"Coup de Foudre" 118
I'm back.
Hang on!
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, August 2016
“Ted! Get the fuck over here as fast as you can!”
Ted sat up in bed. “Michael? Is that you? What’s going on? Is your house on fire?”
“I’m not at home,” Michael said. “I’m at Brian’s. Don’t ask questions, just come now!”
“What’s going on?” Blake rolled over and turned on the light. “Is that Michael? What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know,” said Ted. “Something’s up at Brian’s house.”
Blake sighed. “It figures.”
“Michael, you have to calm down and tell me what’s happening,” said Ted. “Speak slowly and clearly.”
“I can’t calm down!” Michael’s voice was sputtering. “Please! Get the fuck over here! Now!”
“But… Michael? Michael!” Ted shook his head. “He hung up. What’s going on over there?”
“What time is it?” Blake squinted at the clock. “Jesus. It’s after midnight. You know how Michael gets hysterical over anything involving Brian. It’s probably nothing.”
“Maybe Brian had another accident,” said Ted.
“Then they’d call 911 and he’d tell you to go to the hospital,” Blake reasoned.
“I have to go.” Ted got out of bed. “Michael’s my best friend and Brian is my boss. Whatever is happening, I better get over there.”
Blake rolled over. “If you have to, then go. But I think you need to step away from all that drama.”
“I know,” said Ted, pulling a clean tee shirt from the drawer. “But I can’t just ignore Michael. And if something really is the matter with Brian…”
“Just go,” said Blake. “And try not to wake me up when you come home. Tomorrow is my first day off this week and I’m planning to sleep in!”
***
The house was all lit up when Ted pulled into the driveway. He recognized Michael’s Honda parked haphazardly next to a large and unfamiliar Mercedes. The front door was ajar.
“Hello? Where is everyone.”
That’s when he heard the crash.
“Son of a bitch!”
Down the stairs came Jimmy Hardy like the hounds of Hell were on his tail. His nose was bleeding. He blundered directly into Ted.
“Mr. Hardy! Are you all right?”
“Do I look all right? Christ! He tried to kill me!”
There was only one person in the house capable of killing anyone, let alone America’s Boy Next Door. “What happened? Where’s Brian?”
“He’s gone nuts!” Jimmy panted. “He… he… he’s dangerous! I always warned Ron that Brian had a fucking screw loose, but Ron would never listen to me!”
Carmel came downstairs, followed by a tall blonde woman.
“Oh! Mr. Jimmy! Are you okay? Your poor nose! Come into the kitchen and I’ll get some ice.” Carmel took Jimmy’s arm and steered him toward the kitchen.
“I warned you, Mr. Hardy,” said the blonde woman. “Whatever you did to him, Brian apparently did not appreciate it.”
“I didn’t do a thing to him, Doc!” Jimmy whimpered. Carmel sat him down at the kitchen table and began to dab at his face with a clean towel. “He’s fucking crazy! You need to call the men in the white coats and have him committed! Ouch! That fucking stings!”
“I’m trying to help you, Mr. Jimmy!” Carmel huffed. “Sit still! Mr. Ted, can you get me some ice, please?”
“Sure.”
Ted took out a handful of ice cubes from the freezer and wrapped them in another towel. Carmel then applied the ice pack to Jimmy’s nose.
“I told you before, Mr. Hardy, that I am not a psychiatrist,” said the blonde woman. “I’m Brian’s neuropsychologist. I direct him in his cognitive therapy. The only reason I came over here at this ungodly hour is that Brian is in trouble and I wanted to assess the situation. If you want to take him to the emergency room at Allegheny General, I’ll alert Dr. Sun that he’s coming in, but at this point everyone needs to calm down. Unless you are planning to call the police and have him arrested for assault?”
“No,” Jimmy moaned. “I’m not going to have him arrested. Can you imagine what would happen if the press got hold of this story? 'TMZ' would be outside the house with cameras by the time the sun came up! You think that’s what I want?”
The blonde shrugged. “I have no clue what you want, Mr. Hardy. But if I were you, I’d get Justin back here and then I would make myself scarce.” There was another crash upstairs. “Before Brian hurts himself.”
“Himself!” Jimmy winced. “What about me?”
“I have a feeling that you have been asking for that punch for quite some time,” said the blonde, raising a carefully tweezed eyebrow. “I’m Dr. Deutsch, by the way,” she said to Ted, offering him a soft hand.
“I’m Ted Schmidt. I work at Kinnetik.”
“Ah, yes. His good friend. Brian has spoken of you. You help with his cognitive exercises.”
