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“On whose authority did you make that decision? If either of you had been seriously injured—”
Diomedes interrupted. “Please don’t let’s get dramatic. Thankfully neither was hurt.” He gestured at me dismissively. “A few scratches are hardly grounds for a court-martial.”
Stephanie pulled a face. “I don’t think jokes are really appropriate, Professor. I really don’t.” “Who’s joking?” Diomedes turned to me. “I’m deadly serious. Tell us, Theo. What happened?”
I felt all their eyes on me; I addressed myself to Diomedes. I chose my words carefully. “Well, she
attacked me. That’s what happened.”
“That much is obvious. But why? I take it was unprovoked?”
“Yes. At least, consciously.”
“And unconsciously?”
“Well, obviously Alicia was reacting to me on some level. I believe it shows us how much she
wants to communicate.”
Christian laughed. “You call that communication?”
“Yes, I do. Rage is a powerful communication. The other patients—the zombies who just sit there,
vacant, empty—they’ve given up. Alicia hasn’t. Her attack tells us something she can’t articulate directly—about her pain, her desperation, her anguish. She was telling me not to give up on her. Not yet.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “A less poetic interpretation might be that she was off her meds and out of her mind.” He turned to Diomedes. “I told you this would happen, Professor. I warned you about lowering the dose.”
“Really, Christian?” I said. “I thought it was your idea.”
Christian dismissed me with a roll of his eyes. He was a psychiatrist through and through, I thought. By that I mean psychiatrists tend to be wary of psychodynamic thinking. They favor a more biological, chemical, and, above all, practical approach—such as the cup of pills Alicia was handed at every meal. Christian’s unfriendly, narrow gaze told me that there was nothing I could contribute.
Diomedes, however, eyed me more thoughtfully. “It hasn’t put you off, Theo, what happened?”
I shook my head. “On the contrary, I’m encouraged.”
Diomedes nodded, looking pleased. “Good. I agree, such an intense reaction to you is certainly
worth investigating. I think you should keep going.”
At this Stephanie could restrain herself no longer. “That’s absolutely out of the question.” Diomedes kept talking as if she hadn’t spoken. He kept looking at me. “You think you can get her
to talk?”
Before I could reply, a voice said from behind me, “I believe he can, yes.”
It was Indira. I’d almost forgotten she was there. I turned around.
“And in a way,” Indira said, “Alicia has begun to talk. She’s communicating through Theo—he is
her advocate. It’s already happening.”
Diomedes nodded. He looked pensive for a moment. I knew what was on his mind—Alicia
Berenson was a famous patient, and a powerful bargaining tool with the Trust. If we could make demonstrable progress with her, we’d have a much stronger hand in saving the Grove from closure.
“How long to see results?” Diomedes asked.
“I can’t answer that,” I said. “You know that as well as I do. It takes as long as it takes. Six