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Kevin Stair and Dr. Humble: A Serial Romance

Part 5

"Herbert, let me in," Kevin shouted. His hands hurt from pounding on the door. He didn't know how long it had been since he'd been thrown out, but he knew it was more than ten minutes, Jon Anderson was almost done announcing that he got up and got down.

"What's going on here?" someone said behind him.

He spun around, startled, glad he'd taken a few seconds to get his pants on.

"Dr. Tangle, what're you doing here?"

"That's what I asked you."

Dr. Tangle would have been Kevin's second choice if Dr. Humble had been unwilling to be his faculty advisor. He was the opposite of Dr. Humble in many ways: tall, thin, jovial, but they had always shared a friendship.

"Herbert just called me. I couldn't understand anything he was saying, he was sobbing and the music was turned up too loud. What did you do?"

"I don't know. I told him I read his book and-"

"You what? Is that Yes?"

"Yeah, Close to the Edge."

"Move," he said and pulled out a set of keys, "how long has he been like this?"

"Almost fifteen minutes now, I think."

"You should have broken the door down."

The door opened. Kevin gasped.

The plush carpet sparkled with thousands of fragments of glass. Picture frames, lamps, mirrors and dishes were shattered and strewn throughout the apartment. The record player was the only thing untouched. Dr. Tangle turned it off just as the music was coming back up. Then they could hear the sobs.

"Call an ambulance," Dr. Tangle said.

"I don't have my cell phone, I don't know the address," he said, and started picking his way through the broken glass in his bare feet. Somehow he managed to cross the living room with his feet intact, though it was probably his thick pads more than anything else that saved him. Nothing had saved Herbert. There were clear bloody footprints on the carpet.

He found Herbert in the bedroom. When he saw him he froze. The bedroom was worse than the living room had been. And in the middle of the room beside the upturned bed, he sat.

He was still completely naked. His skin was crimson with smeared blood. Glass had cut him in a thousand places, some of them were still oozing. In one hand he gripped a long glass blade broken from a mirror. It looked as if he'd been about to finish the job when he'd caught sight of himself in the reflective side and stopped. The tip barely broke the skin of his wrist, but it could still go deeper.

Dr. Tangle joined him in the doorway.

"Hurry," he said, then hung up the phone. "Oh, my God, Herb, what are you doing?"

"I can feel him again, George. I thought I buried him, but he's right here."

"Nobody's here except us, Herb. Just me and Mr. Stair and you."

"Kevin's here?" he said, looking up at last. "I'm sorry, Kevin. I didn't want to do this to you. I know how it feels."

"Herbert, whatever's wrong-" Kevin said.

"It's always been wrong. It always will be."

Kevin took a careful step forward.

"Please don't do that. You'll cut your feet."

"So? I'd die to have you, remember?" George winced at the word die, but Herbert didn't seem to latch on to it.

Kevin took another step. He felt something crunch under him, then pain as a dozen shards of glass stabbed between his pads. Herbert went back to looking at his reflection.

"Why are you doing this?"

"The same reason everyone does this. It hurts and it won't stop. Now go away, I don't want you to see me like this."

"You want to kill yourself, Herbert. Who gives a damn what you want?"

Kevin took another step.

"If you really wanted to do that, you would have done it already."

"He said he'd never forgive me."

Kevin was almost close enough. They heard sirens come close and stop.

"Put down the glass."

"I don't want to hurt anymore. I thought I was done. Don't you understand? I don't want to hurt anymore."

"Let me help you," Kevin said.

"That's what I said to Gabe. Let me help you, I said. He didn't want my help."

Kevin heard the paramedics come into the apartment, heard George go back to meet them. He didn't have much time. He could feel the balancing act that was going on in Herbert's head and he didn't know what would upset it. He went down to one knee and held out his hand.

"Herbert, I'm not going to let you do this. Give me the glass."

"Why does it still hurt?" he said as if he hadn't heard Kevin.

"Give me the glass."

Herbert looked up from his reflection.

"Why are you still here?" he asked.

Kevin snatched the glass out of his hand and threw it across the room. It cut him, pain and hot blood filled his hand, but he barely noticed.

