The Diary of Cesi MacGee: Ch 1

C H A P T E R    O N E
21 May 1900

The cusp of the 20th century hovered over them and like the birth of any thing, the dawning of eras.  Change and growth were at the height of expectation. Revolutions had begun in science and medicine, literature and the arts. The people brimmed with optimism and focused on all that was new. Such advancement, however, brought about struggles. Some did not long for change and rejected new ideas and methods. As science breathed deeply and charged forward, religion reared up to defend its ground, however unstable its foundations now seemed in light of the new year.

The plaque was new. Shiny, polished brass. The new Superintendent of Medicine had insisted that a portion of their donation monies be used to purchase it. "It will serve as a motivation to our patients and an affirmation of faith in oneself as a doctor." This, however, was not entirely agreed upon by some of the staff.

"A wise man should consider that health is the greatest of human blessings, and learn how by his own thought to derive benefit from his illnesses."
~Hippocrates (460 BC - 377 BC), Regimen in Health

It was the lack of God's influence that seemed to perturb them, in light of the fact that Hippocrates was a Deist and therefore a heathen. The new Superintendent was obviously less interested in the patient's spiritual recovery and more interested in dismissing their deviant behaviors as Medical diseases or- even more absurdly - Psychological disorders. The Head Nurse was not so inclined.

The Superintendent, a young man, too young to be a legitimate doctor as far as the Head Nurse was concerned, was a bright man. He was a skilled surgeon who, though still practicing, had turned his efforts toward research and these modernly embraced speculative "sciences of the mind." Psychology, was a farce, and merely one more way for unholy men to eliminate the Soul from diagnosis and treatment. Superintendent Norrington was just such a man, by Head Nurse Kensey's definition.

Dr. Edmund W. Norrington was a tall man, with dark hair sleekly styled and as fashionable as his expensive London tailored suits. He had a bright, flawless smile which he shared far too often and pale green eyes rimmed with dark gray lines so uncanny as to be mesmerizing, and reminiscent of a serpent's to Head Nurse Kensey's mind. She disliked every aspect of him, even his soft, velveteen voice which was quite hypnotic and even more proof to his evil design.

Kensey, herself, was a proper woman. She wore the old uniforms which were far more modest and better disguised her unwholesome body. Her hair was always tucked beneath her cap. Not a touch of cosmetic touched her face or nails and the only jewelry she wore was her rosary. She was topping out her forties, but through diligent health and devotional prayer, her body was in the utmost working order. Esther Magdelena Kensey was a fairly attractive woman with black hair only just touched by gray which matched her gray eyes, though to tell her so she would snap that vanity was a sin. It was her rigid, cold demeanor which made her unpleasant to behold. Nothing made her smile. Ever.

She most certainly was not smiling today. Norrington was escorting his new staff on rounds to familiarize them with the patients. He had expressly asked her not to tag along. The woman, of course, disregarded this request. She knew more about the patients in HER hospital than any chicken scribble chart would tell them. It also gave her an opportunity to size up these new 'doctors.' Only one of the staff remained when Superintendent Wardsworth was removed from his position. The others were asked to leave. All except the elder Dr. Johnathan Collins. The old man in spite of his age, was rather keen to new methodologies and preferred to do prolonged research and observation before issuing treatment, a habit which Head Nurse Kensey loathed as it only allowed the deviants to continue their deviations unhindered, which in turn only made her job that much harder.

Other than Dr. Norrington and Dr. Collins there were three new doctors: Paul Artfool, whose name was only half right, Whitney Preville and Lorn Boin. All three were fresh from school and brimming with eagerness to impress their new Superintendent with wildly absurd diagnosis and treatment suggestions. It had once been a rehabilitation hospital. Alas, Grayling Boroughs Sanitarium was now a Psychiatric Research Asylum as much as it was a treatment facility.  Norrington had announced that not only would symposiums be held on occasion, but student internships and fellowships would be common. It would increase funding and allow for more advancements in treatment and research to aid the patients. As far as Nurse Kensey was concerned, Norrington had turned Grayling into a medical whorehouse.

