A short story by
David DeLane Snow
The tall, wiry haired man, named Douglas had both outstretched arms pressing against the window as he was licking the glass, and giggling happily to himself. Suddenly he turned around and began violently screaming bloody murder, jumping up and down, waving both hands wildly in the air for no apparent reason.
“Douglas stop that!” Yelled a staff from across the room.
Then uncharacteristically, the client spoke out, “Eerey yehaa Ct-oot!”
“Shut it up, Douglas, now!” Admonished another staff who came running out of the dinning area, adjacent to the long hallway off the dayroom area. The first staff threw him unexpectedly to the ground binding his flying arms underneath him, while the other laid across his legs.
“Calm down, Douglas - and damn it, you know what that means!” Said Thomas, who bore across the pinned man’s shoulders.
“He probably thought that he saw you-know-who’s car.” Robert said as he
restrained the limp legs.
“Jason’s?” asked Thomas.
“Man, let him up.” Which they both did, assisting Douglas to his feet with earnest sincerity, then Robert injected, “Gessh, I’d have a behavior episode too if I saw him coming in this early.” They both laughed, then turned and began looking out the window with the glass-licking client in the middle, just to make sure it wasn’t a black Ford pickup after all.
I don’t know if I can last through the weekend. Five days had been tough enough to endure. Getting up at six o’clock in the morning after tossing and turning; chasing bits of sleep in between the screams and slamming doors of the night shift were beginning to wear on me. With a room mate like Douglas Edgar Milford; who laid astride his over-sized teddy bear as thirty other pair of stuffed animal eyes looked on in horror wondering when they would be humped next, had me on guard as well...