The paramedics rushed in with their bags. Herbert recovered from the shock of Kevin's sudden action and surged to his feet with a roar. The first one that reached him got punched in the face. Before the second got close enough, Kevin leapt to his feet and cupped Herbert's face with his hands.

"Stop, Herbert," he said. Then he placed a gentle kiss on his lips. They were salty with tears and blood. "They're going to help you stop the hurting."

Before they left the condo, the paramedics bandaged Kevin's hand, then pulled the glass out of his foot and bandaged that as well. Kevin rode in the ambulance with Herbert, holding his hand the whole way. George Tangle drove behind them. When they reached the hospital, they took Herbert away to surgery while George and Kevin did their best to fill out his admission forms. When they done, Kevin and George went to the waiting room.

"I want you to tell me exactly what happened," Dr. Tangle said.

Kevin told him everything in as much detail as he could manage, from their discussion in Herbert's office to when he threw him out.

"I've never seen anything like that," Kevin said at last, "one minute he seemed perfectly happy, then he's throwing me out of his apartment and attempting suicide."

"That wasn't Herb attempting suicide, not really. If it was you wouldn't have been able to talk him down."

"It's your turn now. Who's Gabe? What happened with his novel?"

"So you read it, did you know it was autobiographical? He changed the details, but anyone who knew them would recognize them.

"Twenty years ago they were in love, Gabriel and him. They met here at the college. Gabriel was working on his doctorate when they met; Herb and I were freshmen and roommates. Gabriel stood in for a professor one day and it was pretty much love at first sight for both of them.

"After Herb and I graduated, they moved in together. The same place Herb lives now. About three months after, Gabriel got hit by a drunk driver. He survived, but he was crippled, paraplegic."

"At the end of the book, they were happy. Gabe's character was learning to deal with himself and Herbert was helping. What happened?" Kevin said.

"Herb went out of town to deal with something about the book. Gabriel took a bottle of pills. Herb took it surprisingly well. Pretty much his only reaction was to have the book pulled. I mean, he cried and everything, but he didn't get suicidal.

"About a year later I set him up on a date. That's when he had his first psychotic episode. The doctors said it was depression brought on through guilt. They stuck him in a hospital, pumped him full of drugs for a while. Six months later they released him with a prescription."

"May 1996 was when it happened, right?"

"How did you know that?"

"He told me that's the last time he'd had sex. And that it had been a mistake."

"That's putting it mildly. The only reason he's alive today is I happened to be passing by when I heard his record player turned up. I used my key and found him in the bathtub trying to cut his other wrist."

"Same song as today."

"Yeah. It was the song they first made love to."

A wolf in scrubs approached them.

"Excuse me, are you George Tangle?"

They both stood up.

"I'm George, yeah."

"You must be Kevin."

"Yeah. How is he?"

"We pulled about a hundred pieces of glass out of him, no major damage, most of them won't even scar. All told he's received thirty-two stitches."

"So he'll be alright?" Kevin said.

"Physically, yes. Mentally... we're transferring him to the psych ward here for observation. He wants to see you."

Kevin started forward.

"No, Mr. Tangle. I'm sorry, sir, but he specifically asked that you not be allowed in."

His heart fell. What did that mean?

"Don't worry about it," George said, "you just saw him at his worst. I probably wouldn't want to see you either." He patted him on the shoulder and followed the doctor. Kevin slumped back in his seat, tears welling up in his eyes.

Herbert Humble opened his eyes. George was there. They had given him something fuzzy, so he wasn't quite coherent.

"Hi, George."

"Hi, Herb. How do you feel?"

"Fuzzy and furry. Like a big fuzzy furry whatsit."

"They're going to take you to the psych ward."

"I know. They told me. It's just like last time."

"What happened?"

"Didn't Kevin say?"

"He told me what he knows. I want to hear the rest."

"He read my book."

"Yes. He told me. I've read your book too. What does that have to do with anything?"

"He said it was beautiful."

"So has everyone else who read it."

"I'm trying to explain. Stop interrupting me. It's hard enough to think as it is."

"Sorry."

