Matters of Medicine and Faith: A Typhoid Mary Solo

[Judi Strange]

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"A Malicious Fever burns..In our hearts, in our veins.
Your blood, my blood- All blood runs the same."

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    “...free will does not mean one will, but many wills conflicting in one man. Freedom cannot be conceived simply.”
― Flannery O'Connor


How long had it been? For Mary Walker, it was all a simple muddled fugue of moments, days perhaps weeks since her release. Call her what you will, Typhoid Mary, Bloody Mary or a score of other names. At this moment, well as possible she preferred simply Mary. But what it meant to be Mary in these days of “Freedom” by the hand of a chemically controlled regimen of pills was getting harder to say, harder still to see as freedom at all.

“1 pill, 4 times a day, take with food, take with drink.” She recited the labels mantra by heart doing as she was told  to honor conditions of her freedom. Choking it down and drinking it with cold instant coffee, this was how her days began, how they were ticked off the calendar at the halfway house that was now home. “No Alcohol, no drugs, including edibles” she finished the recitation of the rules, silly, but really it was needed.

    The side effects of her cure and freedom left her wrapped in a cotton shrouded daze that dulled her senses, dulled her mind. Often, if she were not tasked, or provided with ready stimuli to force her engagement she simply stared out the window as unmedicated life moved onward at what felt like to her a breakneck pace. This was now, modern medicine in our world, pills to quiet the unruly, stick them in little managed boxes of life and forget about them to be good little worker drones.


It did seem to work as intended, however; Typhoid was quiet, and Bloody seemed totally asleep or dead; ion only that could be true. She wasn't screaming for the blood of all men from the inside dark place of their mind, so with sacrifice perhaps there was progress? She didn’t see the others in the mirror any longer. In some ways, however, this felt more isolated than ever, Mary had, after all, always been the timid sickly one of the litter, now the last one standing left to fend for herself.

    In some ways she missed Matthew, but would never, could never see him again, not in either form. Typhoid craved his pain like a sweet candy confection, perhaps it was how she “loved” if it could be called such a thing. Mary had wanted Matthew first, but Typhoid always got what Typhoid wanted, especially in men, upon seeing him she might cut a bloody path to once again hold him in her tormenting affections.

    She lifted the cup, walked over to the small kitchenette and washed it all up clean. “This can’t be normal, what others feel AS normal. I feel like I’m falling behind the world, like the cost of holding the other back myself is destroying me in the process, it’s not right, not just! I always cleaned their messes, I tried to do and be good. Why must I suffer because of them!” She whispered to not wake others, anguish filled, she choked back a sob as she watched the running water gush down the old, near vintage sink as words for another time, another place arose to haunt her, remind her of this very same line of thought much earlier.

“There is no them, we have discussed this.”

    The words were those of Dr. Allie Graw; my analyst. A young, fresh faced, newly graduated, golden haired ball of perfection. Adorned with with the perky “I’m super smart” black frame glasses to compliment her up do and attire that cost more than most of her possessions. The demure Mary would never say that to her, of course, it would be rude and threaten that her anger was getting the better of her. She feared going back to the Asylum far more than the brain killing medicine.

    Thinking of her, Mary was again in her office, she was picked not because she was the best, but rather because she was a woman, it was a terrible thing for one one to think of another, but deep inside she felt it was true, and therapy was about "Truth" wasn't it? They were worried about Bloody being left alone with a man, Typhoid was just as bad really, only more …erotic? Was that the word for what she is with them before she kills them? In truth; if she were totally honest Mary would have preferred a man, the last thing she felt she needed was another woman poking around in her head.





   

Typhoids Theme song: In this Moment : Sick Like me
Heroes: Magik |Captain Marvel| She-Hulk | Pixie
Villains: Spiral | Typhoid Mary | Loki | White Rabbit