Chapter 3: First you identify the problem...

"Cheri, do you mind if I make an observation?" Dr. Black sat back in his chair and looked at the young woman sitting in front of him. He sensed something different today, a breakthrough? Maybe not, but there was something she was trying to tell him, but not "tell" him. That part of him that became the detective felt something and like blood in the water draws the shark, this something drew him.

"Of course, Hugo, go right ahead." Cheri sat primly in her chair, hands folded in her lap. She had worn a dress today, a full-length peasant dress, nothing reveling but that and the fact that she made an attempt to look presentable was a decided difference from her normal sweat clothes and tied-back hair.

"It seems like there is something on your mind today. Now we both know the reason you started coming here is no longer a factor. You are through with your grief and have handled it fairly well. The fact that you still come -- and of course you are welcome here for as long as you believe it is helping you -- tells me there is something else, something you are either looking for or maybe need the answer to. Now, we can sit here week after week and beat around the bush with this or we can confront it and deal with it. It is really up to you. My only goal here is to help you become the best you can be." Having said that, he leaned back waiting for her reply.

"I have become aware recently that there is something missing in my life, something I had before and want again." Cheri said slowly. "It is difficult to tell you what that something is but I'll try." Her eyes remained fixed on the nameplate located on the corner of his desk.

Slowly she continued running her thoughts through her mind before verbalizing them. "I have never been a very decisive person. When I was a child my father and mother made all my decisions for me: what to wear, what to eat, what to take in school... pretty much everything. When I graduated from high school I married John and he made those decisions for me." She lifted her face and her eyes locked into his. "I do not say this to complain; on the contrary I enjoyed it. I know many people would say I need to be my own woman, independent and decisive in my own right. Well, I'm not sure that is possible for me or even desirable, but I know that I must do something, I am not being a good mother to Evan; in fact he takes care of me more than the other way around."

Hugo Black sat back and looked at his patient. What she said was no real surprise to him; he had already suspected something of the sort. Cheri Hill had a very submissive personality. Now they had a number of courses of action available. He could try to "cure" her. The problem with attempting a "cure" is that the patient must be at least partially willing to assist -- meet him halfway as it were -- and totally submissive personalities had a tendency to resist that form of treatment. He could offer institutionalization. Submissives did very well in the institutional setting. In an institution they would direct her life right down to what she would eat, to when she went to bed, but that would be such a waste in this case. She was perfectly able to function with what he suspected was minimal guidance. Institutionalization would be a tragedy here.

The real question is what would make her happy, a fulfilled and functional person? It was obvious this personality quirk was not new; she probably had it all her life. Yet she spent over thirty years as a perfectly content person. That contentment is the true goal; the question is how to achieve it? He kept his eyes locked with hers.

"I think I understand," he said slowly. "What we need to do is help you become the best person you can and that may not fit the concept of what society considers normal. I see that our time is up. Why don't you think about what it is you are looking for, what you think will help you. Next week we can take up where we left off. Now why don't you send in Evan? We're running into his time as it is."

"I am thoroughly impressed with your attention to detail and objective observations. Very clinical, and your incremental progression of stimuli is better than many graduates students I know." Dr. Black set Evans journal down on the desk in front of him.

"So, 'Doctor', what, if anything, did your experiments reveal?"

"I... Well, I'm not sure." Evan fidgeted in his seat not daring to look at the doctor.

"I don't think that's quite correct. I believe you do have a conclusion. I would really like to hear it. It may be wrong, or it may be right. It may even be that we will never know if you are right or wrong. But let's take a look at it nonetheless."

Hugo Black was telling Evan the truth. He was very impressed by the young man's attention to detail, use of progressive increase in stimuli and very thorough record keeping. Although the boy couldn't realize it, his few crude experiments and observations fit almost perfectly with the profile Hugo was assembling on Cheri Hill. The question was how much to let the boy know? Would he, or even should he, be part of his mother's therapy? There were many positives and negatives to that situation, but for now it seemed best to let him proceed on his present course. Conventional medical ethics would of course demand the immediate cessation of this line of therapy, but then Hugo Black rarely worried about conventional medical ethics.

"Well, if I had to guess... I think... Well she seemed to be happiest when I told her to do something!" he blurted out. "Not when I asked or hinted, just when I told her to do it. It's almost like she wanted to be ordered to do it!"

A very sharp young man, very sharp indeed, maybe even too sharp!

"Maybe your mother is looking for a little direction in her life. What do you think of that?"

"You mean like for the longest time she did what Dad wanted her to do and now she doesn't have that?"

"Hmm, a little simplistic maybe, but it is a working theory. Why don't you continue what you have been doing and of course keep track of it. She seems to be happier so I can't think that's bad. Well, I'll see you next week. Good work, Evan. What you are doing for your mother is admirable. I know she would approve."

The drive home was unusually quiet; both Evan and Cheri had thoughts of their own to mull over. Evan kept his eyes on the road ahead as a soft rock station played some golden oldies. Cheri looked out the passenger window not really seeing the landscape as they passed it by.