“He has? I mean… I try to help as much as I can.”
Dr. Deutsch nodded. “Perhaps they could use you upstairs.” She nudged Ted towards the kitchen door.
“What the hell happened? And where did Justin go?”
“I don’t know,” said Dr. Deutsch. “Probably back to his apartment. He’s not answering his cell, although I’ve left messages and so has his friend Michael.”
“Michael is the one who called me. So I came right over.” Ted scratched his head. “Brian punched Jimmy? Not that Jimmy doesn’t deserve to be punched out, but I thought Justin would be the one to do it!”
Dr. Deutsch gave Ted a withering look. “Apparently Justin left earlier this evening. I’m not certain what happened to cause him to leave, or to want to use physical force with Mr. Hardy, but he’s been under a lot of stress lately.”
“No shit,” said Ted. “Michael and I have been trying to do what we can, but…”
“It isn’t only Brian’s recovery,” said Dr. Deutsch. “According to Brian’s son, he and Mr. Hardy have been undermining Justin here at the house.”
Ted gaped. “On purpose?”
Dr. Deutsch frowned. “Yes. I do not totally understand the dynamics of the relationship of Brian and Mr. Hardy and Brian’s son, but whatever it is, it must stop. I’ve noticed recently that Brian is not making the progress he should be. He’s tense and nervous and slipping backwards in his grasp of language and emotional control. I’ve also noted that Justin has been looking quite haggard. I advised him to see a therapist to talk about what was bothering him, but he dismissed it out of hand. Obviously, tonight things came to a head. Mr. Hardy called me under the mistaken belief that I’m Brian’s psychiatrist. I am not, although after this debacle, he will probably need one. And his son, as well. As to Mr. Hardy - he needs one, too, preferably one who practices back in California!”
“Amen to that,” mumbled Ted.
“I must leave now,” said Dr. Deutsch. “There’s nothing more I can do here. If you want Brian to go to the hospital, I’m afraid you’ll need to call the police to get him there. Probably in handcuffs!”
Another crash came from upstairs. Then Ted heard Michael yelling. “What the fuck is going on up there?”
“Go up and find out for yourself,” said Dr. Deutsch. “But I suggest you get Justin here as soon as you can. He’s the only one who can get through to Brian at this point. Unless you want him to tear this entire house down!”
Hang on!
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, August 2016
“Ted! Get the fuck over here as fast as you can!”
Ted sat up in bed. “Michael? Is that you? What’s going on? Is your house on fire?”
“I’m not at home,” Michael said. “I’m at Brian’s. Don’t ask questions, just come now!”
“What’s going on?” Blake rolled over and turned on the light. “Is that Michael? What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know,” said Ted. “Something’s up at Brian’s house.”
Blake sighed. “It figures.”
“Michael, you have to calm down and tell me what’s happening,” said Ted. “Speak slowly and clearly.”
“I can’t calm down!” Michael’s voice was sputtering. “Please! Get the fuck over here! Now!”
“But… Michael? Michael!” Ted shook his head. “He hung up. What’s going on over there?”
“What time is it?” Blake squinted at the clock. “Jesus. It’s after midnight. You know how Michael gets hysterical over anything involving Brian. It’s probably nothing.”
“Maybe Brian had another accident,” said Ted.
“Then they’d call 911 and he’d tell you to go to the hospital,” Blake reasoned.
“I have to go.” Ted got out of bed. “Michael’s my best friend and Brian is my boss. Whatever is happening, I better get over there.”
Blake rolled over. “If you have to, then go. But I think you need to step away from all that drama.”
“I know,” said Ted, pulling a clean tee shirt from the drawer. “But I can’t just ignore Michael. And if something really is the matter with Brian…”
“Just go,” said Blake. “And try not to wake me up when you come home. Tomorrow is my first day off this week and I’m planning to sleep in!”
***
The house was all lit up when Ted pulled into the driveway. He recognized Michael’s Honda parked haphazardly next to a large and unfamiliar Mercedes. The front door was ajar.
“Hello? Where is everyone.”
That’s when he heard the crash.
“Son of a bitch!”
Down the stairs came Jimmy Hardy like the hounds of Hell were on his tail. His nose was bleeding. He blundered directly into Ted.
“Mr. Hardy! Are you all right?”
“Do I look all right? Christ! He tried to kill me!”
There was only one person in the house capable of killing anyone, let alone America’s Boy Next Door. “What happened? Where’s Brian?”
“He’s gone nuts!” Jimmy panted. “He… he… he’s dangerous! I always warned Ron that Brian had a fucking screw loose, but Ron would never listen to me!”
