It was nearly dark when they reached Athens and turned off the highway. The mental hospital was a complex of Victorian buildings on a snowy hill overlooking the campus of Ohio University. When they crossed the wide avenue and turned up the narrow, curving road, Danny began to tremble. The two officers led him out of the van and up the steps to the ancient red brick building with its thin white pillars.
They ushered nim directly through the old entrance corridor into the elevator and up to the tnird floor. As the elevator door opened, the policeman said, “You got pretty damned lucky, mister.”
Danny started to hang back, but the officer pushed him through a heavy metal door marked admissions and intensive TREATMENT.
Instead of a prison or hospital, the ward resembled a long lobby of a small residential hotel, with carpeting, chandeliers, drapes and leather chairs. Both walls were lined with doors. The nurses’
station looked like a reception desk.
“Jesus Christ,” said the officer. “A regular resort.”
A large elderly lady stood at the entrance of an office on the right. Her broad, friendly face was framed in black ringlets, as if she’d just had a hair dye and permanent. She smiled when they stepped into the small admissions office and said softly to the policeman, “Can I have your name?”
“I ain’t the one being admitted, lady. ”
“Well,” she said, “I am receiving the patient from you, and I need your name to document who brought the patient in.” The officer grudgingly gave her his name. Danny stood aside
awkwardly, stretching his fingers, numb from the tight handcuffs.
Dr. David Caul, who had seen the policeman push Milligan into the office, glared and snapped, “Take those goddamned handcuffs off him!”
The officer fumbled with his key and removed the cuffs. Danny rubbed his wrists and looked at the deep marks on his skin. “Whats gonna happen to me?” he whined.
“What’s your name, young man?” Dr. Caul asked.
“Danny.”
The officer who had removed the handcuffs laughed and said, “Jesus Christ!”
Dr. Caul jumped up and slammed the door in his face. He was not surprised that dissociation had taken place. Dr. Harding had told him the fusion seemed fragile at best. His own experience
with multiples had taught him that a stressful situation, such as a trial, could cause unfusion. Right now he had to gain Danny’s confidence.
“I’m glad to meet you, Danny,” he said. “How old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Where were you bom?”
He shrugged. “I don’t remember. Lancaster, I think.”
Caul thought about it a few minutes and, seeing how exhausted Milligan was, put his pen down. “I think we can let these questions go for another time. Just take it easy tonight. This is Mrs.
Katherine Gillott, one of our mental health technicians. She’ll show you your room, and you can put your suitcase away and hang up your jacket.”
When Dr. Caul had left, Mrs. Gillott took him across the lobby to the first room on the left.
The door was open.
“My room? That can’t be for me.”
“C’mon, young'un,” Mrs. Gillott said, walking in and opening the window. “You’ve got a nice view of Athens and Ohio University. It’s dark now, but you’ll see it in the morning. Make yourself t’home.”
But when she left him alone, he stayed in the chair outside his room and sat, afraid to move, until one of the other mental health technicians started turning out the lights in the corridor.
He went into his room and sat on the bed, his body trembling, tears in his eyes. He knew that whenever people were nice to you, you had to pay in the long run. There was always a catch.
He lay on the bed, wondering what was going to happen to him. He tried to stay awake, but it had been a long day, and finally he fell asleep.
(2)
In the morning of December 5, 1978, Danny opened his eyes and saw the light streaming through the window. He looked out and saw the river and the university buildings on the other side.
While he was standing there, someone knocked at the door. It was a rather handsome, mature woman with short hair and wide-set eyes.
“I’m Norma Dishong, your morning case manager. If you’ll come along, I’ll take you around and show you where you get breakfast.”
He followed her as she showed him the TV room, the billiard room, the snack area. Through one set of double doors was a small cafeteria with one long table in the center and four square tables the size of card tables along the walls. At the far end was the serving counter.
“Get yourself a tray and some tableware, and you can help yourself.”
He took a tray and then reached for a fork, but when it came out of the canister and he saw it was a knife, he flung it away. It hit the wall and clattered to the floor. Everyone looked up. “What’s the matter?” Dishong asked.
“I—I’m afraid of knives. I don’t like ’em.”
She retrieved the knife, then pulled a fork for him and put it on his tray. “Go ahead,” she said, “get something to eat.” After breakfast she greeted him as he walked by the nurses’ station.
“By the way, if you want to go for a walk through the building, just sign that piece of paper up on the wall there so that we’ll know you’re off the ward.”
He stared at her, dumfounded. “You mean I can go out of here?” ^
“This is an open ward. As long as you stay in the hospital, you’re free to come and go as you please. Eventually, when Dr. Caul feels you’re ready, you’ll be able to sign yourself out of the building to walk on the grounds.”
He looked at her in astonishment. “The grounds? But there are no walls or fences?”
She smiled. “That’s right. This is a hospital, not a prison.”
* * *
That afternoon Dr. Caul dropped in to visit Billy in his room. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, but I didn’t think you let people like me come and go without being watched the way they watched me at Harding Hospital.”
