Data Entry Clerk

 There was the ER, and the two brothers trying, between them, to get the one called Jarvis hospitalized in a psych ward for an emergency medication adjustment one night. Jarvis had just gone off the deep end a little bit, with a little help from his totally uprooted environment. He was a professional data entry clerk, in a certain sense of the term.

It all depends on how you look at it.

The reason he felt uprooted, is that he’d just been taken away from the entire geographical area where he’d lived all his life. Jarvis had just recently moved clear across another state, to be in the vicinity of his brother and family, for reliable support in situations like this one, for instance. Jarvis’s confusion caught up with him from time to time.

This was one of those occasions.

Part of the problem at the moment was that Jarvis was experiencing an inability to answer routine questions in just a few words, to make sense to a person who would ask him anything. His speech had become confounded. Jarvis was incoherent. His brother had brought him down South just a few weeks before, and installed him in a senior living environment, where he could be safe, and have his basic needs met, but his meds had stopped working.

Jarvis was mostly having adjustment difficulties. But he had a long standing psychiatric diagnosis, so what he really needed at that particular point in time, was a psych ward, to get his medications adjusted, and nothing less would do, as both men already knew, well enough, by experience. This was a cooperative effort between the two brothers. There wasn’t anything sinister going on with Richard taking Jarvis to the ER. Richard was just trying to help Jarvis.

Their elderly aunt, who had been like a second mother to the two brothers, over a lifetime of being there for her sister’s children, had died suddenly of natural causes in her greatly advanced years. She left Jarvis behind, in a situation where he didn’t have any family around close by, that he could turn to for any sort of help anymore. He had plenty of friends where he was from, and maybe an enemy or two here and there. But Jarvis had suddenly found himself incapable of taking his own medications accurately. His motive was nothing like any kind of malice against himself, either.

His problem was simple confusion.

Richard and his wife, Teri, invited Jarvis to come live in their town, and Jarvis had gladly accepted the invitation. He was just having some difficulty with the adjustment period. One of the things that Jarvis had, before coming down South, was a temporary speech problem. It had cleared up for a brief while there, since it wasn’t an organic problem at all. His communications center in his brain was temporarily malfunctioning. Now that he was ensconced in his new environment, his problem with his speech had returned.

Jarvis was never one to have any problem with speaking, except for the past few months, after he’d accidentally overdosed on his medications in his apartment. He’d always been a good speaker and a very articulate man. This speech impediment was something new, which Jarvis frankly found terrifying. Jarvis was accustomed to being very well able to express himself, and the idea that he could neither speak nor write, was something very disquieting for the older, middle-aged gentleman.

Since Jarvis was having enough of a speech impediment, he would not be able to communicate for himself in the triage process, so Richard went to bat for him with psych triage in the ER. That is, by the time psych triage finally arrived at the ER in the middle of the night to interview them. The men had been holed up in a cubical for the longest time, not talking much, obviously enough. The hours crept by, and finally the nurse brought them some refreshment. First, she brought ginger ale and crackers. Later, she brought microwaveable dinners, piping hot, since the vigil, awaiting the arrival of psych triage, had taken a considerable length of time.

When the moment finally arrived, Richard debriefed psych triage, with Jarvis’s extensive psych history, which he knew very well from a lifetime of experience with his brother. Richard found that he had to go elsewhere with the triage person, because Jarvis was too unruly to allow the interview to take place in his presence.

Jarvis ended up doing his data entry in his head in some kind of crazy house, playing the game to win, was the way he thought about what he was doing. He was in foreign territory, in the back of some cop’s cruiser, trying to play the game to win on some interstate highway he’d never seen before, going someplace he didn’t know anything about in the dead of night. Jarvis didn’t even know why he chose that figure of speech. Jarvis was hundreds of miles away from everything familiar to him, and he found himself alone in the back of some cop car.

Jarvis had played that way on his own computer keyboard at home, because he knew it was not a game to him. Jarvis knew that he was into the whole thing to win something really big, like his own life, maybe to win everyone’s lives. Whatever he could do to tell his stories to the world was what he ought to do. He’d spent some more time in the ER, and some time in the back of a police cruiser.

He spent some of the time fixing all the computers in all the hospitals, all around the world, to function more easily than they ever had before. He was a facilitator. Jarvis synchronized the whole medical mainframe business in all the ER’s around the entire world, with the sheer force of his will. The people at the ER who understood what Jarvis was doing, became afraid of him. It had become obvious to the authorities at the ER that Jarvis had some sort of super human power over their computing systems, there was no doubt about it.

