The Retriever - Jared L. Cantin - Chapter 1 (p.3-4) Continued from previous post

“I think bad shit happens all the time, and more than a fair share of that shit seems to find me.” Jagger leaned back onto the Chaise, falling out of the more aggressive position he had previously sported. He saw the doctor’s body language change to communicate a more at ease feeling. Doc had noticed the change in position, and appeared somewhat comforted. Jagger was pleased with this power to influence.

“And do you think that what happened, do you think it was just another case of something bad happening to you?” The Doctor danced around the true question, what he had meant was, “Do you really think you are by no means to blame for what happened?” Jagger new he was, and grew somewhat annoyed.

“Bad shit happens.” Jagger responded angrily.

“Do you think that your behavior in the past has possibly put you in situations where bad things were more likely to happen?” The Doctor became more direct in his questioning, and Jagger appreciated this newfound bold approach.

“Definitely.” Jagger forced a cold grin.

“And do you think that a particular bad decision may be the reason that you are sitting here talking to me, with two parole officers outside that door listening?” A flash of satisfaction donned the face of the doctor, just like the look that flashes across the face of a prosecutor after breaking a witness, it screamed, gotcha.

“Only two?” Jagger remarked with sarcastic disbelief.

“Why yes.” The Doctor remarked very matter of factly. “You are essentially a free man now Mr. Jagger. Sure, you have to show to work, and be home by eight, and keep out of trouble, but you are essentially a free man.”

“You don’t go from what I was, to what I did, to what I am, and call it free.” Jagger stared blankly at the doctor.

“This is NOT free.” Jagger grew increasingly anxious.

“It’s temporary, with good behavior, a strong work record, adherence to curfew, and good citizenship, you’re parole obligations will be fulfilled by 2012 at the latest.”
“I’m not talking about my freedom; I’m talking about what I can never get back, time…her!” Jagger yelled time and her. The words, two simple words, burned in Jagger’s chest. He felt flush, his heartbeat accelerated beyond the point of mere excitement, and a soft pinprick like feeling started taking over his body. The sensation started in his legs, as if he had bee sitting Indian style for several hours and his legs had fallen asleep. Only it did not stop there, it intensified sharply, it moved upwards, into his body. Paralyzing. He started feeling the same sensation in his face, stronger, throbbing, and it migrated downward from there. The feeling met in the middle, at his gut, wrenching convulsions ensued. He looked up helplessly at the doctor, who broke the silence.