We fade in on Dr. Gonzalez sitting at a table. He wears an ill-fitting gray suit and a red tie. His long hair is tied back in a pony tail. There is an ashtray and a stack of file folders on the table. Dr. Gonzalez lights up a cigarette.
Dr. Gonzalez says, "I should say this up front. Freud is a mostly overrated thinker. Yes, he has historical importance, but a lot of what he posited was flat out wrong. A colleague of mine once compared him to Marx in that regard. A highly influential thinker that was wrong about most of what he said. Granted, that colleague is somewhat conservative, but I think you get my point.
"Of the many ridiculous things Freud came up with was the Oedipus complex. The idea that boys desire to have sex with their mothers and kill their fathers. At least, in the past I would have said that it was ridiculous. I'm starting to think he may have been right about it. The first part of it, at least.
"I've not been practicing as a therapist that long, but I have seen so many cases of young men who have slept with their mothers or stepmothers. Add to that the women who come to me who have slept with sons or stepsons, and mother-son incest is the one of the most common things I've dealt with! Almost as common as more usual things like depression. This stack of folders here? Only about half the cases!"
He takes a drag from his cigarette and blows smoke.
"Of course, I'm just a statistical anomaly. Many of my colleagues, even a couple who've been practicing far longer, haven't even seen one case of it. How it came to be that I would be called upon for this task so often is just the whim of whatever forces control the universe. Whether that be a god or random chance.
"Still, I can't deny the issue has become fascinating for me. The backgrounds of the subjects are highly varied, as are the circumstances that the relations began.
Take this case for example. One of the earliest that I dealt with. Kevin (not his real name, of course), age 20, came to me about his unusual relationship with his stepmother."
Dr. Gonzalez sets his cigarette in the ashtray. He picks up a file folder and opens it. We fade out.
* * *
Well, Doctor, the thing is... Shit, this is awkward. I know everything is just between you and me, but that doesn't make me feel any less fucked.
Okay, well, here's what's the matter. You see, I've been sleeping with my stepmother. Yeah.
You see, my real mom died when I was 15. Dad and I were pretty broken up about it. After three years had passed, I convinced him he should start seeing women again. Yeah, 48 is a bit late to be dating, but he actually found another wife pretty fast. Beth was a bit younger than him at 36, but she was a kindhearted woman who I got along great with. Pretty good looking too, and I'm not usually into older women.
Well, they got married, and a year later the shit hit the fan again. Dad came down with cancer and got laid up in the hospital. God, I was so sick about it. I couldn't stand the idea of losing both of my parents this early.
I put college on hold and moved back home to do everything I could to help out. I got a part-time job to help pay for expenses. Dad was pretty well off, but I couldn't just do nothing to contribute while he was in the hospital. When I wasn't working, I helped Beth out around the house.
Still, nothing I did felt important. The doctor's gave him a good chance of surviving, but I had trouble believing them. After all, they said the same thing about Mom when she was in the hospital for the accident she was in.
I felt so powerless. I couldn't sleep. I went and visited Dad as often as I could, but it was never reassuring. Beth, bless her heart, did all she could too. But I would still lie awake in bed, dreading that I would get the call saying he didn't make it and that my father was gone.
One night, I was feeling restless and got out of bed. I went into the living room and just sat there on the couch in the dark, staring at nothing. Trying to block all my troubles out of my head and failing badly. I tried remembering all the good times I had with Dad but that just made me feel even worse.
The lights went on. "Kevin? Is that you?" Beth said. She came into the living room wearing a small robe, her long black hair kind of messed up. She sat down next to me.
"Are you okay?" she said.
I sighed. "Not really, I guess."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Well, it's just... I just can't fight the feeling that Dad's not going to make it."
"Oh, honey. I'm sure he will."
"Yeah, I know. It's just... They said the same thing about Mom. The idea of losing Dad so soon after her..."
"Oh, you poor sweet boy. No one your age should have to go through this."
She hugged me. I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down and started bawling. She let me bury my face in her chest. She stroked my hair and back and cooed to me.
"It's okay, honey. Let it all out."
I'll admit, it helped. She was so tender and caring with me, and all that crying did me some good. What a sweet woman Beth is. When I calmed down, she smiled at me and wiped the tears off my face with the tie on her robe. She kissed my cheek and whispered softly in my ear, "It's going to be okay, honey."
