Chapter 7: Disorderly Conduct

Kurt let him pilot the Pipistrel from GC into Miami-Dade, allowing him to log another two and a half hours of flight time. From there he caught a Delta flight to Des Moines but wound up diverting to Cedar Rapids due to weather. Bethany was waiting for him at the bigger airport and when he called her, she had already gotten back on the road for the two-hour drive to catch up with him.

“They’ve been reporting twisters setting down all over the place,” she said once they finally met up. Since they were close and still within visitation hours, she decided to make the drive up to the State hospital so that he could see Molly for the first time in several years. It took them less than an hour and Bobby’s inner turmoil only grew as they neared the place. Ominous storm clouds were moving overhead and he could feel the atmospheric energy as they walked across the parking lot and entered the ancient structure. The 150-year-old building was actually 20 minutes east of Waterloo and presented an eerie backdrop against the formidable storm clouds that churned above them.

Entering the place did little to assuage his misgivings over the whole thing and he began regretting the decision to even come, as they rode in a rickety elevator to the inpatient ward set aside for the Department of Corrections. Several minutes later they were escorted down a quiet hallway by a sour-faced orderly and admitted into the cell/dormitory of Molly Ann Ruston-Hartley. Her room was sparsely furnished with an old iron bed, a small table with heavy metal chairs, and a small counter with a tiny sink. A separate doorway opened to a small bathroom equipped with a toilet and shower. The door was locked behind them after they entered.

Bobby was shocked by the appearance of his mother. He remembered her being strong, attractive, and resilient, with olive-toned skin and dark expressive eyes in a finely chiseled face adorned with rich black hair. He barely recognized the wasted caricature sitting on the edge of her made-up bed. Her hair was thinned out, lusterless, and cropped severely close to her scalp. Her face and body were thin and her once healthy skin was now jaundiced with a waxy pallor. Her once vibrant green eyes were dull and sunken in her bony eye sockets. ‘Good God, Mom, what has happened to you?’ he thought sadly as he entered the room behind his sister. Molly was dressed in a plain white night gown, that hung from her thin shoulders to her calves. She had institution-skid socks on her feet.

“Hi, Mom,” Bethany greeted pleasantly. “Guess who I brought by for a visit?”

Molly’s response caught them both off guard. Her eyes lit up with instant recognition and she cried out excitedly, “Franky! Oh my God!” she gasped as she rose on her frail legs. “Oh Franky, my love! I knew you would come back for me!” she wept, reaching out to him. “Oh, look at how handsome you are.” She gripped his forearm with her ice-cold bony fingers and tugged him towards the bed. “Come, baby. It’s been too long. They won’t check on me for another hour at least.”

Bobby didn’t react well when it dawned on him what she was saying, or her intentions.

“Mom!” Bethany exclaimed in outrage as he jerked his hand out of her grip and backed away in shocked disgust. “That’s Bobby!” She strode forward and grabbed the emaciated woman by her shoulders, shaking her and forcing her to make eye contact with her. “He’s your son for crying out loud!”

Bobby snorted in disbelief and moved to one of the chairs where he sat down and gazed distrustfully in awkward embarrassment as his sister confronted their mother.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Bethany demanded angrily as she pushed her mother back until she sat heavily on the bed.

“Bobby?” Molly frowned up at her daughter and then glanced over at the light blonde-haired boy with the dark tan, sitting at her table, staring at her. “Bobby?” she repeated in confusion. “But Bobby is dead...”

“No! Mother! Franky is dead! That is your son, Bobby!” Bethany blurted irately, pointing back at her brother. “He traveled a long way to see you. Don’t you remember asking about him the other day?”

Something reflective caught Bobby’s eye from beneath the bed and he bent over to see what it was. It struck him odd that the otherwise spotless room would have a piece of refuse lying on the floor. It must have been a candy wrapper.

“Bobby, is that really you?” Molly asked in a near whisper as she regarded the boy.

He glanced up seeing something akin to recognition in her eyes. He nodded with a smile. “It’s me, Mom,” he said softly. His eyes fell back to the wrapper and he sighed as he felt an overwhelming urge to just bolt from the room and catch the next flight home.

“Yes,” the woman breathed incredulously. “Oh, my goodness, you have grown so much!”

‘Since when did they let mental patients have candy?’ he wondered with a frown as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

“I told you he has a girlfriend, do you remember?” Bethany prompted, seeing the distracted look on his face as he produced his phone. “I think he wants to show you a picture of her.”

Bobby instead activated his flashlight function and bent over to get a better look at the plastic wrapper. He cursed aloud. It was a condom. “What the fuck?” he muttered, dropping to his knees, beside the bed.

“Bobby, what are you doing?” Bethany exclaimed with a frown.

“What in the actual fuck is that doing under there?” He replied as he snapped a picture.

His sister knelt down and glanced under the bed to see what he was talking about. Her eyes grew wide. “What the hell?” she blurted. “Is that a...?”

He turned on his video camera and began recording. “Mom? Why is there a condom wrapper under your bed?” he asked carefully.

“Jesus Christ!” Bethany gasped as she got back to her feet. “Mom!” she cried out. “Did someone have sex with you?”

“What?” the distant woman replied with a blank expression. “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?” the girl retorted. She dropped back to her knees and reached under the bed.

“Don’t touch it!” Bobby shouted, freezing her in her tracks. Bethany backed away and sat up on her heels as her brother began panning his camera around the room. He paused at a wastebasket next to the nightstand by her bed. He carefully walked over to it and peered inside with his phone focused on the contents. He pulled his long-sleeved shirt over his fingers and grasped the metal bin by the rim, tilting it to the side. Several crinkled tissues shifted to reveal an unrolled latex condom lying near the bottom of the can. “Bethany call the police,” he ordered, setting the can back where he found it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she demanded, stepping over to glance into the waste basket. “Oh, my fucking God!” she cried and pulled out her phone.

