Cry Havoc

'Ahh, right,' Gail nodded dreamily. 'Barring any unforeseen disasters, we'll probably get to him tomorrow. I can't cut him for you though. I have to chain myself to the desk in the morning, then have lunch with Sartoris, and there's the Health Department meeting after that. Isn't your Colonel just a slice and dice?'

'Don't know.'

Frank explained about Mother Love, after which Gail murmured through her drowsiness, 'She sounds nasty. You should be careful.'

'Don't tell me you believe in that sort of hocus-pocus.'

'Well, I do.'

Frank waited for the punch line. When it didn't come she craned her head to see if Gail was joking.

'You serious?'

'I just think you should be careful. You could be getting into something much bigger than you think.'

Frank laughed, 'You sound like Jill. She's terrified of all that mumbo-jumbo. Me? I'm pretty confident I can hold my own against an old woman with dead cats and graveyard dirt.'

'Laugh now, but still, watch your back. Let's go to bed.'

'Wait a sec. You're a medical doctor. A rational, twentieth-century woman trained in scientific method and you're telling me you believe in the Psychic Hotline?'

In a fairly decent Jamaican accent Frank imitated the TV commercial, saying, 'Call now, fuh yuh free readin'.'

Gail scowled. 'All I'm saying is that if someone's truly intent on hurting you, they can. That's all.'

'How do you figure? Mother Love's going to make a doll with blonde hair, dress it in a miniature Armani suit and stick pins in it?'

'Who knows? Not that the pins in the doll would work but the intent she harnesses might.'

'I'm not tracking.'

'All I'm saying is don't be too cocky. There's energy in the world —some of it's positive, some of it's negative—and I think it can be channeled for good or bad purposes.'

'So you think she can put a spell on me? Turn me into a toad?'

'Don't be silly. I just think she can tap into negative energy and apply it with mal intent. Good God, don't we see enough of that every day?'

'I don't think what I see on the street is evil. I think it's stupidity. People get carried away by greed and jealousy. Anger. They're not evil, just ignorant. Or chemically imbalanced.' She shrugged.

'What about a guy like Delamore?'

Frank flinched at the name, but quickly rationalized, 'He's not evil. He's sick. He didn't develop normally. At some point kids learn compassion, but if they're never taught it, then they grow up to be quote/unquote evil. I think what you call evil is a profound developmental and/or physiological failure. The Delamores never learn how to relate to anyone other than themselves.'

'Do you deny that evil exists?'

'Why do I feel like I'm being cross-examined?'

'Do you?'

Concealing her exasperation Frank answered, 'Yeah. I don't believe Satan's sitting in a fiery cave at the center of the earth eating lost souls any more than he's hangin' out at the corner of Florence and Normandie.'

'Do you deny the existence of good?'

'Yeah. Good is just like evil. If a child is treated well, and taught goodness, then he or she grows up to do good things. They get perks and rewards and feedback that encourages the positive behavior just like a neglected child creates the sick perks and feedbacks that keep him in his loop. It's all they know. Nice, not nice, it's all learned behavior.'

Gail swung her feet off the lounge chair to turn and face Frank.

'What about kids like that eleven-year-old who disemboweled his baby sister? By all accounts he came from a wonderful, loving home.'

'Organic,' Frank explained, tapping her temple. 'Something didn't come out right as he was developing. The right gene didn't get turned on. Or off.'

'What about luck? You're always saying you need some luck on a case. How do you explain that?'

'Luck is just. .. circumstance and timing. A chain of events that can turn out well or badly. Besides, how'd we get off on this theosophical debate? I thought you wanted to go to bed.'

'I do,' Gail answered, 'but humor me. I'm curious to know where you stand on all this.'

'I stand deeply, madly, head-over-heels, insanely crazy about you. That's where I stand,' Frank declared emphatically. She tried pulling Gail up, but the doc wouldn't budge.

'No really. I want to know.'

'Know what?' Frank weaseled.

'You really don't believe there's any sort of force or power in the universe, do you?'

'No. I don't.'

'You can't even admit it's a possibility?'

'I suppose it could be. Just seems that if there is something somebody would have proved it or seen it by now.'

'What would God look like to you?'

'God? He's a guy in a white bathrobe with a long beard who sits around with his feet up reading Playboys all day. Every now and then he looks down and laughs at all the tiny people scurrying around beneath him, blowing each other up in his name. He gets a good chuckle out of that then goes back to his Playboy. Tells a curvaceous angel to bring him another beer and a fresh cigar.'

Gail smirked. 'It sounds like your god's Hugh Hefner.'

'Not my god,' Frank countered. 'That's the dude you all believe in.'

'And you have no dude?' Gail persisted.

' 'Fraid not. There's just what I touch and feel today. And right now I'm feeling you and I'd like to go fall asleep with my arms around you.'

'You really don't believe in anything?'

'Just you,' Frank said. She tried to kiss the top of Gail's head, but the doc reared back.

'I find that so sad. That you don't believe in something.'

'I believe in hard work and trying to make a difference while we're here.'

'But then what? What happens when you die?'

'Then I'm dead. End of story. Cleared case.'

'What about your soul?'

'Haven't you noticed?' Frank joked. 'Ain't got no soul. That's why I can't dance.'

'Tell me you believe you have a soul.'

'I believe I have a soul,' Frank dutifully repeated.

Gail studied her lover.

'You don't, do you?'

'Nope. I'm just blood and guts and when my heart stops pumping'—Frank spread her hands—'Game over.'

'That's the saddest thing I've ever heard,' Gail said.

'Aw, Gay, don't get all melodramatic on me.'

'I'm not. I mean I know people don't believe in God, but it just seems .. . lonely. So disconnected from everything else around you. So unrelated.'

'We're all the same species, with the same problems,' Frank offered. 'We all have that in common.'

'That's human.' Gail waved her off. 'Human concerns are so insignificant in light of the bigger picture.'

'And what's the bigger picture? The World According to Gail,' Frank disparaged.

'Look at the stars,' the doc retorted. 'They've seen centuries come and go. They've witnessed billions of us coming and going, yet they persist. How can you look at a star and not believe in God? Or oak trees. The ones on your street were there when Cortez came through. He and his men are all dead now but the trees are still there.