The Eumenide
by H.G. Stratmann
Illustration by Anthony Bari
I, the mind of the past, to be driven under the ground out cast, like dirt! The wind I breathe is fury and utter hate.
“Murderer! Baby killer!”
Her eyes blazing with rage, the woman with streaming gray hair curled her hands threateningly into claws and flew at them. Reflexively, Anna threw up her arms to protect herself. Then she remembered it was the young woman next to her who was being attacked.
Two burly policemen grabbed the gray-haired woman just as she was about to pounce on Consuelo. They wrestled the woman to the floor, avoiding the sharp fingernails flailing at their eyes, and snapped a pair of handcuffs on her.
Roy Krueger, Consuelo’s lawyer, waddled out of the meeting room from which his client and Anna had just emerged. He shook his head as the officers lifted the woman to a standing position. “Damn! I knew it was a mistake to let that bitch come here! She was being too reasonable, telling me she’d just wait outside and not testify against you to the parole board!”
Krueger turned to Consuelo. “At least now we can lock her up on an assault charge, so she can’t try to hurt you again—”
“No!” Consuelo shouted. She was staring at the now strangely passive woman held by the two officers. Anna noticed Consuelo was trembling. From fear? Anxiety? Hard to say—even for a psychiatrist.
Consuelo pleaded, “Let her go!”
“What?” Krueger stared at her, his pudgy perspiring face flushed in disbelief. “If they hadn’t stopped her she’d have strangled you! If they let her go she’ll try again!”
“No, she won’t. She’d never hurt me. Would you?”
The gray-haired woman glared at Consuelo, and said nothing.
Consuelo turned to Anna. “Please, Dr. Young, make them let her go!”
Anna looked quizzically at Krueger, who shrugged his shoulders. She said to Consuelo, “Do you really want them to let her go? After you’re released, she might try to hurt you again.”
“No, she wouldn’t do that. I’m sure she wouldn’t!” Consuelo’s words and the innocent expression on her face reflected the simple faith of a child.
Krueger frowned. “Well, if that’s what you want, it’s your funeral!” He nodded to the officers. The prisoner stood immobile, glaring at Consuelo, as the policemen cautiously relaxed their grip and removed her handcuffs. Slowly, defiantly, the woman raised her hands to smooth her tangled gray hair. Then, head held high, she silently turned on her heel and left.
Consuelo looked at Anna, her face showing hurt and bewilderment. “Why does she hate me so much?”
You don’t understand, do you? Anna shook her head. Of course you don’t. We made sure of that.
The policemen moved back to Consuelo, who looked small and fragile in her gray prison uniform. At times like this Anna had to force herself to stay emotionally detached and professional. And keep reminding herself what this childlike young woman was capable of. No, Anna corrected herself, she had been capable of doing those things. Now, Consuelo was well. She couldn’t do them anymore.
As the officers led Consuelo away, she smiled at Anna and said, “See you in a few days!”
Krueger moved closer to Anna. His head shook so hard sweat flew off his face onto her crisp white blouse. “Amazing,” he said. “The things you see if you live long enough.”
The lawyer heaved his massive buttocks onto one of the chairs in the now empty waiting room. Anna sat down a few meters away. During her career she’d worked with many lawyers. Contrary to popular opinion, especially among her fellow physicians, most of them seemed like relatively decent human beings. A few, though, made her want to take a long bath after being in the same room with them.
Even after working with him all these months, she still wasn’t sure which category to put Krueger in.
The latter said, “Doc, do you really want to go through with this?”
“That’s what I just told the parole board.”
“Yeah, I know.” The pitch of his voice rose to a sarcastic, singsong falsetto. “ ‘I’m so confident the treatment was successful I’m willing to supervise and take responsibility for Consuelo myself.’ ” Then, in his usual bass, “Have to admit, that was a great performance you gave. Had the parole board eating out of your hand. Couldn’t have done better myself.”
Krueger snorted. “Of course, I’m not the one who might get murdered in my sleep.”
“Consuelo’s not dangerous anymore! She’s cured!”
“Sure. Ain’t modern medicine wonderful.”
Anna frowned at him. “If I didn’t believe it, do you think I’d put myself at risk?”
Krueger shrugged. “I’m sure you think your ‘experiment’ worked. Question is, did you brainwash her—or did she brainwash you?”
“It’s not brainwashing! I wish people would stop using that word!” A voice in Anna’s head whispered, He’s goading you. More calmly, “Consuelo was born with a subtle genetic defect that caused parts of her brain dealing with behavior and feelings to be abnormal. Critical brain cells were either overly sensitive or didn’t react enough to neurotransmitters that modulate anger and aggression. That neuropsychiatric defect gave her a poor capacity to deal with ‘abandonment’ by someone she loved and trusted. Her response in those situations was to lash out violently at the person she perceived as abandoning her.”
Krueger snorted. “Yeah, she was good at ‘lashing out’!”
“The point is, her underlying problem was biological in nature. By using this new treatment, we were able to correct it, and make the serotonergic, noradrenergic, and other systems in her brain work properly. Now, she’s far less likely than the ‘average’ person to be violent with other people.”
Krueger shook his head skeptically. “I’ve been in the criminal justice system for over thirty-five years. Seen too many cases of ‘not guilty by reason of insanity’ go into a loony bin for a while, come out after one of you shrinks said they’re ‘cured’—and then bounce back to court after they sliced-and-diced some more innocent people.” “But Consuelo won’t do that! Criminally violent behavior can be due to antisocial personality disorder, schizophrenia, or other central nervous system abnormalities different from the one she had. The neurological and biochemical reasons for those disorders are still poorly understood. Even with the best available therapy, recidivism is common in those patients. In Consuelo’s case, though, we discovered what biological defect caused her actions—and how to correct it. Her cure is permanent!”
“If you’re so sure your treatment worked, why did you wipe out her memories of what she did?”
“Consuelo ‘knows’ what she did. People keep reminding her of it. She just doesn’t remember doing it. We thought that eliminating those memories and the reactive emotions attached to them would be a good adjunct to her primary treatment. I’m certain she’s no longer a danger to others, that even under the greatest stress she won’t turn her feelings violently outward anymore. However, since she now has a normal capacity for empathy and remorse, she’s still capable of self-destructive acts. If she were to dwell too much on what she did, if she could run over every detail of it in her mind again and again, she might feel so guilty she’d be tempted to harm herself.”
“Well, considering what she did, maybe she should feel guilty!” Krueger shrugged. “But what do I know. I’m just a lawyer. You doctors are the ones with all the answers. Just to be on the safe side, though, I’ll talk with the parole board again next month. If Consuelo hasn’t killed anybody or burned down your neighborhood by then, maybe I can get them to treat her like a standard parolee. Give her to a regular parole officer, who doesn’t have to live with her.”