took a few deep breaths and tried to relax.
He had more assets on the outside, of course, but at the moment, he had no access to that world. There were clothes out there and money, and he was going to need those things.
The door opened and the two men who had escorted him to the room stepped inside.
“Medication time,” one of them said, holding up a small paper cup and a cup of water.
“What kind of medication?” Dink asked.
“Just something to relax you,” the man said.
“I’m perfectly relaxed,” Dink said. “Please tell the doctor I don’t need to be medicated. Tell him I’ll be cooperative.”
“I’ll be sure and mention that to him,” the man said, “but right now, you have to take your medication.”
“I really don’t-”
“You want us to help you get it down?” the man said. Apparently, the other one never spoke.
“All right,” Dink said, “I’ll take it.”
“That’s a good boy,” the man said, handing him both cups.
Dink looked at the large pill inside. He swallowed it, and chased it with the water.
“Good boy!” the man said. “Everything’s going to be fine now. The doctor will be here in a few minutes.” They left.
Dink immediately put to work a skill that had served him well in the past. He went into the bathroom, stuck a finger down his throat, and vomited the pill into the toilet.
“Fuck you all,” he said aloud, then he went and sat down on the bed again.
The door opened, and a middle-aged man in a white coat carrying a clipboard came into the room. “Good afternoon,” he said, “I’m Dr. Morton.”
“Good afternoon, Doctor,” Dink replied.
The doctor pulled up the chair and sat down. “Now, let’s have a little orientation,” he said. “Oh, are you feeling the medication yet?”
“I’m feeling relaxed,” Dink replied.
“Good. Now first of all, you are no longer a patient in the facility where you’ve been living and were treated. It was deemed by the people who were working with you that you were pretending to cooperate, just so that you could get out.”
Dink nodded. “I’m afraid that’s true,” he said. “But I want you to know that I understand that I’m not a well person, and I want to do everything I can to get well.”
“That’s a good attitude, if you’re not lying,” the doctor said. “The first thing that you’re going to have to learn is to be scrupulously honest with the people who treat you. They all have a great deal of experience with being lied to, so do yourself a favor and don’t lie to them.”
“Do you mind if I lie down, Doctor?” Dink asked.
“Yes, I mind, I’m not through yet. When I’m through, you can lie down if you want to.”
“All right.” Dink decided to be polite but not to try to sell this guy anything, just appear to go along. Only going along could get him the things he needed to get out of there, and he had no intention of spending one more day there than necessary.
36
Stone sat on his kitchen sofa and waited for Marla to appear from across the garden. It was to be their first evening together since her show had opened, and she seemed to prefer dining at his house to going out.
She rapped on the garden door and let herself in. He rose to greet her and got a kiss on the corner of his mouth for his effort.
“What can I get you to drink?” he asked.
“I think I’ll try some of your bourbon.”
Stone poured two Knob Creeks, and they sat down on the sofa. “So, is the show finally wrinkle-free?”
“There will always be ironing to do, but I had to make myself stop going to performances. I think we’re in for a good run. The advance ticket sales were light, but that’s picked up a lot since the reviews came in.”
“You look more relaxed,” Stone said.
“Relieved is more like it. Also, there’s always a letdown after a show opens and there’s nothing else for me to do.” She took a sip of her bourbon. “This is good,” she said.
“Were you going to say something else?”
“Well…”
This is where she ’ s going to tell me there ’ s another man, he thought.
“I have something of a problem.”
“Can I help?”
“I need some advice, that’s all.”
“Advice is what I do, mostly.”
“There’s this man.”
“Uh-oh. I was afraid of that.”
“No, I’m not dumping you.”
“Now I ’ m relieved.”
“I had a few dates with this guy a while back. It was nothing serious-at least, not to me.”
“But he took it seriously?”
“He seemed to. Then I started rehearsals for the show, and I used that as an excuse not to accept any more dates with him. Then, without my knowledge, he sought out our producer and invested some money in the show, apparently so he could attend some rehearsals and see me.”
“Sounds like it was a good investment. He should be pleased.”
“Yes, but now that the show has opened, he’s started a new campaign to see me. Flowers and gifts arrive, and the gifts were embarrassingly expensive, so I sent them back to him. I also wrote him a tactful letter explaining that, while I thought he was a nice fellow, I didn’t want to see him anymore.”
“That would have been my first piece of advice,” Stone said. “How did he take it?”
“Badly,” she said. “He called this afternoon and was very angry. How could I string him along? I didn’t. I finally said I wasn’t listening anymore, and not to call me anymore, then I hung up-right after he threatened me.”
“Tell me exactly what he said.”
“He said that I would soon learn that women don’t get away with ill-treating him, that I would regret it.”
“All right,” Stone said, “it’s time for your attorney to write the next letter.”
“I don’t have an attorney.”
“You do now,” Stone said. He picked up a pad and got out his pen. “What’s his name?”
“Ed Abney.”
“What does he do?”
“He has a publicity agency, specializing in Broadway and off-Broadway shows and theater people. He seems to be pretty successful.”
“What’s the name of the agency?”
“Bright Lights, Ink. He has offices on Eighth Avenue-I don’t know the number.”
“I’ll get the address and have a letter hand-delivered tomorrow morning.”
“What are you going to say in the letter?”
“That Ms. Marla Rocker would not like to see him or hear from him again, and that any further advances or gifts from him would be unwelcome, and that any further communication must be through your attorney.”
“And what if it doesn’t work?”
“Then we go to a TRO, a temporary restraining order.”
“Will that work?”