"I wrote it for Gabriel. To show him how I felt, to prove myself to him. He read it and said it was beautiful. I was ready to devote my life to him and then he left me, just like that. He didn't even let me say goodbye, said I'd miss my plane." He paused to take a breath, but somehow never got going again.

"Shit, these drugs are strong. I think I'm going to pass out in a minute. Just, make Kevin go away. I don't want him here."

"I don't think that's possible, Herb. He's in love with you."

"Don't you say that. Don't you dare... say..."

His eyes closed mid sentence.

A new doctor approached him, an elderly vole this time.

"I'm Dr. Root, the head psychiatrist here."

"George Tangle. I remember you doctor. You treated Herb last time," George said and took the proffered hand.

"That is fortunate. It'll save us a lot of time. I remember his case well. That young man I saw in the hall is the Kevin you were talking about?"

"That's right."

"I'll need to interview him. Did you witness anything?"

"Nothing that Kevin didn't. He's been with Herb for the last eighteen hours or so."

"I see. I'm going to keep Mr. Humble mildly sedated for the next few days until I'm sure he's not going to self-harm again. Until I'm satisfied, I'm not going to allow any visitors."

"I understand."

They went out to meet Kevin together, George introduced them and then got out of the way. After they went to a private room, Kevin told Dr. Root absolutely everything he could remember, sparing no detail, no matter how personal or inconsequential.

"But I don't understand, he didn't seem depressed at all. I mean, he was just normal."

"As Mr. Tangle mentioned, I treated Mr. Humble twenty years ago."

"He's a doctor. He's got a PhD. In modern literature."

"I apologize. I treated Dr. Humble twenty years ago. When I released him, he was nothing like what you would call cured. He was controlled is the best I could put it. I tried to get him to follow up on therapy, but short of institutionalizing him, there was nothing I could do to force him.

"He's been repressing his feelings of guilt and depression over the death of Gabriel Span. From what you've told me, I'd say your budding relationship created a sort of perfect storm that brought it all bubbling back to the surface, all at once. Twenty years of pent up guilt is a powerful thing.

"I won't be certain until I've had a chance to interview him myself, you understand, but that seems the most likely explanation at this point. I've got to warn you, cases like this one are difficult and he may never be what you could call recovered. He could undergo personality changes, mood swings, depression, the works. At this point we really can't know."

"What are you saying, exactly?"

"I'm saying that there's a good chance that any relationship you might want to pursue with him might be untenable. He could be unwilling, or even incapable."

"So, what, I should just go my merry way and forget about him?"

"Let me finish. On the other hand, you could be the key to some sort of recovery. Sometimes what love breaks, love can fix. I'm not going to allow any visitors over the next couple of days. I'll call you when I do. Until then, you should go home and get some rest. Try to carry on with your life as normal. It won't do him any good for you to become clinically depressed."

"Thanks, doctor. I guess."

"Good luck."

George was waiting for him outside the room.

"Need a lift home?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't be stupid. There's romantic gestures, and there's just being stubborn. He won't be awake until at least tomorrow and they won't let you see him anyway. There is nothing to gain by you moping around the hospital for a week. And don't even think about sneaking into his room. Even if you could get past the guards and nurses at the psych ward, you'd never get back out again. They'd catch you and ban you."

Kevin deflated. He knew the older man was right. But he wanted to see him, talk to him. He didn't know what he'd say, but surely something was better than nothing.

"Did he say anything about me?" Kevin asked in a small voice, fearing the answer.

"He did. He told me to get rid of you."

For the first time since he was seven, Kevin burst into tears. It wasn't a dignified drip of water from an eye, but a big sob that drew attention from all corners. He'd been holding in a mounting feeling of helplessness and those words had put him over the edge.

"Woah, hey big guy, calm down. The man's not thinking straight. He was all doped up. I didn't mean to say it like that."

Kevin slowly got a hold of himself. It took some doing, but he managed it.

"Look at it this way, Kevin. He only said that because he's trying to keep you from getting hurt. It shows how much he cares about you."

"That's a pretty small comfort."

"At this point I'd take what I can get."

Kevin let himself be led out of the hospital, limping slightly due to the cuts on his foot.

