t want to back out of it. If I do it now, I won’t cancel. I don’t trust myself regarding this. I’m sure I want to come back, but…I just know how I am.”