witnesses to the start of this fight?” asked the officer. By now, a crowd of curious spectators had gathered, but not one had witnessed the start of the incident.
“We just heard screams, and a crying child, and some cans crashing to the floor,” replied the store manager.
Doherty took detailed notes. “Is there going to be more trouble here?” he asked.
“No.” answered Arroyo. George remained silent. Gail forced herself to remain calm as she interjected on his behalf. “I’m Mrs. Gilmer, sir, and that’s my husband,” she said, pointing to George. “He’s never been in trouble with the police before.”
“Well, ma’am, he’s in trouble now if he refuses to answer my questions.” Returning his attention to George, he asked again, “Did you strike the first blow?”
He swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I guess I did. Just lost it.”
“Do you lose it very often?”
“No, no sir,” he stammered.
Gail stared wide-eyed at her husband. She didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or scared to death, or both.
George’s expression softened and, for the first time, he seemed alert. “Sorry,” he said.
Officer Doherty was now eager to wind things up. “Both of you finish your shopping, pay the tab, and get out of here. There better not be any more trouble. I’m gonna stay put for a while, just to make sure.” Turning to Arroyo, Doherty continued, “If you want to press charges, sir, you’ll need to come down to the station.”
“Let’s go,” said Gail, still shaken. She paid the bill and insisted that George sit alongside her while she drove home. She could not trust him behind the wheel. For the moment, at least, she was unconcerned about the girls’ welfare. They were playing in the rear seat.
Back home, with the children in the back yard, she wept. “Now, do you believe me that you’ve changed? Who are you, anyhow? Tell me!” she insisted. “What’s happened? I don’t recognize you anymore.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
George went pale. Perhaps for the first time he recognized her desolation, but felt powerless to help. “I just lost it,” he said, his voice above a whisper. “It’s okay.”
“No. Nothing’s okay anymore. Something’s wrong, and you better admit it.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry? That guy might press charges.”
“But he didn’t get hurt,” he said.
“Oh? You assaulted him. Don’t you understand what you did? You have never done anything like that in your whole life. You’ve got to see Dr. Crowell. Enough.” Gail could no longer contain herself. She started weeping. From time to time, she reached out to touch George’s hand.
Never before had he witnessed his wife in such a state, yet he realized he needed to act.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “Set up the appointment, but you’re wasting your time.”
She knew that he was in denial, and insisted on accompanying him to the doctor’s office. She also arranged for her mother to baby-sit the girls.
CHAPTER 9
When they arrived for their scheduled appointment, they waited more than an hour before Burt could see them. Gail had difficulty keeping George in his seat. Several times, he threatened to get up and leave. When it was their turn, a sullen George walked into the doctor’s examining room.
Burt greeted them both before scanning George’s chart and questioning his patient. He asked, “This visit is for you, Mr. Gilmer, is that right?”
“Yes,” said Gail, before her husband could speak, “and I had to beg him to come.”
The doctor glanced back at the chart, reviewing for detail. Burt recalled the abdominal pain syndrome most likely attributed to an ulcer. He noted that George had failed to follow through with the previous post-exam tests he had ordered during the last visit.
Burt stepped within inches of his sulking patient who was sitting on the examining table with hands folded in his lap. “Tell me what happened,” said the doctor in a calm voice
“The wife dragged me here.” he said. “She thinks something’s happening to me, but I feel great. In fact, if you’d like the truth, I’m just trying to satisfy her. This is all a big waste of time.” Burt nodded and turned his gaze to Gail.
“Doctor, it was like pulling teeth to get him here,” she said. “He’s like a stranger. It’s all so sudden, and I’m sick with worry. He loses his temper, he forgets things, and he even got lost driving home the other day.”
George shook his head in defiance, but failed to get a word in while Gail continued. “He’s nervous and irritable and barks at the children. We’re all scared to death. Worst of all, the other day at the supermarket some guy bumped into him with a cart, and he started swinging and punching. The store manager called the police, and we’re praying that the man won’t press charges.”
“That’s quite a lot of complaints, George,” said Burt. “How do you feel about all this?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he countered. “I’ve been busy at work, and took on some extra jobs. Just lost my temper in the supermarket, but I didn’t hurt the guy.”
“Hmm,” replied Burt,” sounds like two different stories.”
“Sure does,” said George, with a wry smile.
“Gail, if you don’t mind, I’d like to question your husband alone. Soon as I finish, I’ll call you back in. Is that okay with you, George?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Gail nodded and left the room.
“Okay, George, let’s concentrate on what brought you here. I’ll ask you questions and check you over again. Have you ever been in a fight like this before?”
“No. Well, maybe when I was a kid.”
“Do you think you’ve been getting more nervous as time goes on? Is your wife right that there’s been some change in you?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Has anything changed at work; any recent pressure?”
“Sure. Lots of deadlines, and my own work like the side jobs I take care of on Saturdays and my day off.”
“Your wife thinks you’re forgetting things. Is that true?” A distracted George did not respond. Burt waited, permitting him extra time before repeating the question.
“Well, one day at work I was going to frame in some doors until the foreman told me I already did it. I was sure I didn’t, but I checked to see and he was right. I just think he was putting me on because I know I never worked on those doors.”
“Is
