Cookie Cutter Man (8 page)

“Yes. We dropped the guy off at a rehab clinic, he said he
wanted to try and get clean.”

“Really? Wow.”

“I know. He said having that gun in his face kind of scared
him straight.”

The lie was told and believed; they sat together in a
companionable silence for a while, holding each other. Finally Echo turned to
him, looked him in the eyes.

“So you’re not mad? You’re not leaving me?” Echo asked.

The question stunned Daniel. “No, angel, of course not. I’m
gonna be with you for the rest of your life.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely I promise,” Daniel said.

“And you’re OK now?”

“Definitely.”

Echo smiled and kissed him. “How’s Tommy?” she asked. “Is he
still with that girl he met?”

“Yup, he’s still with Melody. Said he wanted the four of us
to get together for dinner or something.”

“Oh, we should, that would be fun. Did he say when?”

“No,” Daniel said. “He’s said he’s kinda busy next few weeks
but that he’d call after that.”

“Cool. Just let me know,” Echo said. “Ooh, and remember, you
have your appointment tomorrow? At the doctor?”

“God, I hope they can take these out,” Daniel said, gently
prodding the thick thread of the stitches in the back of his head. The little
circle of scalp they’d shaved around the cut was cool to the touch, with the
first few prickles of hair growing back. He could hear a light rasp as he ran
his fingers over the skin.

“Stop,” Echo said, smiling.

“They itch.”

“Don’t touch,” she said, pulling his hand away.

“I can’t touch anything?” Daniel asked.

“I didn’t say that.”

“How about here?” Daniel moved his had to her earlobe,
softly rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger in that way that just seemed
to always drive her nuts.

“Mmmm.”

“Is that OK?” Daniel asked, shifting on the couch, moving
his other hand across her stomach, up over her chest, feeling her nipple
stiffen beneath his palm, kissing her on the lips.

“Mmm-hmm. Come on, let’s go to bed,” Echo said. She stood
and pulled him to his feet. He looked her over from head to toe and realized
again how lucky he was to have her in his life. He didn’t ever want to lie to
her, or hurt her, or make her cry. They went to bed and an hour or so later,
they went to sleep.

The little penlight was bright, like a needle in his eye, and
Daniel flinched.

“Try not to blink,” Dr. Stanzliek said quietly.

Try not to blind me, Daniel thought.

The doctorbug put the penlight in his pocket. “Now, I’m
going to ask you a series of simple questions, and I want you to answer them as
honestly as you can. Do you experience bouts of dizziness or nausea?”

“Nope.”

“Do you have an unusual aversion to bright lights?”

“Only the one you shined in my eye.”

“How about loud noises?”

“No.”

“Do you still get headaches?”

“No.” Right now, Daniel’s head was pounding.

“Do you experience frequent or extreme mood swings?”

“No.” Nothing this asshole could solve, anyway.

“Now, why would you lie to me?” the doctorbug asked.

Daniel looked up with a start and could have cheerfully
pistol-whipped him, thinking again, briefly, that it had been a good idea to
leave his weaponry at home.

“What makes you think I’m lying?” Daniel asked.

“Well, Ms. Allen and I have had a few discussions about your
recent ...
erratic
behavior, and she was quite adamant about the changes
in your disposition.”

“What’d she say?”

“Now, Daniel, I’m sure you know what is said between a
patient and a doctor is confidential.”

“
She’s
not your patient. What did she say?” Anger
bubbled in his guts, and he did little to push it back down.

“At any rate, it
is
confidential. I’m only trying to
help you, Daniel. Answer the questions honestly, please.”

Daniel stared at that smug roach smile and dreamed of
kicking it in, shattering the teeth and busting the gums. He wouldn’t need a
gun to deal with the likes of Dr. Stanzliek. The man was old, soft. He could be
easily broken. Daniel suppressed a grin.

Doctor Stanzliek continued. “Are you experiencing feelings
of paranoia?”

“Huh-uh.”

“Looking over your shoulder, peering through the windows,
thinking people are after you?”

“Nope.” Daniel blinked away the segmented antennae that
sprouted from Stanzliek’s head.

