“True, true . . .” Robert’s demeanor suddenly brightened, his mustache lifting as he smiled. “No point in dwelling on an uncomfortable meeting. We received permission from Hayden. We don’t need to notify the board or your father. We simply have to formalize Miss Connor’s consent. Once she agrees, the era of lobotomy will begin!”
“Lobotomy?” Ruth tilted her head as she looked at him, confused by the unfamiliar term.
“Yes. Our methods are different from Dr. Moniz’s. We’re only taking small corings of the frontal lobe, while he severed the connections entirely. Our unique version of the procedure deserves a distinct name, don’t you think? And anyway, lobe-otomy is a more accurate description.”
“All right then.” She nodded, smiling. “To the era of lobotomy!”
Ruth entered Penelope’s room tentatively with Robert close behind her. He suggested that he and her regular psychiatrist get Penelope’s agreement, but Ruth insisted she do it. It had been a month since the chess incident, and while Penelope’s condition hadn’t otherwise improved, she was again affectionate with Ruth. Penelope trusted her, almost like a mother. Ruth had to be the one to get her consent. To explain how this surgery would change her life for the better. Still, Ruth was nervous.
“Penelope, how are you today?” Ruth was disheartened to see little improvement in her appearance, in spite of strict orders to feed her extra portions to put some weight on her.
“How do I look?”
“Truthfully, you don’t look well. Have you been eating like you are supposed to?”
“All the food here is vile. It will just make me worse.”
“Penny, if you don’t eat, you’ll die. I can’t think of worse than that.” Ruth’s voice failed to hide her frustration.
“Perhaps this would be a good time for me to introduce myself?” Robert jumped in.
“Yes, I was coming around to that. Penny, I have some very good news for you!” She softened her tone again, and Penelope looked at her expectantly, like it was suddenly going to be Christmas morning.
“I’d like to introduce you to my husband, Dr. Robert Apter.” Ruth gestured to Robert as he moved closer to Penelope’s bedside. “Robert is a doctor here at Emeraldine, and he has developed a very exciting new treatment that I think might actually cure you.”
“Cure me? Really?” Penelope’s face suddenly eased, and she began to cry. It was as if all her recent hostility was just a mask to hide her fear.
“Well, we don’t know if it will be a complete cure, of course,” Robert interjected, “but we know this treatment is particularly suited to patients with your diagnosis.”
“Yes, Penny, after you heal from the operation, it’s quite possible that you’ll be well enough to leave us here and go back to your regular life!”
“Operation?”
“Yes, it is a surgery. Very simple really, we will just drill a small hole in the top of your head, right here”—Robert tapped the top of Penelope’s head, just above her hairline, and she winced—“and then we do a small procedure to help your brain function better. You won’t feel a thing, and afterward, you should be much happier, more relaxed, and less preoccupied with these things that are preventing you from eating and causing you to scratch yourself up like that.”
“Then, a few weeks after that, when we are sure the wound has healed, if you are up to it, you will be able to go home.” Ruth looked up and saw Penelope’s face frozen in terror.
“A surgery? In my brain?”
“I know it sounds scary, but Dr. Apter is a brilliant doctor, and his partner, Dr. Wilkinson, is a gifted surgeon.” Ruth waved Edward forward and he stepped to Penelope’s bedside.