- - - -

Rounds were nearly concluded as the gaggle of doctors was quietly ushered through the maximum security wing of the hospital. The patients here were not necessarily criminals, but were more difficult and had tendencies toward violence or uncontrollable outbursts. Norrington had already made note of four patients which he intended to move to the lesser security wings, feeling that their confinement was the primary cause of their behavior, in spite of Nurse Kensey's protests.  He assured her that all precautions would be taken. He had also arranged for 'Orderlies' to guard the hospital; men that were trained in handling unruly patients. Kensey was, of course, displeased with the notion of bringing more men into the hospital. Five doctors was more than enough and the nurses were all quite capable.

Stopping at the final room, Norrington turned the keys in his hand, the metal jingling like a beckoning call of freedom. He pushed the door open and the group filed into the room. Although Nurse Kensey had dutifully remained at the back of the entourage, she hustled toward the patient and placed herself like a sentinel between the Superintendent and the patient's bed. The woman's usually shrewd expression had grown even more so and suspicion squinted her eyes.

Raising a dark brow, Norrington said nothing, only lifted his clip board and read, "Cecelia MacGaoidh."

"Cesi MacGee, Doctor. She won't answer to Cecelia and the Gaelic pronunciation of her last name is crude. We have long called her Cesi MacGee. Your records should show that." Head Nurse Kensey eyed him with a snide purse of her lips into some mock indication of a smile, though it was more frightening than pleasing to look upon.

Norrington gestured with a hand toward the patient, "we won't be changing any patients' names, Nurse Kensey. If she prefers Cesi, that's fine, however there is absolutely nothing crude in her surname's pronunciation or heritage." When the nurse made no reply, Norrington flashed a smile then looked again to his clip board. "The notations on this particular patient are...limited, Nurse Kensey. Is there a reason for this? I do not see even a diagnosis, though she has been here for nearly two years."

"Cesi was one of the girls picked up in White Chapel...her behavior in the halfway houses and prisons was uncontrollable so she was sent here." Kensey showed an obvious disgust for the girl, who had not moved in her bed. She was so still and draped with a blanket in such a fashion as the doctors all wondered if she were not dead.

"Her behavior? She is violent then?" Norrington scratched a note on the clipboard.

"Sometimes...though it is her deviant needs that have forced us to keep her here." Kensey crossed her arms and glared down toward the girl.

"May we see her?" Norrington waved toward the girl, unable to approach with the nurse positioned between them. The woman pursed her lips once more like a sickened lizard, then turned and drew back the blanket. The patient was very young, perhaps eighteen at the eldest unless genetics had been far kinder than life. Her red hair was clumped in dirty locks, the curls like fat springs. She was pale, even more from a lack of sun Norrington imagined, and her frame was very thin.

"I do not understand her condition, Dr. Norrington," Boin spoke up. "What are these deviant needs...and has she been starved?"

"Cesi was a whore in White Chapel, Dr. Boin," Nurse Kensey snapped as if this fact should have been self evident. "Her profession was not out of need for money...indeed, her family is one of the rare few Irish families not living in squalor. They do quite well in London, as a matter of fact. Cesi, however, has been shunned from her family and they send only a cheque every month to ensure that we do not let her out under any circumstance other than complete recovery. She is a Nymphomaniac and has behaved.... homosexual tendencies if unable to seek out a male...she grows violent in her desperation and rebellious to any form of treatment." The nurse finished and lifted her chin defiantly as if challenging the team of doctors to speak otherwise.

"Is starvation part of her treatment?" Boin repeated tersely. "She is horribly malnourished."