Carmel came downstairs, followed by a tall blonde woman.
“Oh! Mr. Jimmy! Are you okay? Your poor nose! Come into the kitchen and I’ll get some ice.” Carmel took Jimmy’s arm and steered him toward the kitchen.
“I warned you, Mr. Hardy,” said the blonde woman. “Whatever you did to him, Brian apparently did not appreciate it.”
“I didn’t do a thing to him, Doc!” Jimmy whimpered. Carmel sat him down at the kitchen table and began to dab at his face with a clean towel. “He’s fucking crazy! You need to call the men in the white coats and have him committed! Ouch! That fucking stings!”
“I’m trying to help you, Mr. Jimmy!” Carmel huffed. “Sit still! Mr. Ted, can you get me some ice, please?”
“Sure.”
Ted took out a handful of ice cubes from the freezer and wrapped them in another towel. Carmel then applied the ice pack to Jimmy’s nose.
“I told you before, Mr. Hardy, that I am not a psychiatrist,” said the blonde woman. “I’m Brian’s neuropsychologist. I direct him in his cognitive therapy. The only reason I came over here at this ungodly hour is that Brian is in trouble and I wanted to assess the situation. If you want to take him to the emergency room at Allegheny General, I’ll alert Dr. Sun that he’s coming in, but at this point everyone needs to calm down. Unless you are planning to call the police and have him arrested for assault?”
“No,” Jimmy moaned. “I’m not going to have him arrested. Can you imagine what would happen if the press got hold of this story? 'TMZ' would be outside the house with cameras by the time the sun came up! You think that’s what I want?”
The blonde shrugged. “I have no clue what you want, Mr. Hardy. But if I were you, I’d get Justin back here and then I would make myself scarce.” There was another crash upstairs. “Before Brian hurts himself.”
“Himself!” Jimmy winced. “What about me?”
“I have a feeling that you have been asking for that punch for quite some time,” said the blonde, raising a carefully tweezed eyebrow. “I’m Dr. Deutsch, by the way,” she said to Ted, offering him a soft hand.
“I’m Ted Schmidt. I work at Kinnetik.”
“Ah, yes. His good friend. Brian has spoken of you. You help with his cognitive exercises.”
“He has? I mean… I try to help as much as I can.”
Dr. Deutsch nodded. “Perhaps they could use you upstairs.” She nudged Ted towards the kitchen door.
“What the hell happened? And where did Justin go?”
“I don’t know,” said Dr. Deutsch. “Probably back to his apartment. He’s not answering his cell, although I’ve left messages and so has his friend Michael.”
“Michael is the one who called me. So I came right over.” Ted scratched his head. “Brian punched Jimmy? Not that Jimmy doesn’t deserve to be punched out, but I thought Justin would be the one to do it!”
Dr. Deutsch gave Ted a withering look. “Apparently Justin left earlier this evening. I’m not certain what happened to cause him to leave, or to want to use physical force with Mr. Hardy, but he’s been under a lot of stress lately.”
“No shit,” said Ted. “Michael and I have been trying to do what we can, but…”
“It isn’t only Brian’s recovery,” said Dr. Deutsch. “According to Brian’s son, he and Mr. Hardy have been undermining Justin here at the house.”
Ted gaped. “On purpose?”
Dr. Deutsch frowned. “Yes. I do not totally understand the dynamics of the relationship of Brian and Mr. Hardy and Brian’s son, but whatever it is, it must stop. I’ve noticed recently that Brian is not making the progress he should be. He’s tense and nervous and slipping backwards in his grasp of language and emotional control. I’ve also noted that Justin has been looking quite haggard. I advised him to see a therapist to talk about what was bothering him, but he dismissed it out of hand. Obviously, tonight things came to a head. Mr. Hardy called me under the mistaken belief that I’m Brian’s psychiatrist. I am not, although after this debacle, he will probably need one. And his son, as well. As to Mr. Hardy - he needs one, too, preferably one who practices back in California!”
“Amen to that,” mumbled Ted.
“I must leave now,” said Dr. Deutsch. “There’s nothing more I can do here. If you want Brian to go to the hospital, I’m afraid you’ll need to call the police to get him there. Probably in handcuffs!”
Another crash came from upstairs. Then Ted heard Michael yelling. “What the fuck is going on up there?”
“Go up and find out for yourself,” said Dr. Deutsch. “But I suggest you get Justin here as soon as you can. He’s the only one who can get through to Brian at this point. Unless you want him to tear this entire house down!”