Strange Highways

Chase put a hand on the receiver - then realized who might be calling. Judge hadn't phoned since early Wednesday night. He was overdue.
     "Hello?"
     "Ben?"
     "Yes?"
     "Dr. Fauvel here."
     It was the first time that Chase had ever heard the psychiatrist on the phone. Except during their office sessions, all communications were through Miss Pringle.
     "What do you want?" Chase asked. The name had fully awakened him and chased off his lingering nightmares.
     "I wondered why you hadn't kept your Friday appointment."
     "Didn't need it."
     Fauvel hesitated. Then: "Listen, if it was because I talked to the police so frankly, you must understand that I wasn't violating a doctor-patient relationship. They weren't accusing you of any crime, and I thought it was in your best interest to tell them the truth before they wasted more time on this Judge."
     Chase said nothing.
     Fauvel said, "Should we get together this afternoon and talk about it, all of it?"
     "No."
     "I think you would benefit from a session right now, Ben."
     "I'm not coming in again."
     "That would be unwise," Fauvel said.
     "Psychiatric care was not a condition of my hospital discharge, only a benefit I could avail myself of."
     "And you still can avail yourself of it, Ben. I'm here, waiting to see you"
     "It's no longer a benefit," Chase said. He was beginning to enjoy this. For the first time, he had Fauvel on the defensive for more than a brief moment; the new balance of power was gratifying.
     "Ben, you are angry about what I said to the police. That is the whole thing, isn't it?"
     "Partly," Chase said. "But there are other reasons."
     "What?"
     Chase said, "Let's play the word-association game."
     "Word association? Ben, don't be-"
     "Publish."
     "Ben, I'm ready to see you anytime that-"
     "Publish," Chase interrupted.
     "This doesn't help-"
     "Publish," Chase insisted.
     Fauvel was silent. Then he sighed, decided to play along, and said, "I guess ... books."
     "Magazines."
     "I don't know where you want me to go, Ben."
     "Magazines." "Well ... newspapers."
     "Magazines."
     "New word, please," Fauvel said.
     "Contents."
     "Oh. Articles?"
     "Five."
     "Five articles?"
     "Psychiatry."
     Puzzled, Fauvel said, "You're not managing this correctly. Word association has to be-"
     "Patient C."
     Fauvel was stunned into silence.
     "Patient C," Chase repeated.
     "How did you get hold of-"
     "One word."
     "Ben, we can't discuss this in one-word exchanges. I'm sure you're upset; but-"
     "Play the game with me, Doctor, and maybe - just maybe - I won't make a public response to your five articles and won't subject you to professional ridicule."
     The silence on the other end of the line was as deep as any Chase had ever heard.
     "Patient C," Chase said.
     "Valued."
     "Bullshit."
     "Valued," Fauvel insisted.
     "Exploited."
     "Mistake," Fauvel admitted.
     "Correction?"
     "Necessary."
     "Next?"
     "Session."
     "Next?"
     "Session."
     "Please don't repeat your answers," Chase admonished. "New word. Psychiatrist."
     "Healer."
     "Psychiatrist."
     "Me."
     "Sonofabitch."
     "That's childish, Ben."
     "Egomaniac."
     Fauvel only sighed.
     "Asshole," Ben said, and he hung up.
     He hadn't felt so good in years.
     Later, as he was exercising the stiffness out of his battered muscles, he realized that making the break with his psychiatrist was a stronger rejection of his recent despair than anything else that he had done. He'd been telling himself that when Judge was located and dealt with, he could then resume his sheltered existence on the third floor of Mrs. Fielding's house. But that was no longer possible. By discontinuing all psychiatric treatment, he was admitting that he had changed forever and that his burden of guilt was growing distinctly less heavy.
     Chase's pleasure in Fauvel's humiliation was tempered by the daunting prospect of having to live again. If he forsook the solace of solitude - what would replace