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It was Liam. He framed me.
“No, George. You are Liam.”
They all say this. But Liam is young and…different. It doesn’t make any sense. It probably doesn’t even matter.
I want to see my wife.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you write to her instead? I’ll talk to her doctors, and if it makes sense, maybe you can exchange letters.”
Even though he is lying, I write. I write and I write and I write. It takes a very long time, but once my fingers start, they don’t stop. No matter how long it takes, I have to tell Eve the story. I need her to know that I’m sorry I couldn’t read her the rest of it. I’m sorry I c
ouldn’t finish. I tell her why. Because I never wanted it to end.
Much to my amazement, the doctor does come back. He brings me books. Interesting books. Novels I’ve read, but many I haven’t. He says he’s come to help me finish my story. But then, that’s what they all say.
He reads my words to Eve.
One day, he says. “Is that what you fear, George? Death? Losing everything? Is that why you created Liam?”
I did not create Liam. He just is.
“Nothing really ends though, does it?” the doctor says.
I don’t know. When you rule things out you limit your focus.
“I’ve heard that somewhere before. Maybe in one of your books.”
Probably.
“Eve says you were seeing another woman. That you saw lots of women. But that you always killed them. She admits to helping you plan up your crimes. She thought it was for your books. Until she realized they were coming true.”
Eve is sick.
“Did this start after the death of your children? Trauma can have profound effects.”
It started when I met Liam.
“It can also be brought on by extreme stress. Were you under a lot of stress? You had to have been.”
I don’t know.
“You were about to go bankrupt and lose your home. Not only were you having financial problems, but you were struggling to care for your wife. Your publisher was about to take you to court…”
Yes.
“We believe you created Liam to help you compensate.”
Trying to make a crazy person understand they’re crazy is a losing game. Believe me, I know.
You can’t understand crazy, it just is. I don’t type this. It would be disrespectful to his profession. And he holds the keys to a lot of things. My connection to Eve and my reading material being a couple of important ones. Instead I write, we want to assign motives to things but we can’t. What we would do in any given situation is not necessarily what someone else would do. Especially not a crazy person.
“So what you’re saying, George, is you’re not meant to be understood.”
Maybe nothing is.
“But that doesn’t stop us from trying. It’s normal and it’s healthy to seek answers.”
Answers change. Nothing is static.
