The Clink part 4: “Hug-a-Thug”
His office would’ve been much more impressive if every stick of furniture hadn’t come from particle board put together at prison industries, the quality of work produced by felons was quite evident the moment Jules laid eyes on the wannabe mahogany desk. Though this behemoth of a man was certainly brave enough without suggesting that Jules come to see him without handcuffs on, but so many of these guys were like that, brave on the outside but cried themselves to sleep whenever something went horribly wrong. Jules sighed and took a seat, this guy was harmless, and helpless but there was probably little in the way of power he had over the institution other than making the inmates feel better about themselves so that they might push less grievances against the reformatory.
“I understand you were assaulted recently,” Doctor Jones proceeded to go into further detail, but Jules blocked most of it out by ignoring most of the words that came out of his mouth. “Do you care to say why you felt the need to beat a man nearly half to death?”
It was that statement that shook Jules out of the apathy of the moment, usually these guys were so quick to help guys like Jules play the victim, and right off the bat it’s Jules own fault he was assaulted and raped merely two hours of in processing. He tried to ignore the question and come up with a few things this shrink wanted to hear. He was a hard one to read directly, oddly enough, these guys were usually the D students in grad school, not quite dumb enough to fail but certainly not smart enough for the big money. Though, Jules wondered if this man still had a Jag in his garage, or was he too much of a self-righteous ass-clown that his condo was filled to the rim with the same particle-board furniture that adorned every corner of his office. He probably drove the same piece of shit Ford his mommy handed down to him as a graduation present after high school, no doubt.
Jules continued to nod until the doctor’s lips stopped moving, and he finally took some room to speak on his own, “What do you expect me to say, doc?”
“Nothing really, I’ve been reciting my grocery list to you for the past minute or so. But hey, we’re on your time here, it’s up to you what we discuss.”
There was definitely a Jag in his garage, at least Jules was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and picture him with a used one in the parking lot of his shitty condo. “So am I supposed to believe you somehow give a shit about me?”
“No, I don’t expect you to believe in anything.” Doctor Jones replied simply and without a show of emotion on his face, almost as though he were more interested in the paperwork than what Jules had to say. “Typically people with patterns like your criminal history are typically anti-social at best, oftentimes narcissistic and occasionally I’ll see a nihilist. So which one are you mister Perrish?”
“I don’t like labels. They tend to trap a person into thinking one way or another and lead to extremist ideologies.”
The doctor wrote nothing down, but instead put his pencil down and looked at Jules, “that’s an interesting train of thought, do you care to elaborate?”
Jules allowed himself a moment to think, “I don’t believe you’re here to help me, I believe you’re here because deep down, I can help you.”
“Text book narcissist, mister Perrish, how often do you practice?” He smiled slightly and continued before Jules could reasonably become offended, “You’ll have to try a little harder than that I’m here for the truth as you would define it for me. Call it whatever you like but I believe we can mutually benefit one another.”
The inmate rolled his fingers across his thigh, tapping them in a rhythm that began and ended in his mind, “and you call me a narcissist, why are shrinks always the first ones to sling mud, and then diagnose name calling as if it were official definition?”
“Everyone has their niche, mister Perrish.”
A smirk crawled across Jules’ face and the tapping ceased, he came to no small revelation that this was no normal corrections headshrinker and the smirk grew into a large toothy grin. “What’s the book about, doc?”
“The usual, nothing really ground breaking. I’m exploring the mythology of prison life and its effects on the mentally deviant. Just enough to continue to satisfy my tenure.”
“Wait,” Jules held up his hands, “whose definition makes me the deviant one?”
Doctor Jones put down his pencil and looked up for the first time in several moments and wearing a smile, “I see you’re wearing a modified pentagram.”
“Yeah, I’m into that devil worshiping shit, what of it?”
“Actually what you’re wearing is a protection symbol, it was found quite regularly at druidic blood worshiping sites. It’s begun to make its rounds through the popular Wiccan circles, who – in my experience – grasp onto this religious practice not due to their belief; rather, their need to escape the social norms that are usually forced on them. In other words, a need to deviate from the status quo, Mister Perrish. So yes I believe you to be a deviant mind.”
“Well that’s your opinion.”
“And one backed up by a PhD, and several years of clinical research. Not to mention it was an opinion held by a Jury of your peers. Do you always act out in hopes to discover a new reaction from your deeds, or is it a more primal urging that can’t be suppressed?”
Jules could only stare ahead, his vision washed out as his brain fired on all cylinders. Confused about how he should feel about the last few statements, he wondered if he should feel belittled over the doctors’ inflated sense of himself. Jules attempted to speak a number of times, but each time stopped at the moment he realized there was nothing he could say that would compel the conversation any further.
“Furthermore, how do you define yourself, mister Perrish, I’m curious.”
Jules kept quiet for another moment, not sure how to answer or even if he should. “I’m a stone cold killer; I should gut you like a fish!”
“I’m not writing a book about Ted Bundy copycats, Mister Perrish, besides you don’t have a history of knife violence, that’d be far too much work for you, considering your history.”
“So you’re the expert then? Why do you need my help for your little book?”
It was not complex but both men stared back at one another, each expecting a response to their question, but neither giving in nor gaining any ground. Doctor Jones realized he had pushed the boundary a little too far with the amount of questions asked, and he wanted to regain control. “Does that symbol help you feel powerful after being victimized?”
“I dunno, doc.” Jules struck out with his reply, “Does your PhD make you feel powerful in front of a conman?”
“Each group has its belief in symbols, and perhaps my sect of society finds solace in notarized pieces of paper, but you don’t know what your symbol even means. Is it your desperation to belong that helps you cling to things you don’t understand, or is it the odds you feel because you don’t belong that pressure you to make an appearance to appease those around you? Like your assault on James Bardston or the murders that landed you here in the first place?”
“Is the hour up yet?” Jules asked as disdain filled his entire demeanor. His face readily showing ht breakdown of the façade he used to keep his temper under control.
“If you want the session to be finished, then you always have the right to call it to an end.” The doctor’s voice kept its monotone and calmness as the inmate started to show signs of the loss in self control. “I’m not a jailer, mister Perrish. If you want to leave, the door is right behind you.”
“What’s the catch?”
“Pardon?”
Jules repeated in broken sentences, “What. Is. The. Catch.?”
Doctor Jones shrugged, “there’s always something lurking in the shadows waiting for you, isn’t there? Some sinister agenda waiting to do you in. There is no catch mister Perrish, we’ll see each other again next week, as I’m afraid that’s where your choice comes to an end.”
Heh. “Hug-a-Thug.” Great title.
And good work on the dialogue for this tete-a-tete. Their personalities, each dominant in its own way, shined through distinctly. I hope Dr. Jones shows up again in the future. Jules, very clearly, needs someone to talk to about what all’s on his mind. If he’ll just let his guard down a little more…
Thanks for the comment and I’m glad I got across that both of these personalities were dominant in their own right. It would’ve been far too easy to put Doctor Jones on top, but it would’ve taken Jules down a notch too.