Bobby took a second to pause his recording and send the video file to Jennifer. Then he called her on his video chat app. He began recording again the second her face appeared on his screen.

“Hey Bobby,” she answered curiously. “Did you make it there okay? We saw there were some storms in the area...”

“Mom! Listen up,” he cut her off. “I have a situation here and I want you to bear witness, okay?” When she nodded, he began filling her in while his sister dialed 9-1-1.

“Hello,” Bethany stated excitedly. “My name is Bethany Hartley and my mother is Molly Ann Ruston-Hartley. You probably remember her name from a few years ago during the Discarsio affair. She is currently being treated at the Independence State Psychiatric Hospital and we have reason to believe that she has been sexually assaulted...”

Bobby switched the view of his camera so that Jennifer could see what he was seeing. “Under her bed here, is an opened condom package,” he stated, zooming in on the wrapper.

Molly sat quietly on her bed watching the two of them as they talked animatedly to other people.

“Look ... Officer!” Bethany snorted with disgust. “We have video evidence and I am not about to trust this facility to run an internal investigation! So, you either get some detectives out here or we will take it to the media and let them figure it out!”

Bobby walked slowly over to the waste bin and aimed his camera back inside the container, revealing the used rubber. “And that is about as damning as I can ever imagine,” he said aloud.

“Did you touch anything?” the former attorney asked.

“No ma’am,” he replied. “But I wanted to livestream this so there is video evidence.”

“Smart thinking, honey. Keep it rolling. I will be watching and listening when the police arrive. Don’t let anyone tamper with that waste basket until they get on the scene.” He heard mumbled conversation in the background. “Your father is going to arrange for us to fly there as quickly as possible.”

That was the best news he had heard yet. He turned toward the door when he heard a key rattling in the lock. It opened outward to reveal the orderly and another taller man in a white lab coat. His name badge read Dr. Martin.

“Hello,” he said uncertainly as he glanced around the room and found himself facing two camera phones. “We heard a commotion — is everything okay?” he asked before frowning. “What is the meaning of this? You are not allowed to bring cameras in here!”

“Doctor, our phones were never confiscated when we came to visit. That is your problem,” Bobby replied. “And we will continue to record until the police arrive.”

“Police?” the doctor exclaimed. “What on Earth is going on?” The orderly had a calculated look on his face as he glanced from the two visitors to the woman seated on the bed.

Molly glanced back and smiled at him brightly. “Hi Johnny!” she greeted sweetly, causing him to glance away uncomfortably.

“While we were visiting our mother, we discovered an opened condom wrapper lying beneath her bed,” Bobby answered firmly, keeping his eyes and the camera on the aide to record his reaction. “And when I looked in the waste basket, I discovered a used condom inside.”

The doctor looked as if he had been struck by a bus while ‘Johnny’ the orderly grew pale.

“I must insist that you stop recording immediately,” the doctor demanded. He stepped toward Bobby with his hand outstretched.

The orderly turned and stepped toward the wastebasket, clearly intending to grab it.

“Don’t even think about it buddy,” the boy growled as he deftly sidestepped the approaching doctor. “And you might want to know that we aren’t just recording — but live streaming this encounter as it happens.”

“What ... what do you mean?” Dr. Martin balked in disbelief.

Bobby handed his phone to Bethany who deftly took it and kept it aimed at the two men. He turned to regard the bigger man in the white scrubs. “It means that you are being watched by my adopted mother who also happens to be a Lawyer.” He gazed into the orderly’s eyes, judging his intentions by his panicked expression. “Buddy, if you so much as move towards that waste basket, I will take you down,” he warned. When Johnny hesitated, he placed his body between the man and the metal bin.

The older man had ten inches of height over the boy as well as at least a hundred extra pounds on his frame. Bobby was certain that the orderly was used to getting physical with unruly mental patients. Perhaps that’s why he weighed the risk of doing nothing against the forensic evidence that could ruin his life. He chose to grab for the son of his patient. It was a bad choice.

Bobby calmly watched as the bigger man broadcasted his intentions and countered his grapple by stepping inside his reach and gripping the man’s leading arm by the wrist. He shifted his body, rotating into the arm as he raised it over his head and used his opposite hand to jab at the tender spot on the inside of his elbow. With the stiffened fingers of his hand, Bobby crushed the sensitive pressure point where the median and ulnar nerves traveled up the inside of the man’s arm to the brachial plexus. Simultaneously he spun his opponent 180 degrees and redirected him forcefully against the wall by the door. It happened so fast and smoothly it almost appeared as if they were dancing the tango — except for the color draining from the orderly’s face as his entire arm went limp.

The other three occupants in the room all began talking at once.

“What the...” Dr. Martin exclaimed.

“Jesus, Bobby!” Bethany cried out.

“Johnny!” Molly yelled angrily. “Take your hands off my son!”

“Code Armstrong!” the doctor yelled towards the open doorway.

“Ah! Goddamn! My fucking arm!” Johnny screamed in agony as his elbow began burning like fire.

Footsteps could be heard running down the hallway as Bobby calmly returned to his position, guarding the waste bin. He gazed levelly at the Doctor as two more large orderlies burst into the small room.

“I think we should take this opportunity to de-escalate this situation, doctor,” he said firmly. “Unless you are trying to protect your staff. Is it common practice for your aides to have sex with patients?”

“Certainly not!” the doctor retorted with disgust. The other two men looked at each other in confusion.

“That’s good to hear. Then you will understand if I ensure that nobody tries to tamper with any evidence until the police arrive.”

They arrived three minutes later, as Johhny was being led from the room by the other two scrubbed aides.