“I can see that you are struggling.”
“Dr. Apter, are you certain that lobotomy will cure me?” Margaret looked at the doctor expecting a comforting smile, but his eyes darted around the room and his knee bounced up and down impatiently. She shifted in her seat.
“Yes.” He looked away from her, toward the room next to the kitchen. The area where, she knew, he performed his procedures. “As I’ve told you many times, without lobotomy, your maladies will not simply disappear, Margaret.”
“Yes, I know they won’t. It’s just that . . . I’m scared of making a mistake.” She looked sheepishly at the doctor as she played with the strap on her pocketbook, hoping for reassurance. Instead, she saw what she could only interpret as fury. His pinched mouth struggled to contain his disappointment in her; his furrowed brow silently chastised her disobedience.
“So you’ve said. Frequently. I am not sure how many more times I can tell you that you need this before you believe me. I think you do believe me since you are here.” She felt like he was yelling at her. It made her extremely anxious.
“Perhaps you would like to see where the procedure is performed?” His voice and face softened. “Have a look at the instruments. I have a feeling it will help you to see how simple it all really is.”
That did seem like a reasonable idea. Maybe if she could visualize what lobotomy would look like, put herself in the moment, she could determine whether it was what she really wanted, what she needed. “All right.” She stood. “Why don’t I get Frank and he can see too? I think it will set his mind at ease.”
“We can show Frank once you make your decision.”
Margaret followed Dr. Apter into the small second room. It was a simple space with a reclining chair, a metal tray, and a machine of some sort that Dr. Apter immediately turned on. Margaret started to get more nervous as she heard the humming noise and saw the long metal instruments that would be thrust into her eyes—they really did look like ice picks. Dr. Apter lifted two cuplike pieces attached by flexible cables to the machine now whirring feverishly. She began to step back, toward the door of the room.
“Don’t be afraid. This is just a simple electroshock machine. It’s what I use instead of anesthesia. It’s very gentle, has a calming effect actually. Come, look.”
Margaret suddenly felt paralyzed with fear. She wanted to open her mouth and yell, but that would be absurd. This was her doctor. His job was to heal her. Steeling herself, she approached him slowly. As she did, he lunged for her with the electrodes in his hand, and only then did she let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Chapter Fifty
Frank shook the door by the knob but it wouldn’t open, so Ruth grabbed a rock and threw it through the glass panel. She reached inside to unlock the door, and the two of them rushed into the room in a frenzy.
“Maggie?” Frank screamed as he tore across the office to the second room.
“Robert?” Ruth was on Frank’s heels, panicked about what they might see when they went through that doorway. She braced herself, anticipating that she’d find Margaret in the chair with Robert standing over her, finishing up the lobotomy she never needed. She desperately hoped she was wrong.
“Mags? Mags?” She heard Frank almost whimper and then begin to bawl, and her heart broke. She entered the room to find Margaret on the floor in Frank’s arms, sobbing but untouched. “It’s okay, Mags, it’s okay.”
Robert lay next to them seemingly unconscious.
“He . . . he . . . he tried to knock me out. I wasn’t ready. I wanted to see the room and then tell you, for sure, that it was going to happen first. But he was like a wild animal coming at me. He had those things in his hands, he was going to shock me, to put me out so he could do it right then. I tried to push him away and he tripped backward on the wire. Hit his head. He fell to the ground . . . he . . .” Margaret started to cry harder. Ruth knelt down next to Robert and checked his pulse, still steady. She checked his head for signs of a cut and there were none.