July 31st, 2010 | 
Author:
to fear at all, in fact I had him wrapped around my finger. Kibo on the
other hand was someone I would have to learn. His next comment through
me for a loop.
"'Attention must be paid.`"
"That was from Death of a Salesman. Arthur Miller was born in
1915, and wrote that play in 1949. John Wilkes Booth died in 1865. Why
is he quoting Arthur Miller?" I frantically asked Dr. Guiteau, although
I'm sure he couldn't see the panic I was feeling.
Dr. Guiteau just chuckled. "Listen to him a little longer, maybe
you'll figure it out. Although if you do, you're a better detective
than I. I had to read his file to figure it out. I still don't know
how Dr. Czolgosz deduced it. Maybe Kibo told him, I don't know."
"'I'm an actor Lee, and I'm a good one. But Willy Loman is a part
that I could never play.`"
"Lee! Who the hell is Lee?!?" I blurted out anxiously.
Dr. Guiteau chuckled again. He just didn't understand, did he?
"Tell Dr. Byck who Lee is Kibo," Dr. Guiteau said quietly.
"Why Lee Harvey Oswald of course. Who else would I be talking to?
And DON'T CALL ME KIBO!!!! Please."
"Now don't get hostile," Dr. Guiteau turned back to me. "Do you
understand any better now?"
"Yes," I said, much more calmly. It was really a good think that
Guiteau was so clueless and Kibo was nuts, or I might have been in deep.
I made a mental note to control my emotions better than I had. "But I
still don't see how John Wilkes Booth could be talking to Lee Harvey
Oswald, and how he could be quoting Death of a Salesman."
"Keep listening, maybe you'll figure it out. If not, I guess
you'll have to accept the position so you can look at his file." He
chuckled again. God, that chuckle was getting annoying.
"'You should kill the President of the United States. . . . He
didn't come here to get shot. . . . Lee, when you kill a president it
isn't murder. Murder is a tawdry little crime. . . . when Julius Caesar
got killed--he was assassinated. . . . Ah, you know his name. Brutus
assassinated Caesar -- what?--two thousand years ago, and here's a high
school drop-out with a dollar twenty-five an hour job in Dallas, Texas,
who knows who he was. And they say fame is fleeting. . .`"
My clinical mind was itching to get Kibo in a padded room and go
to work on him. He intrigued me immensely. Dr. Guiteau on the other
hand was extremely simple, and I could manipulate him any way I saw fit.
So I told him, "Kibo here fascinates me enormously. He has stimulated
my professional curiosity to the point where I must see if I can help
him. Therefore I accept the position as your assistant here at U/Mass
Medical Center."
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