“She would never tell me my father’s name! She refused to tell me who he was, doctor.”
This is how Michael Elton started the interview, when he first appeared in my office. Michael was a single man who lived alone, in a small apartment on the East side of town. He had been referred to me by his Family Practitioner, Eric Chu. All Eric said, in his notes, was that Michael was depressed.
Behind me, the grey light of the late Northwest Fall slanted in through the window over my head. It was raining, and I could hear the drops hitting the roof in a slow patter, tap, tap, tap, like fingers drumming across a tabletop.