The doctor sighed. “This is all very contradictory to what
Ms. Allen has told me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Excuse me?”

Daniel could hardly believe he’d come here, in light of all
Jared had told him. “I’m done with this bullshit.”

“But—”

“Can you take my stitches out yet?”

“No, but—”

“Fine. You and my girlfriend seem to be pretty fucking
chummy, so why don’t you set up an appointment with her and I’ll be back in a
week.” Daniel stood and the doctor followed him out of the small exam room,
sputtering, eyes bulging, his face turning red.

Echo looked up from her chair next to the door. She smiled
and stood. “How’d it—”

“Let’s go,” Daniel said, grabbing his jacket from her.

“What did the doc—”

“Let’s
go
!” Daniel said, grabbing her by the hand.

“Ms. Allen, may I have a word with you?” Dr. Stanzliek
asked.

Echo pulled away from Daniel and gave him a funny look.

“Echo, please, I
need
to
leave
.”

“Daniel, I don’t understand—”

“Fine,” he said, turning and walking down the hall. “I’ll be
in the car.”

He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know she wasn’t
following him and he ached because of it.

They’re only trying to help you
, the voice said, the
voice that had at first seemed to be Jared’s, or his own, the voice of his
conscience, perhaps. The voice sometimes seemed to be the voice of his heart,
and sometimes it was a whisper in his ear.

Daniel wanted nothing more than to pull the little bottle of
hall-pills from his pocket and pop a couple, but they were in Echo’s purse. On
their way from the apartment to the car they’d been in his pocket and rattled
loudly when he walked. They’d had a laugh about it and his head had been fine
then, so he’d handed them over without a second thought.

Outside the sun was bright, though today it seemed to give
off no warmth, and Daniel remembered his sunglasses were in Echo’s purse too.
The glass at the front of the medical complex was tinted, but the weak sunlight
still drove deeper into his head, amplifying the pain.

He leaned against the wall near the little alcove where the
drinking fountain was and watched the streets beyond the glass, the people
walking or driving by. He was looking for Lawrence Wills and was afraid of
seeing him now, with his guns at home and one of the knives from his kit his
only weapon. It was a nasty little knife; spring-assisted with a three-inch
blade honed so sharp the edge of it was nearly invisible, but Wills had been
Special Forces. Daniel felt it unlikely he would get the drop on him a second
time. No, if he saw Wills again, he would prefer it to be through the scope of
a high-powered rifle, or at least over the sights of a handgun.

He thought these thoughts and focused on breathing deeply,
and the pain in his head actually seemed to recede a little. He wondered what
Echo and that bug-looking fuck of a doctor were talking about, and the woman at
the reception desk kept staring at him, so Daniel went outside to sit in the
car. He smoked cigarettes and kept his eyes on his rearview mirrors.

About 10 minutes later the passenger door opened and
Daniel’s heart stuttered in his chest and he had time to wonder what it was
like to die, but instead of Wills, it was Echo. He could tell she was furious
just from the set of her jaw but he breathed a sigh of relief and started the
car.

“Can I have my sunglasses?” Daniel asked. Without a word
Echo dug them out of her purse and shoved them into his hands. He wanted to ask
for his pills too, but the sunglasses seemed to help a little, so he dropped
the Mustang into first and pulled away from the curb.

As he drove, the silence in the car grew and became like the
air before a lightning storm; he could feel the dread energy building in it and
wondered whether or not he should say something,
anything
, just to end
it. They were about halfway home and he was trying to think of something to say
when she ended the silence herself.

“I don’t
believe
you, Daniel!” Echo said. Her voice
was like a hammer between his eyes. He knew this fight was going to happen, but
it didn’t have to happen at maximum volume, right?

“Could you please—”

“He’s trying to help you;
I’m
trying to help you—”

“Echo could—”

“And you say fuck
him
? Well
fuck you
!”

“I know, and I’m sorry but I have a—”

“You’re
sorry
?” Her voice got louder as she mocked
him. “I’m
sorry
but I’m having a little trouble believing—”

“Honey, could you please shut up!” The car dropped into
silence, but only for a moment, and when he spoke again, he did so quietly.
“I’ve got a bad headache, angel. I’m sorry I yelled.”

