Ramble – Chapter 3

The Shrink Disappears

As Livingston County Hospital administrator Dr. Sara Hawke promised, Jack had an appointment with a psychologist, Dr. Noreen Nymfome of Brasselin, Waxe, and Nymfome Psychology Services. Within a week of his visit with her, she disappeared.  

Peter Donglen, Chillicothe’s lone police detective, was assigned to her case. When he saw a photograph of her, he couldn’t help but think she looked like an older Doris Day. He went to her office and interviewed everyone, and they all expressed shock at her disappearance. All his other leads came to dead ends. She had few friends and no relatives. He obtained a search warrant for her apartment from his drinking buddy Judge Krupt, who never turned his requests down. 

Other than a bookcase with some medical books and Elvis Presley Graceland memorabilia on the top shelf and a framed photo of Elvis on her bedstand, her apartment was unremarkable.  The drawer on her bedstand did have an impressive array of dildos.  

He found a small file cabinet in her closet where he came a across an expandable folder titled P&C which he took to mean Private and Confidential. As he went through the file, it became apparent that each entry was an informal observation of a meeting with a client. At the top of a few of the more intriguing ones, she scrawled “Novel?” Interesting and probably unethical to use a client visit for literary pursuits, but that wasn’t his job – his job was to find her. One entry had been filed just the week before her disappearance. It had a mysterious ending – “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”  He read it again. 

“Novel? 

For My Eyes Only 

Today’s was such an unusual session, unlike any before, with a Mr. Jack Lack. His hospital files indicated speech abnormalities and an unusual case of priapism. I was glad I had been informed of the erection issues as it was quite noticeable when he came in. Started session with standard question: how are you feeling? Whereupon he started singing “Feelings”, the whole song, in a voice that sounded just like Elvis. I must admit I swooned a bit but fortunately regained my professional composure. When he finished, I asked him how it made him feel singing that song and why it had such meaning to him. Whereupon he sang the whole song again, sounding again just like Elvis. I couldn’t resist a peek at his erection. I had to fight the urge to throw my panties at him. When I stood up to start doing just that, I suddenly came to my senses, cut session short and cancelled all other appointments for the day. Must immediately make an appointment with my own therapist, then call my ex-boyfriend. Maybe I’m not cut out for this.” 

Detective Donglen made a note to contact a Mr. Jack Lack. 

When Jack opened the front door after the doorbell rang, a man in a fedora and a rumpled gray suit presented a badge, said he was Police Detective Peter Donglen, and could he speak with him? He made a mental note to ignore the rather obvious erection. 

“Oh sure!” Jack replied, tying the sash around his checkered robe, delighted to have some company. “You know, I was just thinking about that old show Dragnet, the one with Sgt. Joe Friday where he’d always tell some hysterical lady in a print dress ‘Just the facts, ma’am, just the facts’ but it was hard to know it was him talking because his lips barely moved and darn if she’d just look at him and think this is just about the most boring guy I ever met and to get away from him, she’d tell him just the facts and he’d always solve the case! Say, did you know Perry Mason only lost one case? He always got some man or woman on the witness stand to break down and start crying and confess, but this one time…” 

Detective Donglen saw a chance and jumped in. “Yes, that was The Case of the Deadly Verdict. Speaking of facts, I’m here like Sgt. Joe Friday, looking for just the facts, sir. I’m here on a missing person case, a Dr. Noreen Nymfome. You had an appointment with her just before she went missing. Did you notice anything strange about her behavior during the session?” 

Jack frowned and said, “Dr. Nymfome? Oh, yeah. She asked me how I was feeling so I sang that song to her. Would you like to hear it? ‘Feelings, nothing more than feelings, trying to forget my …” 

“Um, no, that’s ok.” Damn if the doctor wasn’t right – he did sound just like Elvis Presley. He remembered Elvis’ photograph on her bedside table. 

“You know what?” Jack asked. “Like there’s these detective shows like CSI, that stands for Crime Scene Investigations, and doctor shows like Dr. House, and lawyer shows like Matlock but never shows about psychologists? Oh wait, there was The Bob Newhart Show, but mostly he just mumbled to his patients and read books in bed with his wife Suzanne Pleshette. Tell me. If you were in bed with Suzanne Pleshette, do you think you’d reading a book? Anyway, his patients never laid on the couch like they did with Freud.  See what I mean I mean think about it, Freud played games with games with his patients like he says blob and you say splat, and he says dreams and you say wet …” 

“Mr. Lack, please, my time is limited. After you finished the song, what did she say or do? 

“Well, she asked why I did I sing that, how did I feel about it. So, I started singing it again. Here, I’ll pick up where I left off, ‘Feelings, for all my life I’ll feel it, I wish I’d never met you, girl, you’ll…” 

“OKAY! I get it. Did you finish the song again?” 

“Yes.” 

“Incredible! What did she do then?” 

“She stood up suddenly and said this session is over even though I’d only been there about ten, fifteen minutes. She showed me to the door, but odd thing is she kept walking with me for a while, never looking at me, never saying anything, even left the building with me, just kept walking, got in her bright red classic MG Midget and took off. Makes me think about the time Dr. House lost a patient, the only one that ever croaked on him, and he went to his office and closed the door and started crying, I mean just blubbering, and then called his staff in and started talking about the meaning of life, or the lack thereof, and …” 

“Mr Lack, once again, please. Try to stay focused.” 

“Oh, ok. Sorry. Where were we? Oh, Dr. Nymfome. Actually, I couldn’t help but think she looked like Doris Days in her forties, maybe. Doris Days starred in all these movies with Rock Hudson and they were supposed be all lovey-dovey but really he, Rock Hudson, the actor that is, was actually gay so it was probably hard for him to kiss her and make it seem real. Also, Gomer Pyle was gay, actually the actor Jim Nabors who was always saying SHA-ZAM! Wonder if he and Rock Hudson got together, so to speak, and …” 

After two hours, Detective Peter Donglen left the house, exhausted. He thought to himself maybe I’m not cut out for this. 

Copyright © Johnny Clack 2022