When I leave the office of Dr. Feinman and go into the waiting room I see an unexpected and unpleasant thing. Dana, all dressed up. I told her not to come here and i’m unspeakably angry. If she had just stayed home and let me compose myself before I saw her I wouldn’t have done what I did. Fortunately the waiting room is almost empty. Other than us there’s only an old man with an oxygen mask that is almost dead.
She smiles and crosses her legs at me. I go over to her and stop and she says, It wasn’t anything at all, was it, sweetie?
What RU doing here, Dana? I say, clenching and unclenching my fists. I told you to stay home. Like that time you told me to, remember?
Well you would’ve gotten hysterical, she says. I wont.
Well i’m just about hysterical myself right now, I say.
Her eyes widen and she touches my hand and she says, Is it…is it bad? I thought…
I grab her by her hair and march her into the hall.
Ouch! She says indignantly. What RU doing?
What I should’ve done a long time ago, I say.
I open the door to the stairwell and push her down the steps. She hits and rolls down the stairs and shrieks and comes to rest on the first landing but doesn’t seem hurt. Well, i’ll fix that. I get her by the hair of the head and slam her face against the wall several times, breaking her nose and trying to make her as ugly as possible because I know what a narcissistic old bitch she is. I stop and sit beside her on the steps.
How’s it feel, Dana? I say softly. Does that hurt? RU scared?
She nods and cries and snivels and squalls and takes out a handkerchief and blows her nose.
We’ll get some ice on that when we get home, I say sweetly.
Erik…Erik, do you hate me?
I sure do.
Why? Harrrk. Honnnk.
What you’ve done to me over the years. How you’ve hurt me.
Yes, she wails, blowing into the handkerchief with elephantine trumpeting. I guess I don’t blame you.
Dana, you will never treat me like that again. I will make sure of that. You getting the picture?
She cries and nods and blows more bloody snot into the lacy hankie.
Good, good. You’re a used up old hag not even a stepfather would want. You’re a dried up lesbo, a freak, damaged goods. But you’re all I have to watch me die and I don’t want to die alone.
Do…do you have cancer?
Yes, Dana. Just the kind I thought. Let’s go home now, shall we?
She nods emphatically and I push her out to the car by the hair.