"Why'd you bring me back here?" Kevin asked. They were back at Herbert's apartment building.

"I want to show you something. Come up."

They went up to the floor below Herbert's. George led him to his apartment. It had the same floor plan as Herbert's but there the similarities ended. The color scheme was different, cool where Herbert's was warm, and there was less of an air of masculinity around the place.

"Is that you, George?" he heard someone ask.

"Yes, dear. It's me, and I've got company."

"I thought Herb was in the hospital."

"He is, look, if we're going to talk, can we do it in the same room? I'm tired of shouting," he said. Then he turned to Kevin. "Women."

"I heard that."

"Well, I wasn't whispering was I?"

"Cheer up," he said to Kevin, "Herb'll be fine and as for the two of you... well, I just hope I'm not meddling too much. I always was a meddler. It hasn't always bitten me in the ass." These last he muttered to himself as he led Kevin into the guest room.

From the closet he dragged a locked chest. A quick fumble on his key ring came up with the key and he opened it.

Pictures, framed and unframed lay across the bottom. Manuscript boxes were stacked on one side, at least a dozen of them. Two mass market books sat on top of those. Various other knick-knacks rounded out the collection.

"What's all this stuff?" Kevin asked.

"This is everything I managed to save of Gabriel's. After Herb's first breakdown, he threw everything out. He doesn't know I have this."

He dug around in the mess for a while, handed Kevin a framed photo and dived back in.

There were four people in it. Two of them Kevin recognized, Herbert and George grinned out at him, younger, of course, but still recognizable. George had his arm around a leopardess. Herbert was standing next to what could only be Gabriel.

"He was a bear," he said.

"You catch on quick. Even counting that you look a lot like him."

"What're you saying, I'm a replacement goldfish or something?"

"No. You're just his type. No offense, but Gabriel was irreplaceable. If you try to measure yourself up to him, you're going to go insane. I'm sure you're great, but Gabe. He was almost enough to turn me gay."

"You're making me feel so much better."

"Shit, there's me babbling. It's not you, it's a first love thing, right?"

"I think you should stop helping. You really suck at it."

"He does indeed. He sucks at a lot of things. Mostly things attached to me."

The leopardess from the photo walked into the room wearing nothing but a bra and panties. She looked good for an over forty, she looked good for an over thirty, but she didn't do anything for Kevin. Obviously.

"Who's this, then?" she said.

"Kevin, Sheila. Sheila, Kevin. Could you put something on dear? He's not here to play. He's Herbert's boyfriend and he is not a kitchen door."

"Kitchen door?" Kevin said.

"He means you don't swing both ways. That's a pity, you look like you'd be a blast."

"Thanks. I think."

"Don't listen to a thing this old fool says. Gabriel was a good man, but wasn't perfect. He had failings just like everybody else. Pride springs to mind. He didn't want to be helped. He worked two jobs while he was a fulltime student to pay the pills, he could have got a grant, won a scholarship. Not Gabriel, he had to do everything himself.

"A little full of himself too. Thought he was the sun and the moon. He was, to a lot of people," she gave George a pointed look, "but that didn't mean he had to act like it all the time."

"Here it is," he said, handing Kevin a piece of paper. Careful handwriting filled the first few lines.

"What's this?"

"Gabriel's suicide letter."

Sheila snatched it out of his hand.

"What do you think you're doing, showing this around?"

"What? It's Kevin."

"Oh, good point," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I mean, it might explain some things about how Herb's feeling now."

"What do you mean? How's Herb feeling now"

"Do you ever listen to me when I talk?"

"Not when I can help it, dear."

"Herb tried to kill himself." Kevin winced. "He's in the psych ward right now. He told me to get rid of Kevin. I'm trying to let him into Herb's head so he doesn't give up."

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to say something important?" She handed Kevin the note.

Bertie

I'm sorry to do this to you, but I can't see any other solution. I love you too much to continue as we have. I know you would never admit it, even to yourself, but I am far more of a burden than a lover and that is unacceptable. I can't live like this.

I will always love you

Gabriel

P.S. If you even think about pulling a Juliet, I will never forgive you.

"Oh," Kevin said.

"Yeah," George said.