He never went to a terminal to do it, either.

They kept having to send people the whole way around the circuit of terminals throughout the hospital, in order to keep up with the improvements Jarvis was doing from his cubicle, without ever touching anything with his hands. The whole miracle was being performed with the professional’s thought processes. That’s what Jarvis was: a professional data entry clerk. No matter what they tried to do to out step the guy on their systems, Jarvis was way ahead of them. He was the deliverer in that ER, and they locked him up for it. They found his power threatening.

It was sort of like what you read about Jesus in the Bible.

Jarvis was someone who could pray, whenever a radio call would come in, with a respiratory patient having trouble breathing, and by the time the man showed up at the ER, Jarvis had the guy’s bronchial tubes all opened up and relaxed for him. The old codger was feeling a lot better, and the doctor even took the oxygen mask off his face for him, so he could talk to him. The man was cured, by the savior in cubical number seven. The professional data entry clerk did the best for everyone in that whole environment, and the whole team, who understood what he’d done, locked him up for it.

Thanks a lot, guys. Why don’t you just crucify me?

So, Jarvis ended up in the funny farm, and he had the idea he was just going in there, to be there for only a few minutes, so some doctor could look him over. The poor guy was really confused by the time he got to Mary Dell, or whatever the hell the place was called. He was from up North, and his brother had just recently brought him down South, to Dixieland to live, because his aunt up North had finally passed on. Richard knew Jarvis needed the support.

Jarvis was monumentally confused, by the time he got to Mary Dell Hospital, down in ole Dixieland. He was one of several guys on some kind of a ward, and he thought he was going to be leaving in just a few minutes after he’d just gotten there. They kept telling him that the doctor wanted him to go to his room, but they actually had to physically show him his room, before he actually got it that he was an inpatient there.

Go figure.

There was this really beautiful young woman in the office at that place, wherever it was. Jarvis kept playing a game with her in his mind. He kept believing he could draw her to him, by simply willing it with his mind, like telekinesis or some such thing. Jarvis imagined she was the other number one professional data entry clerk in the entire world.

There were two of them, like Adam and Eve.

What the world was trying to do was find out who made the first wrong move between the first two people on the planet. Was it the man or the woman, who made the first move that resulted in all the trouble and confusion in the world? Jarvis, and apparently everyone else, were trying to figure out who made the initial mistake in the first version of the Holy Bible. Jarvis was working on how to type the word the fastest, and so was the beautiful young woman in the office. Sooner or later, the girl was going to come to his room, and then he’d have his own, perfectly matched bride.

At least, that was what was going on in his head the night he was hospitalized down by his brother’s place in this world. It was the same brother who’d always been getting Jarvis locked down for losing his mind about one thing or another. This particular time, Jarvis had been trying to figure out his powerful new laptop. Working with his new system, the writer just got carried away.

His brother was just the sort of guy to get him locked up over it, too.

The poor guy was just confused, that’s all it was. He kept trying to figure out how to type the word God the quickest, which is just not all that hard to do, and he had this idea that the Bible should begin and end with the word God, because that’s what the Holy Bible is all about. But then, there was another challenge Jarvis became aware of in his likelihood of a flooding psychosis overwhelming his mind at that moment, not having any idea what that moment really was for him.

What Jarvis was supposed to do next was type the word try the quickest, and do it to win, but he didn’t really understand what the act was supposed to win for him. Then the idea came for him to write the phrase, try God, and that should make his whole world straighten out for him all over again. The problem didn’t seem to be resolved by doing any of that in his sterile little room in the booby hatch, either. Somehow the man was relieved of his duties as the best data entry clerk in the world, and he was once again, only a psychiatric patient in a psychiatric hospital, somewhere he didn’t know anything about. Jarvis was monumentally lost.

The next day, Jarvis was told he was having a hearing, and when he got to the hearing, Richard and Teri were sitting in the room with all the hearing people. There were some kind of formalities, and then Jarvis was re-situated in another psychiatric facility somewhere else. He’d gotten to the point where he just went along with all of this, because he knew he couldn’t understand any of it at all. Jarvis got to spend his 60th birthday on a psych ward, and eventually got sent back to assisted living, locally.

Advertisements

About geostan51

I'm a wordsmith and a craftsman. I've been known to hand crochet just about anything escept granny squares. I've got about twenty titles in my name on the Kindle Store at Amazon.com.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s