“That was before your trial,” Caul said. “There’s one thing I want you to remember. You’ve had your day in court, and you were found not guilty. To us you’re not a criminal. No matter what you did in the past, or whatever anyone else inside you did, that’s over with. This is a new life. What you do here, how you progress, how you accept things—how you work with Billy, and bring
yourself together in terms of yourself—that’s what’s going to make you get well. You’ve got to want to get well. Nobody here is going to look down on you.”
Later that day the Columbus Dispatch, carrying the story of Milligan’s transfer to Athens, summarized the case, including the evidence presented in court of Chalmer Milligan’s alleged abuses of his wife and children. It also published a sworn statement submitted to the Dispatch by Chalmer Milligan and his attorney:
I, Chalmer J. Milligan, married the mother of William Stanley Milligan in October of 1963. I adopted William, along with his brother and sister shortly thereafter.
William has accused me of threatening, abusing and sodomizing him, particularly over the period of the year when he was 8 or 9 years old. This accusation is completely false. Furthermore, none of the psychiatrists or psychologists, who examined William for the report prepared for Judge Flowers, interviewed me prior to that document’s preparation and release.
There is no doubt in my mind that William has lied repeatedly and extensively to those who have been examining him. During my 10 years of marriage to his mother, William was a habitual liar. I feel that William is continuing a pattern of lying which he established many years ago.
The accusations by William and their subsequent publication by numerous newspapers and magazines have caused me extreme embarrassment, mental anguish and suffering. I make this statement in order to set the record straight and clear my good name.
One morning a week after Milligans arrival, Dr. Caul stopped by again. “I thought you and I ought to begin your therapy today. Lets go to my office.”
Danny followed him, frightened. Caul pointed to a comfortable chair and sat across from him, clasping his hands across his potbelly.
“I want you to understand that I know a great deal about you from your case files. Its pretty damned thick. Now we’re going to do something like Dr. Wilbur did. I’ve talked to her, and I know she made you relax and she was able to talk to Arthur and Ragen and the others. That’s what we’re going to do.”
“How? I can’t make ’em come.”
“You just settle back comfortably and listen to my voice. I’m sure Arthur will understand that Dr. Wilbur and I are friends. She suggested that you be sent here for treatment because she has confidence in me, and I hope you’ll have confidence in me and I hope you'll have confidence in me too.
Danny squirmed in his seat, then sat back and relaxed, eyes drifting from side to side.
Seconds later he looked up, suddenly alert.
“Yes, Dr. Caul,” he said, placing his fingertips together, “I appreciate the fact that Dr.
Wilbur recommended you. You will have my full cooperation.”
Caul had expected the Englishman, so he wasn’t startled by the change. He’d seen too many multiples to be taken by surprise at the emergence of an alter ego.
“’Ahem ... ah ... yes. And would you please tell me your name? For the record.”
“I’m Arthur. You wanted to speak with me.”
“Yes, Arthur. Of course I knew who it was, by your distinctive British accent, but I’m sure you realize it’s necessary for me not to make assumptions about—”
“I don’t have the accent, Dr. Caul. You do.”
Caul stared at him blankly for a moment. “Ah, yes,” he said. “I’m sorry. I hope you won’t
mind answering a few questions.” “Not at all. That’s why I’m here, to help in any way I can.” “I would like to review with you the vital facts about the various personalities—”
“People, Dr. Caul. Not ‘personalities.’ As Allen explained to Dr. Harding, when you call us
‘personalities,’ it gives us the impression that you don’t accept the fact that we are real. That would make therapy difficult.”
Caul studied Arthur carefully and decided he didn’t care much for the arrogant snob. “I stand corrected,” he said. “I’d like to know about the people.”
“I will give you as much information as I can.”
Caul questioned and Arthur reviewed the ages, appearances, traits, abilities and reasons for the emergence of the nine people recorded by Dr. Harding.
“Why did the baby come into existence? Christene. What was her role?”
“Companionship for a lonely child.”
“And her temperament?”
“Shy, but she can be set off by fear that Ragen will do something mean or violent. He adores her, and she can usually distract him from some intended violence by going into a tantrum and banging her feet.”
“Why did she remain three?”
Arthur smiled knowingly. “It became important to have someone who knew little or nothing about what was happening. Her not knowing was an important protective device. If William had to hide something, she would come on the spot and draw or play hopscotch or cuddle the little
Raggedy Ann doll Adalana made for her. She’s a delightful chilaL I have a particular fondness for her. She’s British, you know.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, yes. She’s Christopher’s sister.”
Caul regarded him a moment. “Arthur; do you know all the others?”
“Yes.”
“Have you always known all the others?”
“No.”
“How did you learn of their existence?”
“By deduction. When I realized I was losing time, I began watching other people closely. I discovered that it was different with them, and I began to brood about it. Then, by asking some questions—both in and outside my head—I discovered the truth. Slowly, over many years, I’ve established contact with all the others.”
“Well, then, I’m glad we’ve met. If I’m to be of any help to Billy—to all of you—I’ll need your assistance.”
“You may call upon me anytime.”
“There is one important question I’d like to ask before you go.”
“Yes?”
