Street Called Main

Chapter III: Part II - Southbound

Ring! Ring!

Baxter picked the phone off its receiver and answered the call, "Hello?"

"Hi, this is officer Wendall. Can we talk for a second?"

Baxter leaned back in his chair, "Sure, officer. Go ahead." "There was an incident recently with one of your patients: Christopher Harold. He tried attempting suicide last night."

Baxter leaned forward in the chair, "What? What do you mean-"

"He somehow obtained a bottle full of fentanyl tablets. We'd like to know where he filled this prescription."

"It wasn't - I mean-" "Look: doctor - I don't care if you gave him the pills. All I care about is he's receiving quality treatment for his schizophrenia diagnosis."

"He's on a community treatment order-"

"Yes, I know. But it takes more than a community to prevent a homicide; let alone a suicide death. Chris is.. he's like family to us. At least we'd like to believe he is."

"Well - he's taking his medication on a monthly basis-"

"Listen: don't think for one second your life isn't at danger either. That isn't a threat doctor: it's the god honest truth. The minute that Chris feels unrecognized or unloved: is the moment all hell breaks loose for him. Now: I don't know what type of services your clinic is offering him, nor do I care. Let it be known: that if you don't somehow show Chris - love - then; not only will your job, your clinic, your communities; but the entire human race will be at odds and ends with itself. Chris is a very influential figure in society, and that's only because of his extremely high intelligence and pretty face. But if you ever so slightly damage Chris' complexion; more so - or turn him into a celibant monster: he will wreak havoc on not only the garbage cans, but on other souls, so to speak."

Baxter: gulped down his saliva.

Click.

Baxter placed the phone back on its receiver, and leaned back in his chair, once more.