Kensey indicated the plate on the floor beside the cot. "Cesi refuses to eat. We have tried fasting as a treatment, but it does not help. We have also tried exorcisms, corporal behavioral modification--"

"You beat her?!" Dr. Preville gasped. "That will resolve nothing. It will only traumatize her."

"Perhaps in your school of Hocus Pocus medicine, Doctor, they teach you these things...but our methods have been practiced here for decades and with great success. Were it not for the Board of Directors taking the opinions of an incurable patient's parents into higher consideration than that of Dr. Wardsworth, this young woman would have received a clitoridectomy and could very well be cured!"

"Well, Dr. Wardsworth is no longer Superintendent here, so his medical expertise nor his methodologies will be taken into consideration any more than the disgruntled opinions of a mourning father. So with all due respect, Nurse Kensey, there will be no more discussion of previous treatments or treatment options," Norrington spoke very firmly, a tone which, from him, commanded respect. "Now, I wish to see this girl's file on my desk immediately. ALL of it. Even Dr. Wardsworth's personal files."

"But--"

"NOW, Nurse Kensey," the man pointed toward the door. He waited until the woman stormed out with a dramatic huff, quite convinced she would breathe fire if nature allowed for it. Once she had left he looked down at Cesi. "Dr. Collins, how long has this gone on? The Ripper case was what...? Two years ago?"

"Yes. Cesi has been here for not quite on two years...but I was not assigned to treat her, nor was I privy to her case. Wardsworth tended to her himself." There was a note of disapproval in this admission as Collins grimaced and shook his head. "If I had known..."

"Well, we must begin fresh and do what we can to repair any damage done. I'll review her file and we can discuss it in detail tomorrow, gentlemen. Dismissed." Norrington was still studying the young woman's unmoving form. The others murmured amongst themselves and debated as they drifted out.

The Superintendent frowned at the restraints on the girl's wrists and ankles. Of course she hadn't eaten.  She could not sit up to eat. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached up to pull the girls tangled hair from her face. Though her baby blue eyes were open, she only stared despondently at the wall. Her freckled cheeks were pale, and her lips had little color.

"Do you hear me, Cesi...?" Dr. Norrington asked, and noted the slow blink. She heard, but would not respond. "Are you hungry?" Again a slow blink. Decisively, Norrington undid the girl's restraints.

"Uncleanly behavior requires deep cleansing," Cesi whispered, her accent the mottled British/Irish of a London-born Celt.

"Did Nurse Kensey tell you that?" he asked. The girl looked up at him, then lifted one hand to trace seductively over her nightgown, her expression coming to life.

Norrington rose, not disciplining or discouraging her sudden sexual demeanor. He smiled warmly as if she were a guest attending tea. "You should eat, Cesi. You need your strength to get well."

Turning he left, closing the door and locking it behind him. Cesi sat on the bed and stared at the door, the vacancy of her eyes disguising the storm of thoughts behind them. So the Devil had been run out of Hell...or was this Angel of Light to be her new tormentor?


- - - -

The day had escaped him, and Edmund found himself adjusting the lamp on his desk to better read over the papers before him. He had skimmed over the thirty-odd patient files, troubled that such a small hospital had so many long term patients. Most cases were mundane. Diagnosis of Hysteria, Mania, Chronic Depression, or Retardation being the most prevalent in the list. Homosexuality and other "sexual deviations" were noted on several files, including one patient with a taste for infants and very small children. There were one or two that suffered severe psychosis. One man a serial rapist and murderer was only confined within Grayling's walls because his father was a prominent political figure, one who donated significantly to the hospital if only to keep his son from a death sentence and anonymous.

As he scanned over the files, Norrington was beginning to think that many of the staff were just as Sociopathic as some of the patients, if not more so. With a weary sigh, he tossed the last file onto the stack and ran a hand over his face with a distressed scrub. Sitting back, his green eyes drifted over to the box left on the floor beside his desk. The lid was secured with side ties, and the name M A C G E E  was scrawled very large on the front end.

