Always Watching

thanks. Is Erick in today?”
    “He’s off for the rest of the week.” My face must have revealed something because he said, “Can I help?”
    “I just wanted to get a second opinion on something.” I looked down the hallway, toward the ward. I was going to have to make a decision about this soon.
    “Step into my office.” He opened the door.
    I hesitated, wondering if I should work this out myself, then, still unsure of how to handle the situation with Heather, walked through. I hadn’t been in his office before and it appeared that he’d tried to fix it up a little: a fern in the corner, a wall tapestry, which looked like it might be from the Middle East.
    When Kevin caught the direction of my gaze, he said, “Patients should have something to look at other than my ugly mug.”
    He was far from ugly. True, he wasn’t classically handsome, like Daniel Simeon, but he had an interesting face. His features were almost Lebanese-looking, his nose broad, his skin tanned, with deep-set dark eyes, the corners turning down with fine lines radiating out. I knew he was forty-five, but his hair was still inky black, not a trace of gray. He didn’t dress very formal and tended to wear dark denim jeans with a nice shirt and tie, and then a casual blazer. He also wore clear-rimmed glasses with black metal earpieces that suited him. I’d only spoken to him a few times but thought him friendly and intelligent.
    He said, “So how are you finding working at the hospital?”
    “I’m enjoying it. Everyone’s been very welcoming.”
    “Well, if I can ever help in any way, you let me know.”
    I smiled. “Thanks.”
    He said, “So what did you need a second opinion on?”
    “A patient, Heather Simeon, was admitted a couple of nights ago after an attempted suicide, and during our initial interview she revealed something that made me realize I might not be the best doctor for her. I’d like to refer her to someone else.” Though we need to keep the patients’ information confidential outside of the ward, the doctors can discuss them because we work as a team.
    “Can you tell me what she revealed?”
    “We have a mutual acquaintance.…” Why was I dancing around this? I was a professional, he was professional. There was no reason to be embarrassed.
    “And you think this might make it difficult to be impartial?” His tone was kind and matter-of-fact. I could see why he was so popular with the patients.
    “Yes, but it’s more complicated than that.” I took a breath. “She and her husband were recently living at a commune in Jordan River.”
    He wrinkled his forehead. “You mean The River of Life Center?”
    “You know them?”
    “I attended a yoga retreat there years ago.”
    “What did you think?”
    “They were a little intense and called a few times after, wanting me to attend other retreats, but besides that, they were okay. They seem to be heavily influenced by Eastern philosophy, mysticism, Hinduism, and Buddhism, and they’re also dabbling in some Gestalt Therapy, but I didn’t get the feeling they were married to any one belief.” He added, “They’ve done some good things for the community, recycling and conservation programs, planting a public garden.”
    I thought over everything he said, which matched with what I’d learned from Heather and my own online research.
    “So how does the center fit into your dilemma?” he asked.
    “My patient and her husband lived there for a while as full-time members, and since they’ve left, it seems like some members have been harassing them.”
    He looked concerned. “What kind of harassment?”
    “From what I can tell, it’s mostly phone calls, similar to what you received, but they appear to be of a more pressuring nature. The center wants them to come back.”
    “Do you know why they left?”
    “She was pregnant.” I explained what Heather had shared about the center’s beliefs and that she felt members were blaming her for the miscarriage.
    “How’s she doing now? Has she been showing any signs of paranoia?”
    “She’s understandably depressed. She also has some symptoms of complex post-traumatic stress syndrome, and she’s very dependent on her husband.” My mind drifted back to the commune, the way my mother didn’t want to go into town alone after we returned home, how she made my father go everywhere with her.
    Kevin said, “Is that what you wanted an opinion on?”
    “No, it’s about the center. I knew the leader. When I