The Doppler Affect: A free side story (part II)
Excerpts from the diary of Dr. Melvin Meneike
June 1st, 2006 – Unfortunately, the excitement of starting my own practice had worn off after the first week. Well, it would have been much better if most of my time hadn’t been spent waiting for my secretary to announce the arrival of a new client. When she did buzz, it was usually to tell me she was going to lunch. The few clients that did show up were just needing someone to talk to, and at eighty dollars and hour I was willing to listen. But tonight I am again wide awake, riddled with an excitement I shouldn’t encourage. For today, my first visitor came back. He barged in while I was with my only consistent patient. At that time I had to decide between a woman with depression issues that would take years to fix (and cost enough money to buy a new car), or a crazed man who might never show up again.
“Ms. Lardin, can you think back to the time period when you first started to feel that your life—“
The office door burst open, and in entered the beefy man. He had grown a mustache since our last encounter, and was scratching it with one hand while the other was being pulled on by my middle-aged secretary.
“I’m sorry to barge in, doc. I need to talk,” begged the man before he dropped to his knees and shut out the world by closing his eyes.
“Sir, Dr. Meneike’s appointment will be over in fifteen minutes. After that he’s free the rest of the day,” pleaded my secretary.
I wish she hadn’t pointed out my lack of clients.
“What the hell?” replied Ms. Lardin as she shot up from my couch. She stood over the man, all five foot of her.
I feared I would have to take action, but luckily my usual indecisiveness let things play out.
The man raised and overextended his large frame, looking down upon my angry patient. “You have no idea what I’m going through. Why don’t you give your upscale marital problems a rest, while doc deals with something way more serious?”
Ms. Lardin seemed to be a diminutive spinster, but I knew I misjudged her when I saw her closed fist smack against the man’s eye. He spun to the side from the impact and then hunched over before groping his stinging eye hole.
“Sweet Jesus! Oh my God, that hurt,” shouted the man.
I was amazed that Ms. Lardin had been able to hit the tall man in the face.
“Wow, I feel better,” said Ms. Lardin as she walked out of the room. “I’ll definitely be back next week, Dr. Meineke. Maybe you can have this buffoon barge in again?”
I gently motioned for my secretary to shut the door, waiting until she did so before walking toward the hunched over man.
“Are you OK?” I asked, wishing we could forego the pleasantries and launch straight into another crazed conversation.
“Yeah. I deserved it.” He stood, displaying the fresh shiner while chuckling. “That woman could hit.”
I walked back to my note-taking chair and sat down, observing that the man’s clothes seemed a little loose. “Have you been losing weight?”
He looked down at his stomach, then felt between his sweaty neck and stained shirt color. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Haven’t eaten a lot lately. Haven’t eaten since I tracked down the fake David. He didn’t see me, but I got fingerprints off his car door.”
“I don’t even know your name. I can’t help you if—“
“Karl, Karl Gillan. OK?” He waited for my nod before proceeding. “Anyway, the fingerprints matched the dead man. Do you know the odds? One is sixty-some billion. I looked it up.”
I kept quiet as Karl walked over to the leather couch. He went to sit down but stopped as his phone buzzed. He reached into his front pocket and pulled out an oversized phone. His face went white as he whispered the words of a text message. “Where are you, Karl? We need to talk.”
“Is it David?”
“Yeah, doc. Or whatever is impersonating David.” He stared through me, just like last time. “Before the real David died, he told me about a lab in San Diego that was contracted by the government. He said there was more to it. Something unnatural. And that a woman he was dating told him about it.”
“Unnatural?”
Karl’s phone buzzed again. This time he didn’t look at it, instead he quietly walked out of my office.
I heard my secretary engage him in a short conversation before the door’s ringer chimed. Afterward, she walked into my office with a smile spreading across her face.
“I gave him my cell number. He’ll call. In fact, I’m betting we’ll have our first date tonight.” A glimmer of green sparks flickered in her brown eyes before she turned away.
