Madeleine & the Mind by Felicia Mires Page B

I told you he didn't do anything. I saw Steven at the end of the pool. I know it wasn't him. But I couldn't see anyone else. There was just a dark blur underneath me. Someone tried to kill me. Who was in that lab with you?"
    "No one. It's lunch time. I thought I'd check on the two of you."
    She closed her eyes. Her head throbbed. "Go check on Steven. He saved my life. If he hadn't pulled me out of that water…"
    Mike walked into the other room, and Madeleine shut the door and locked it. Steven had been sitting in the window in his wet bathing suit. For once, she was going to let Mike deal with him.
    She turned on the water and took a long shower. After she got out, she towel-dried her hair and put some salve on her leg. She didn't even feel like eating.
    At a knock on the door, she rose. "What is it?"
    "The doctor is here. He'd like to speak with you."
    She rolled her eyes. Perfect timing!
    She put on white scrubs with a teddy bear print and entered the other room.
    A short, round Spanish man was just packing his briefcase. He snapped it shut then greeted Madeleine.
    "Senorita Price, I'm Dr. Hidalgo. How are you getting on with the patient?"
    Madeleine shrugged. "I'm not sure. He's pushed me in the pool, lost me in the maze, and all he ever seems to enjoy is staring out that window. What am I supposed to be doing?"
    "He's trying to get rid of you, too? Well, physiologically, there's nothing wrong with him. The concussion is gone. The bump on his head is gone. And there were no lasting effects from the smoke inhalation. I've checked his brain waves and his EKG. This has to be some type of mental block. He could speak if he wanted to.
    "The usual types of voice therapy won't work on him, because there's nothing wrong with his voice. He chooses not to use it."
    Madeleine didn't really like discussing Steven while he sat in front of them. But the doctor gave her no choice.
    "What about his tendency to wander aimlessly? His movements are not always coordinated, and sometimes he doesn't look as if his mind is working at all."
    "I assure you, it's working. But it may not be working on what you want. He had a shock, and he lost his voice. His symptoms often resemble someone with shell-shock. My only advice is to keep introducing visual and auditory stimuli. If he'll cooperate, use different activities."
    The doctor stepped toward the door, and Madeleine hurried after him. She wasn't finished asking questions. Like, when was she going to get some time off, and who did she ask to get it?
    When she came back to her room, Mike stood waiting for her. "Madeleine if you're all right now, I think I better get back to the lab."
    "Don't tell anyone what I said about the pool."
    "If that's what you want. I'll come by after dinner to give you a break."
    "Thank you."
    He left the room, and Madeleine looked over at the window. Steven sat in his usual perch. She didn't feel like forcing him to do anything, so she picked up her cold lunch tray and started to eat. She watched his back the whole time. Something out there mesmerized him.
    When she finished her food, she put the tray in the hall then she got the Bible. "I'm going to read to you now, Steven. You can sit there or lie in your bed…whatever you want."
    She should at least make an effort to force him to acknowledge her. "Steven, look at me."
    He turned his head.
    "I don't know how you got me out of the water, but you saved my life. Thank you. Did you see anyone, anyone at all?"
    There was no change in his expression. His empty stare looked past her shoulder.
    "Well, thank you. Do you want to sit beside me while I read?"
    He staggered to the bed and sat on the edge. Then he pointed at Madeleine's leg.
    "I'm sorry, Steven, I don't understand."
    He stared at her as if he didn't really understand himself, then he pulled her pants leg up from her ankle.
    "Oh. It's the other leg."
    She stretched out her leg and pulled at the hem of her pants.
    Steven put his fingers at either end of the scrape