Of Another Kind Altogether—Part 3

Dr. Tilden didn’t know what to do now, if anything. As the radiologist reading Marilyn Mayer’s prenatal ultrasound, she couldn’t understand the patient’s non-plussed reaction to the results being “puzzling.” Nor could she understand what Marilyn had meant by “everyone else” being in danger instead of her pregnancy.

She suspected, however, that she should do nothing more. She had made the attempt to inform her, as a patient, even though it was an indirect patient-physician relationship. The pregnancy was not there, despite hormone levels that indicated otherwise. Thus, the radiologist knew something would give, sooner or later, as any inevitable miscarriage tends to do. And Marilyn’s OB had told her to call him when she began bleeding, as Dr. Tilden knew would eventually happen.

Instead, the radiologist was more concerned for Marilyn’s mental health. This young woman thought she had been taken by aliens for a week, and somehow she was associating her pregnancy condition—troubled or otherwise—with what had happened to her during her abduction. Dr. Tilden sat by her phone, running these thoughts, when she was notified she had a call on hold for her.

Oh, thank God, she thought. Marilyn has let it sink in.

Dr. Tilden was eager and prepared to re-establish her clinical connection with her patient. She wanted to pursue a mental health trajectory as soon as possible: Marilyn had been kidnapped, probably by thugs or traffickers, likely raped, and the trauma had blocked out all of the details from her mind; as an insistent virgin, and wanting to stay that way, her mind had conjured what she termed and alien “communion” instead of impregnation via the human kind. The radiologist wondered about her issues—with men, with virginity, with rape, and—most dangerously—with denial.

“Hello, Marilyn,” she said. But before hearing what she had expected to be Marilyn’s voice, the man on the other end of the call quickly corrected her.

“No, Doctor, it’s Detective Porter.”

“Oh—I’m so sorry,” the radiologist said, embarrassed. “I’m not surprised you called.”

“You’re not?”

“Right. I just got off the phone with Miss Mayer, whose case you’re investigating, as I understand it.”

“You understand correctly, Doctor.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Just some information, if you can.”

“If I can…” she trailed off. “HIPAA and all that.”

“Doesn’t apply. We’re investigating a crime, Dr. Tilden.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Detective. I’m going to have to check with the hospital attorney, though.”

“Sure. Can you do that today and call me back?”

“If I can,” Dr. Tilden said, in a tone lacking commitment.

“If you can,” the detective responded, somewhat icily in return.

“Hang up the phone, Dr. Tilden,” said a voice. Dr. Tilden looked up and saw the stranger at her door.

“Hold on, Detective,” she said, and addressed the man who was ordering her to end the call. “Are you the hospital lawyer?”

“No,” he said, and smiled smugly.

She looked at him and then returned to the telephone. She hated when trying to navigate a live conversation in a room with a telephone one on the line. “I’ll call you back,” she said and replaced the receiver.

The man was…as she sized him up…so clean. That’s the impression that struck her. He was pale, but not in a frail or ill way; it was more like he had been protected from the outside wear-and-tear of living. And he struck her as being very angular, which is the other word that came to her. He was sharply dressed in a perfectly fitting suit, still pressed despite it being mid-day.

She felt he wasn’t threatening.

She was curious, however, if this man had anything to do with the Marilyn Mayer case, since he seemed purposely driven to end her conversation with the detective.

“Who are you, sir, may I ask?”

He smiled again. This time it was a genuine smile.

“I’m here for Marilyn Mayer.” Dr. Tilden pushed back her chair and stood to confront him.

“She’s not here. In fact, I shouldn’t have said even that. I can’t talk about anyone you would ask about. In what capacity are you here for this person, Mr.—um—Mr…?”

“I’m not here for her, in how you assume. I am here on her behalf. And, to answer your need for a name, I don’t have a name,” he said. He said it quite matter-of-factly.

“Everyone has a name, but you don’t? Why on Earth not?” she asked.

“Why on Earth not is because I have not yet been born on Earth, Doctor.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I am Marilyn Mayer’s child,” he responded.

___________

On to Part 4: https://shopping-feedback.today/fiction/of-another-kind-altogether-part-4%3C/a%3E%3C/p%3E%3Cstyle data-emotion-css="14azzlx-P">.css-14azzlx-P{font-family:Droid Serif,Georgia,Times New Roman,Times,serif;font-size:1.1875rem;-webkit-letter-spacing:0.01em;-moz-letter-spacing:0.01em;-ms-letter-spacing:0.01em;letter-spacing:0.01em;line-height:1.6;color:#1A1A1A;margin-top:32px;}