A traffic light went from green to yellow to red as they
approached and Daniel rolled to a stop.

“Here’s your pills,” Echo said, and threw them at him. They
bounced off his chest and onto the floor of the car. Daniel contorted himself
around the steering wheel to try and grab them, and sat back up when he heard
Echo’s door open. The light was still red.

Before he could speak she leaned her head back in.

“I love you Daniel, but sometimes I hate you too.” Echo
slammed the door, crossed behind a Cadillac in the lane next to them, and
stepped onto the sidewalk. Daniel was trying to decide if he could whip around
the Caddy or if he should just circle the block and come back for her when she
flagged down a cab coming up the intersecting street. The light changed and the
Caddy crept forward, and when he could see her again she was climbing into the
taxi. Someone behind him really laid on the horn, making him jump, making his
heart pound even harder. He watched the cab pull away from the curb and she was
gone. The car behind him honked again and Daniel sped forward.

Bravo
, said the voice.
That’s the fucking coup de
grâce, buddy. You’re killing the only thing that ever loved you.

Daniel turned down a side street and pulled to a stop at the
curb, killing the engine. He closed his eyes against the world and was glad he
didn’t have a gun with him, for at that moment he might have shot himself in
the head to get rid of the voices swirling darkly within it.

Instead he retrieved the pill bottle from the floor and
shook three of them into his hand, cracking them in half as he worked up a
mouthful of spit. He took the drugs and turned on the radio at a low volume,
waiting for the pain to recede.

The first song on the radio was
Paranoid
, by Sabbath,
right at the beginning.

Ozzy’s voice came through speakers: “
Finished with my
woman cause she couldn’t help me with my mind
—”

Daniel clicked a preset button and heard Roger Waters.

“—
someone in my head but it’s not me
—”

Daniel’s hand flicked out and he hit another button at
random.

“—
it comes here it comes, here comes your nineteenth
nervous breakdo
—”

Daniel spun the knob almost heard enough to break it,
silencing Mick. He sat in the quiet for a few minutes, and then started toward
home.

When he walked in the door Echo was sitting on the couch. In
front of her sat a suitcase, bulging in a way that would’ve been funny if it
hadn’t been his girlfriend who packed it. Her eyes were still red and a little
puffy from crying, her face looked too pale, and Daniel felt another small
piece of his heart wither away.

“We need to talk.” Echo’s voice was ragged and maybe a
little bitter around the edges.

He didn’t know what to say.

“I
love
you, Daniel. With all my heart, but you’re
starting to scare me. It was bad enough when you were just dealing, but now
...” Her composure almost evaporated; she would’ve cried again if not for her
anger.

“Are you leaving me?” He eyed the pathetic piece of luggage.

“I don’t want to, but I don’t know. I guess it depends on
what we talk about.”

“What do I have to do?” He stared at her perfect blue eyes
and in them found the only happiness he had ever known. Was that worth losing
over some fanatic cause?

“Tell me it’s over. Whatever it is that’s got you all
fucked
up, tell me you’re out of it, you’re done.”

But on the other hand, what right did she have to demand he
stop being an active participant in something she didn’t even know existed?
What if he really could make a difference?

Are you serious? Make a difference? Make some sense,
asshole!

OH WOULD YOU GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

“I can’t tell you it’s over—” he began, and she got up,
grabbing her suitcase. “Wait, sit down. Let me talk.”

She set the bag down, but remained standing.

“I can’t tell you it’s over today, because it’s not. But I’m
getting out of it. It’ll take me a little while, but I will. I
am
.”
Daniel said these things, not knowing if they were true, if he intended to keep
the promises he was making. But if she stayed, he would have the time to think
about it, to make a firm rational choice and go from there.

Echo had a pretty good bullshit detector, but this wasn’t
bullshit. Not yet, anyway.

Finally the stony expression of severance washed off her face
amidst another rush of tears and she came to him, hugging him tightly and he
put his arms around her small, fragile back as it was racked with sobs.