The man would be lying to claim he was not intrigued by this case. It was, perhaps, the forthright ferocity with which Head Nurse Kensey regarded the girl. Such righteous indignation and unfettered disgust displayed for this one single patient brewed in him a need to understand. What in this girl could be so despicable as to inspire Kensey's dislike? Cesi's overt sexuality had shown itself to at least a minuscule degree, but not to the voracious level that Kensey described, unless it was merely her malnourishment and weakness which held any exorcise of her 'deviant needs' at bay.

Clearing his desk of the other files, Edmund then unwound the tethers holding the box lid. Lifting it he felt much like an archaeologist uncovering some ancient tomb, eager but also hesitant at what he may find. Within were an odd assortment of items, not at all what he'd anticipated. There were two thick folders of notes, a small tattered silk doll, an ivory comb, a hand mirror and a pin cushion. The doll and comb he could make some sense of, as he imagined she may have had them with her when she arrived and they were taken as punishments to be used as rewards. The mirror was odd as he could not fathom that a girl coming from a prison would have such an expensive vanity mirror. Though of all the odd menagerie, it was the pin cushion which baffled him most.

Sitting back in his chair, the files resting on his lap, Edmund turned the stuffed, fabric ball over in his hand. It resembled a strawberry, with small thread knots for seeds and an embroidered leaf crown. It was old and stained, blots of color faded out in watery spots. Although the little silk rag doll was tattered and old, it seemed better preserved, and of a finer quality than this odd little sack. The man rest it in front of him on the desk with a curious scowl as he opened the first file in hopes of finding some explanation for these little treasures.

The first page, typed in concise, almost cold letters rendered a skeletal record of the girl as she'd passed through various institutions of education and incarceration. The black and white sheet gave no more than the facts as defined by legal authority, but still in its unemotional testimony offered up no reasons for hatred, loathing or the harsh treatment described and displayed by Head Nurse Kensey.

Christian Name: Cecelia Eithne MacGaoidh
Alias: Copper Cesi
Birthdate: 22 November 1882
Birthplace: London Proper
Parents: Dahlia and Eaghan MacGaoidh
Siblings: Ciaran Patrick MacGaoidh, elder brother
Education: formal schooling to age 15

Incarcerations:
13 April 1886 - prostitution
15 May 1886 - petty theft
16 August 1886 - prostitution
4 December 1886 - vagrancy
3 January 1887 - assault
22 November 1887 - public intoxication, prostitution
17 March 1888 - prostitution
1 July 1888 - prostitution
29 November 1888 - deviant behavior, assault

Hospitalization:
3 November 1888 - remanded to Corringston Halfway Home for Girls, enforced protection
5 December 1888 - remanded to Grayling Boroughs Sanitarium for uncurbed sexual deviance, violence

No details marked the record, only an ugly outline which offered no clues as to how a girl of an upstanding family in London was suddenly arrested for prostitution and began a cycling pattern of sexually abhorrent and violent behavior. Edmund rubbed at the scruff of beard that began to shadow his face in these twilight hours. The only answers offered to him were now in the form of handwritten notes meant for no one but Dr. Wardsworth to review. Flipping through them he saw nothing unusual in the beginning. Standard physical examinations to confirm that no disease had been contracted through her promiscuity, no pregnancy. By all standards she was, when she came, quite healthy.

Although dinner had passed and the man had no food, his appetite seemed to be for only answers to the enigma of Cesi MacGee. As Edmund scoured Wardsworth's notes he began a file of his own, jotting down a concise history of treatment and developments, making only minor notations of Wardsworth's diagnosis. He was going to re-evaluate her as though she was a new patient. He had to begin fresh. Dr. Norrington could only pray that she was not too far damaged by routine beatings, absurd religious rituals and unjustified mistreatment. Perhaps, before midnight he could find some explanation for a doll, a comb, a mirror and a strawberry pin cushion; but this, he knew may be asking too much.