I Can Hear the Mourning Dove by James Bennett

Author:James Bennett
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497683945
Publisher: Open Road Media Teen & Tween

Through the open window I hear the cooing of the dove and the lowing cattle and the muffled, distant traffic.

“They got any coffee around here?”

The loud voice startles me. I look up and it is the one called Luke Wolfe. He struts at all times; is it the strut of a predator? My pulse quickens and my mouth turns dry. His hair is damp and I can smell his after-shave.

“What did you say, please?”

“I said is there any coffee around here?” His voice crackles with static and he is blocking the light from the east window, he is sort of like a silhouette.

“I don’t think so,” I say quickly. “In the cafeteria there is coffee for the staff, but I’m quite sure it’s not meant for patients.”

He leaves without a word, strutting down the west wing toward the cafeteria. I’m sure he would never need to consult the blue line or the yellow line or any of the lines. He won’t come back here, surely. He won’t want to be in the lounge at dawn. If he does come back, I will be all alone with him, except for Miss Ivey who doesn’t really count, because she is here only in body. I feel the panic rising in my stomach. It would be much safer to go to my room, but I stay in my spot on the couch, hoping to remember the dream and recapture the peaceful moment.

He returns, with steaming coffee in a large Styrofoam cup.

“They gave you some,” I say.

“I took some,” he says. He is wearing a red tank top. He could break me with his heavy muscles. He sits at the card table and lights a cigarette.

For a few minutes he smokes his cigarette and drinks his coffee. My pulse will not slow down; I try to keep my mouth moist.

He finally breaks the silence. “So tell me. What is a psychopath?” He seems bored.

“Excuse me?”

“What is a psychopath? People keep callin’ me a psychopath, and I don’t know what the hell it means.”

The nurses’ station is only a few feet around the corner. If Mr. Sneed is there, he could help me.

“There’s going to be anger,” I blurt out. “Will there be anger?”

“Hey, man, don’t come unglued. It’s just a question. If you don’t know the answer, that’s cool.” He gets up and strides across the room. He switches off Miss Ivey’s television set. She seems to take no notice of him.

He returns to his chair and sits down. “Jesus Christ, a goddam test pattern.”

I moisten my lips and my mouth. “A psychopath is a person without a conscience,” I say quietly. “A person with a basic personality component that’s missing.”

“Is that it?”

He thinks I am finished, but I am only swallowing so I can go on. “A psychopath feels no remorse for the evil that he does. He hates to get caught, but he doesn’t feel remorse for the deed itself.”

He puffs on his cigarette but doesn’t speak. He is folding his red and blue bandana tight into a band.

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