Hemingway's War
I'm almost done with all my assignments Yes! Here is the last piece that I did for my creative module.
Hemingway’s War with Paranoia
October 1960, New York
‘I can hear Mary on the phone. Is she calling the FBI? No. Why would she need to? They’re already watching the house, I know it. God damnit I can’t think straight. I need a drink’. Ernest slowly clambered to his feet and stumbled towards a battered brown suitcase sitting at the far back of the room. Picking up the walking stick lounging next to the case he turned it upside down and used the head of the walking stick to open up the case. Inside sat several partially empty bottles of alcohol which he, groaning from the pain from his old injuries, picked up one by one and inspected. Finally deciding on his refreshment of choice he uncorked the bottle and took several large gulps of alcohol. “Ah, that’s better” he sighed, shaking his head like a dog trying to get rid of water. “Now, I need to go and find Mary, hear what she’s saying and, no, I can’t run away, there will be people after me, spies, I won’t be able to trust anyone. I can’t trust anyone. They’re all FBI, all out to get me and my finances.”
Gasping in fright Earnest dropped the bottle, wincing as it clunked onto the carpet and expelled its blood red contents. ‘Now they’re sure to know that I’m onto them’ he groaned to himself. Earnest debated for a moment whether or not to clean up the mess he had made. “If I do I might not find out what Mary is up too” he finally decided before turning around and hobbling out of the room. Creeping across the landing Earnest carefully lowered himself down the beige carpeted stairs until he was standing above a blurred vision of Mary and the phone she was using.
“Yes Doctor I do understand I just…I know” Mary groaned. Earnest’s brows came together in puzzlement. Wasn’t she contacting the FBI? Maybe ‘Doctor’ was a code name for one of the organisation’s agents. “I’ll do my best. I’m so nervous though, he hasn’t been the same since last year and he’s only been getting worse”. Ah yes, Earnest mused as he listened to the near hush around him, they were talking about….about when he started to feel ill, as though the world was twisting and turning like some damned roller coaster that he didn’t want to be on and things that he’d known how to do since he was a young man began to be difficult, confusing. They were talking about the beginning of the period in his life where nothing made sense no matter which way he put it. When the first shadows of the FBI began to follow him.
“No don’t do that. You’ll make things worse, I’ll be fine, he won’t hurt me” Mary continued after the person on the other end of the line had presumably stopped talking. ‘What!’ Earnest exploded silently. ‘They’re using my wife, she’s planning on tricking me! I must do something’.
“Alright that Doctor, we’ll see you in Idaho”. Earnest watched her put the phone down and walk away into the kitchen. ‘Now. Now’s your chance Hemingway. You must confront her, find out what the FBI are up too, what their planning to do with you’. Earnest trod gingerly down the remaining stairs, careful not to make a sound. Reaching the bottom of the staircase he peered down the hall way to the kitchen where he could see Mary packing food into a bag. He crept forward, hoping that he would be able to startle Mary into well, what, he wasn’t sure, a confession perhaps, or an apology. ‘Unlikely Hemingway. If she’s being used….oh God if she’s being used I could put her in danger. There could be snipers watching her!’
“Get down!” Earnest bellowed, diving forward and tackling Mary to the kitchen floor. “Are you with the FBI, huh? Are they using you to spy on me?” Earnest questioned, sitting on top of his wife so that she couldn’t escape. Mary squirmed underneath him, her face a circle of sour cheese on the colourful tiles. Eventually she gave up trying to free herself via brute force and turned her head to face him, her eyes glistening like puddles on a pavement. “Oh Earnest no” she murmured softly.
“Who were you calling then?” Earnest barked in reply, refusing to believe that he could be wrong, that his mind had finally tipped over the edge leading him to virtually attack his own beloved wife. “I was calling a Doctor. He has nothing to do with the FBI. His name is Doctor George Saviers, he’s an old acquaintance of mine and a good man. He can help you. He can get you better, get rid of all those paranoid thoughts you’ve been having and turn you back into the man you once were, the man I fell in love with.”
Earnest let go of Mary’s arms and slowly clambered off her to sit with his back against the furthest cupboard. He felt scared, more scared than he’d ever been in his entire life, and he was tired. The effects of the alcohol were beginning to seep out of his system leaving him more confused and exhausted than he had been when he first heard Mary making the phone call. “What’s he going to do to me” he asked dully, trying to distract himself from the fear rising up inside of him. Mary scooted over and took his hands in hers with a gentle smile that Earnest was sure he didn’t deserve.
“Just talk, Saviers told me that he’s willing to host talking therapy sessions with you and if that doesn’t make things better then we’ll look at alternative treatments, together.” Earnest swallowed, he knew what ‘alternative treatment’ was a euphuism for, electroconvulsive therapy, but if he was to regain his mind he might have to put himself through hell first Earnest reasoned. “Okay, okay. Let’s go then, on a hunt for a madman’s mind” he smiled.
Published 23rd May 2017