"My question is whether money, so much money, creates bigger illusions and makes it more difficult to function down in the reality of everyday life."
"The old ivory tower. huh?"
"Yes, exactly," I said.
"Well, you're right to come to Palm Beach for that research. I can't think of a more representative capital of wealth, but if you're here to learn whether money corrupts or not, my dear Willow. I can assure you, it does."
"I'm sure you can, but that won't do for a thesis conclusion my teacher will accept, even if it comes directly from a prominent psychiatrist." I said, and he laughed.
"Well, I'm a bit relieved to know you're not here for sorrow therapy," he said, sitting back. "Not that I wouldn't have been more than happy to have helped you, but I'm not quite sure what I can do for your project."
"Well, considering my topic and my major, I thought there would be no one better to recommend me, give me a letter of introduction, perhaps, than one of the more prominent psychiatrists in Palm Beach. People are naturally very reticent to speak with strangers and give them the kinds of answers, sincere and truthful answers, I'll need."
He nodded, I noticed he liked little pauses in the conversation. He was a man who obviously measured his words carefully, who knew the importance they often carried even in what some would call small talk.
"Okay." he said. "I'd be happy to do that for you-- depending on whom you want to meet, of course. In some cases, it might actually be
disadvantageous to have my name associated with your project. There are people who still believe psychiatry is a voodoo art form."
"Yes, and for that reason. I would like to remain incognito."
"Incognito?"
"My father had a national reputation, published a great deal, was honored by governors, even a president. People would just naturally associate my name with his and might be very unwilling to talk because of the fear of being analyzed."
"Interesting. Yes." he said. nodding. "That's possible. I suppose, but I'm not sure most of the people you might meet here would know who he was."
"Still,' I insisted. "it would be prudent to have a pseudonym, don't you think?"
"Maybe," he said thoughtfully. "Okay. What's your pseudonym?" he asked.
"Isabel Amou," I said. I thought it would be good luck to call myself that.
"Isabel Amou? Unusual name. Well, then, did your father help you design this project?"
"Yes. We talked about it, and he indicated he had some patients from Palm Beach from time to time and thought it would be a good place for the study."
Dr. Anderson nodded, still smiling, but his smile was a little less full,
He recalled one family in particular. and I remember him saying you had referred this woman to his clinic."
I said it all quickly because I was afraid I might stutter and stumble.
"Oh?"
"And I wondered if she were still living here and if she were still in therapy with you and if she would be a good subject for my study."
"Well" he said, shaking his head. that is quite an unusual request. I don't really know how to react to that. I thought you simply meant letters of
introduction to prominent Palm Beach residents, but actual patients or families of patients. well..."
"I wouldn't ask you to tell me anything about her. My father didn't, of course. He just mentioned the family name. Montgomery. I think he called them one of 'the core,' is that right?" I asked quickly.
"Yes," Dr. Anderson said. laughing. "It's almost like the families who came over on the Mayfower, They are some of the original residents. the A-list, so to speak. He was correct about that."
I nodded. encouraged. "I believe he was going to call you for me right before he died."
"I see. Very unfortunate. He was still a young man." he added.