“Yes, my maestra,” I replied. I hoped I had pleased her. We might have found the rogue doppelganger.
June 1st, 2006 – Unfortunately, the excitement of starting my own practice had worn off after the first week. Well, it would have been much better if most of my time hadn’t been spent waiting for my secretary to announce the arrival of a new client. When she did buzz, it was usually to tell me she was going to lunch. The few clients that did show up were just needing someone to talk to, and at eighty dollars and hour I was willing to listen. But tonight I am again wide awake, riddled with an excitement I shouldn’t encourage. For today, my first visitor came back. He barged in while I was with my only consistent patient. At that time I had to decide between a woman with depression issues that would take years to fix (and cost enough money to buy a new car), or a crazed man who might never show up again.
“Ms. Lardin, can you think back to the time period when you first started to feel that your life—“
The office door burst open, and in entered the beefy man. He had grown a mustache since our last encounter, and was scratching it with one hand while the other was being pulled on by my middle-aged secretary.
“I’m sorry to barge in, doc. I need to talk,” begged the man before he dropped to his knees and shut out the world by closing his eyes.
“Sir, Dr. Meneike’s appointment will be over in fifteen minutes. After that he’s free the rest of the day,” pleaded my secretary.
I wish she hadn’t pointed out my lack of clients.
“What the hell?” replied Ms. Lardin as she shot up from my couch. She stood over the man, all five foot of her.
I feared I would have to take action, but luckily my usual indecisiveness let things play out.
The man raised and overextended his large frame, looking down upon my angry patient. “You have no idea what I’m going through. Why don’t you give your upscale marital problems a rest, while doc deals with something way more serious?”
Ms. Lardin seemed to be a diminutive spinster, but I knew I misjudged her when I saw her closed fist smack against the man’s eye. He spun to the side from the impact and then hunched over before groping his stinging eye hole.
“Sweet Jesus! Oh my God, that hurt,” shouted the man.
I was amazed that Ms. Lardin had been able to hit the tall man in the face.
“Wow, I feel better,” said Ms. Lardin as she walked out of the room. “I’ll definitely be back next week, Dr. Meineke. Maybe you can have this buffoon barge in again?”
I gently motioned for my secretary to shut the door, waiting until she did so before walking toward the hunched over man.
“Are you OK?” I asked, wishing we could forego the pleasantries and launch straight into another crazed conversation.
“Yeah. I deserved it.” He stood, displaying the fresh shiner while chuckling. “That woman could hit.”
I walked back to my note-taking chair and sat down, observing that the man’s clothes seemed a little loose. “Have you been losing weight?”
He looked down at his stomach, then felt between his sweaty neck and stained shirt color. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Haven’t eaten a lot lately. Haven’t eaten since I tracked down the fake David. He didn’t see me, but I got fingerprints off his car door.”
“I don’t even know your name. I can’t help you if—“
“Karl, Karl Gillan. OK?” He waited for my nod before proceeding. “Anyway, the fingerprints matched the dead man. Do you know the odds? One is sixty-some billion. I looked it up.”
I kept quiet as Karl walked over to the leather couch. He went to sit down but stopped as his phone buzzed. He reached into his front pocket and pulled out an oversized phone. His face went white as he whispered the words of a text message. “Where are you, Karl? We need to talk.”
“Is it David?”
“Yeah, doc. Or whatever is impersonating David.” He stared through me, just like last time. “Before the real David died, he told me about a lab in San Diego that was contracted by the government. He said there was more to it. Something unnatural. And that a woman he was dating told him about it.”
“Unnatural?”
Karl’s phone buzzed again. This time he didn’t look at it, instead he quietly walked out of my office.
I heard my secretary engage him in a short conversation before the door’s ringer chimed. Afterward, she walked into my office with a smile spreading across her face.
“I gave him my cell number. He’ll call. In fact, I’m betting we’ll have our first date tonight.” A glimmer of green sparks flickered in her brown eyes before she turned away.
“Yes, my maestra,” I replied. I hoped I had pleased her. We might have found the rogue doppelganger.
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