Imbecile Eddy
by D. Grant DeMan
Lanny was mighty excited, "Harold called me down the hall, and we
heard a bump, bump, bump against Eddy's door. I gave a push but Eddy's
legs got in the way, for he was hanging by his neck on a wire from the
ceiling plant hook. We called the guys."
Ten years had passed since Eddy became one of the finest students in
my tenth grade art class, who, burning with enthusiasm, hung around after
school making color-magic creations with second-rate tempera which we
matted and hung with masking tape from the walls.
Five years later I met him at a mall. "You know I'm still painting.
Wow! I discovered a way to show a slide on paper and trace it, paint it
and sell it for much bucks," he raved. I detected some odd behavior, but
thought little of it. Many talented people are blessed also with
eccentricities, are they not?
Therefore I was only mildly surprised when a psychiatric social worker
brought Eddy and his parents to my home, for I had recently received
schizophrenic Brine as star boarder. "Hey, it's my old art teacher. Hi
Teach! Hey, am I going to live here with him?" His eagerness was
contagious, and soon the three of us settled down to a routine, which
involved administering certain symptom-alleviating medications. Brine fit
well into the role of older brother, Eddy's similarly afflicted mentor.
One evening I heard Eddy returning from a Vancouver family outing. He
entered the study and sat in a state of agitation, "I hope I'm not putting
you out, Teach, but tonight I must ace myself. A guy in the city called me
an imbecile, and I know he's correct. I done some imbecilic things."
"Right, Eddy, but first let's go take your medication. You forgot to
pack it this weekend, didn't you," I replied and followed him to his room
where he downed the pills. "Now what's all this acing stuff? You want to
die?"
"I realize my folks will be upset, but I must do it. Help me write
them a note to lessen the pain?"
Poised with paper and pen, I looked up at him, "Shoot, Eddy. What do
you wish to say?"
"First I wanna apologize for the trouble I been, the shoplifting and
crashing the car, and the times I beat my brother," he carried on rapidly:
"Remember when I went and broke Harvey's lawn mower and I came over here
and got yours, Teach, and I broke that too? Tell my folks I'm real sorry
that happened."
"It's done, Eddy. It's done, and I forgive you. For what it's worth,
these things don't make you an imbecile. But you know that," Deliberately
I wrote the sentences one after another. "Is there more?"
"One imbecilic thing bothering me most is when May from Victoria came
by and took me camping."
"I remember," I said. "You came back and she drove right away without
stopping."
"That's 'cause I raped her. She got real spooked and ran into the
woods. I called and she finally came back. But that wasn't very fine of me
to do that, was it?"
"No. It wasn't good, Eddy."
"That's what makes me an insane imbecile. Write that all down in the
note?"
"It's done." I put the pencil down.
"Well, Teach, I guess I'll go and do the deed now. Can I use the rope
in the garage?"
"There's no hurry Eddy. Let's have coffee." His eyes revealed the
medication taking hold.
Eddy's focus changed: "Would you be awful sore if we postponed the
hanging? I mean until tomorrow - or even next week?"
"I'll lock this note unsigned in my drawer, Eddy. Let me know when
you're ready. Okay?"
"Okay. You know, talking it all over with you made me feel great."
"You betcha, Eddy!" Of course it was the meds, I reflected.
A few months later, having deemed Eddy ready to take responsibility
for himself, they lodged him in a new facility in which Lanny was
housemaster, though too debilitated himself to supervise medication.
Eddy pulled through his strangulation, though the tight wire had cut
off the blood to his brain. I visited him once more in a Victoria padded
cell. His eyes rolled beneath the white brim of a protective hockey
helmet, "I'm an imbecile; I'm a damn imbecile, now!" he repeated eternally.
Walking away from the institution, I choked back my tears and mused
into the still night sky, "Well, darn you Eddy. Maybe this time you
finally made the grade."