“Gary Schweickart mentioned something that has since appeared in the press. He said that from the facts of the case, discrepancies among statements made by all of you and the comments of the victims—things like foul language, statements about criminal activities, and the name ‘Phil’—he believed there might be more personalities than the ten already revealed. Would you know anything about that?”
Instead of answering him, Arthurs eyes glazed and his lips began to move. Slowly, imperceptibly, he withdrew. After a few seconds the young man blinked and looked around him.
“Oh my God! Not again!”
“Hello,” Caul said. “I’m Dr. Caul. Would you mind giving me your name—for the record?”
“Billy.”
“I see. Well, hello, Billy. I’m your doctor. You were sent here and placed under my care.”
Billy put his hand to his head, still slightly dazed. “I was coming out of the courtroom. I went into the van ...” He looked quickly at his wrists and then at his clothes.
“What are you remembering, Billy?”
“The cop put the handcuffs on very tight. And then he shoved a hot container of coffee into my hands and slammed the van door. When he started up, I spilled hot coffee all over my new suit.
That’s the last thing I—Where’s my suit?”
“It’s in your closet, Billy. We can send it out for dry cleaning. The spots should come out.”
“I feel very strange,” he said.
“Would you try to describe it for me?”
“Like something is missing in my head.”
“A memory?”
“No. It’s like before the trial I was more together with all the others, you know? But now it’s like there’s more pieces missing up here.” He tapped his head.
“Well, Billy, maybe in the next few days and weeks we can try to find those pieces and put them back together. ”
“Where am I?’
“This is the Athens Mental Health Center in Athens, Ohio.” He settled back. “That’s what Judge Metcalf said. I remember he said I had to be sent here.”
Sensing that he was dealing now with a partially fused core Billy, the host personality, Caul spoke to him softly, careful to ask neutral questions. It struck him how the change of personality caused a definite facial alteration. Arthurs tight-jawed, pressed-lipped, heavy-lidded gaze that made him appear arrogant had given way to Billy’s wide-eyed, hesitant expression. He seemed weak and vulnerable. In place of Danny’s fear and apprehension, Billy showed bewilderment. Although he answered the questions eagerly, trying to please his doctor, it was clear he didn’t know, or didn’t remember, much of the asked-fbr information.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Caul. Sometimes when you ask me a question I think I’m going to know the answer, but when I reach for it, it’s not there. My Arthur or my Ragen would know. They’re smarter than I am, and they’ve got good memories. But I don’t know where they’ve gone.”
“That’s all right, Billy- Your memory will get better, and you’ll discover you know much more than you expect.”
“Dr. Harding said that. He said it would happen when I fused, and it did. But then, after the trial, I came apart. Why?” “I don’t have the answer, Billy. Why do you think it happened?”
Billy shook his head. “All I know is Arthur and Ragen aren’t with me right now, and when they’re not with me, I don’t remember things too good. I missed out a lot on my life because they kept me asleep for a long time. Arthur told me.” “Does Arthur talk to you a lot?”
Billy nodded. “Ever since Dr. George introduced me to him at Harding Hospital. Now Arthur tells me what to do.”
“I think you should listen to Arthur. People with multiple personalities usually have someone inside them who knows all the others and tries to be helpful. We call that an ‘inner self helper’—or ISH for short.”
“Arthur? He’s an ISH?”
“I think so, Billy. He fits the role: intelligent, aware of the others, highly moral—”
“Arthur’s very moral. He’s the one who made up the rules.” “What rules?”
“How to act, what to do, what not to do.”
“Well, I think Arthur will be very helpful in curing you, if he will cooperate with us.”
“I’m sure he will,” Billy said, “because Arthurs always saying how its important for us to get all together and get well so I can become a useful citizen and a contributing member of society. But I don’t know where he’s gone now.”
As they spoke, Caul had the feeling Billy was gaining confidence in him. Caul brought him
back to the ward, showed him his room and introduced him once again to his case manager and some of the other people on the ward.
“Norma, this is Billy, ’ Caul said. “He’s new here. We ought to get someone to show him around AIT.”
“Of course, Dr. Caul.”
But when she walked him back to his room, she looked at him steadily. “You know your way around here by now, Billy, so we won’t have to go through that again.”
“What’s AIT?” he asked.
She led him to the main entrance to the ward and opened the heavy door, pointing to the sign: “Admissions and Intensive Treatment. We call it AIT for short.” Then she turned and left.
Billy wondered what he had done to make her so curt with him, but try as he might, he couldn’t figure it out.
When he learned that his sister and mother were coming to visit that evening, he became tense. He had seen Kathy, his sister, at the trial, and as soon as he had gotten over the shock of seeing his fourteen-year-old sister transformed into an attractive twenty-one-year-old woman, he felt comfortable with her. But his mother hadn’t been at the trial, at his own insistence. Though Kathy had assured him that his mother had visited him often at Harding Hospital, and before that at Lebanon prison, he had no recollection of any of it.
The last time he’d seen Mom was when he was sixteen, before they’d put him to sleep. But
The last time he’d seen Mom was when he was sixteen, before they’d put him to sleep. But