Mystery Dance: Three Novels (43 page)

“He’s got me,” Julia said, eyes closed, drenched in the sweat of tension, aching from the hot knife in her chest, seeing her blood spilling on the living room carpet.

“Can you see his face?”

“No.”

“Try.”

“I’m trying,” she said, barely above a whisper. Though the room was sweetened by the chrysanthemums perched in a vase on the doctor’s desk, Julia could have sworn she smelled smoke.

“Try harder. If you can
see
him, it will be a small victory over him.”

“I…” The Creep’s features almost coalesced from the mists of her imagination. The handyman? Mitchell? That college kid who been watching her from across the street yesterday? Or was it older than that, older than her, older than time?

“Who is it? Who has brought this fear into your life?”

Julia exploded from the chair and strode to the window. She paced back and forth, rubbing her upper arms. She was panting, wired from worry yet nearly exhausted at the same time.

Dr. Forrest came to her, put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Julia. I know how much it hurts you to face it. If I thought there was another way to beat it, I’d try it. But you’ve refused Klonopin and Prozac and–”

“No drugs,” Julia said. “I want to beat it with my own head.”

“I know, Julia. But we all need help from time to time. At least you’re letting me help you.” She led Julia back to the chair. “Let’s try something different. We’ve come far enough that I think you’re ready for the next stage.”

Julia sat meekly and Dr. Forrest leaned the chair back, crossed the room, and lowered the lights. The sky was still overcast, the room nearly dark. Julia closed her eyes and waited for Dr. Forrest’s instructions.

“Let’s go back,” the therapist said.

“I don’t want to,” said Julia.

“But that’s where the problem started, Julia. Everything else, all your troubles, your fears, were born there. Your body knows it, your subconscious knows it. All the rest of you is waiting for you to admit it.”

Julia swallowed hard and licked her lips. Darkness. She opened her eyes. Darkness.

“Look up at the ceiling, Julia.”

Julia obeyed, but couldn’t see the ceiling.

Dr. Forrest’s tone softened, but her words kept their even pace. “Look past the ceiling, Julia.”

Julia looked. More darkness, a deeper black.

“Look beyond that, Julia. And while you’re looking, let your arms and legs relax. Your limbs are like large helium balloons, very light, very relaxed.”

Julia floated on that image. For the first time since waking that morning, she felt completely at ease.

Dr. Forrest’s soothing voice came from somewhere near her. “Very peaceful, very light. You trust me, don’t you, Julia?”

“Yes,” she heard herself whispering. It was almost someone else’s voice.

“You’re free now, Julia. Nothing can hurt you. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Julia smiled. Her face felt like a mask of warm taffy.

“You really have to trust me now. We’re going to go back. Way back into the past.”

Julia mumbled a protest.

Dr. Forrest took her hand. “Shhh. It’s okay. This time, I’ll be with you. We’ll go back together. I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

Julia waited, looking beyond with eyes closed.

“I won’t let
him
hurt you,” Dr. Forrest said.

Julia nodded. A few moments more, looking beyond blackness, and she was small again. Four. In her room. Chester Bear against her shoulder. In the middle of the night. Darkness. Darkness. Except…

The light spilling through the crack below the door.

“What do you see?” Dr. Forrest said.

“Light.” Julia’s voice sounded childish even to herself.

“Where are you?”

“My bedroom.”

“Which bedroom?”

“In the house. The big house where Daddy lives.”

“Daddy? How do you know?”

“I know.”

“What’s happening now?”

“I get out of bed. I hear voices in the other room. Loud. Like somebody’s mad. I’m
scared
.”

Dr. Forrest squeezed her hand. “I’m with you this time. Go on.”

She went to the door. The floor was cold beneath her bare feet. “I’ve wet the bed. Daddy doesn’t like it when I wet the bed.”

Julia went to the door, listened. “The people are mad at Daddy. I hear them. The bad people.”

“What does your father say, Julia?”

“I don’t know. I can’t hear him.”

“What do you
think
he says?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try harder, Julia. Do it for me.”

Julia listened. A car horn sounded. Had it come from outside the office, or outside her childhood bedroom?

“No good,” she whispered, mouth dry.

Dr. Forrest was quiet for a moment, still holding Julia’s hand. “Let’s pretend for a little bit. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” said Julia eagerly, not wanting Dr. Forrest to get mad like the bad people.

“Let’s pretend that the people have come to take your father away.”

“No,” Julia cried, trying to sit up. Dr. Forrest held her pinned against the chair.

“You’re at your bedroom door, Julia,” Dr. Forrest continued, holding on as Julia thrashed weakly. “You’re four years old, and the bad people are in the living room.”

“Bad people,” Julia moaned.

“Open the door.”

“No. Please don’t make me.”

“Open the door, Julia.”

Her hand was against the wood, pulling, a mixture of horror and excitement racing through her with every ragged leap of her heart. The light made her eyes hurt and she blinked. The door opened only slightly, but she was afraid the bad people had heard the hinges creak.

She blinked and hugged Chester Bear. Daddy stood in the living room. Three people without faces were with him, surrounding him. They wore black robes with hoods.

“Come on, Douglas,” said the tallest of the faceless people. “You’re either all the way
in
, or all the way
out
.”

Daddy shook his head, his face pale and sweating. “I can’t do that, Lucius.”

“You drank from the cup,” the hooded man said. “You made a pledge.”

“But that wasn’t part of the deal,” her father pleaded. He looked around wildly. It was the first time Julia had ever seen him scared. He’d always been so big, so brave, so strong–

“You wear his ring,” said the leader of the bad people. The other two closed in on Daddy, one at each arm.

“You’re crazy,” Daddy said. Julia almost cried out, but fear tightened her throat and froze her tongue.

Then Daddy looked at her bedroom door, saw the light spilling on her face through the crack. And the bad man, Lucius, saw Daddy’s eyes widen. The hooded head turned in Julia’s direction.

This time she did cry out, dropping Chester Bear and feeling as if she were going to wet herself again. She cried and shook her head, screamed and screamed against the night.

“Tell me what’s happening,” came a voice.

Dr. Forrest
? What was she doing here?

A hand gripped hers.

And Julia tore herself from the past, remembered the earlier sessions and how they had gone this far into Julia’s past, this far and more, and suddenly she didn’t want to relive it again, just wanted that night to stay back there in the dim, dark forgotten.

“You know what happened, don’t you, Julia?”

She nodded. How could she forget? Her mind had tried, had locked it away in some secret compartment.

“Are you ready to tell me about it?”

“No.”

“Julia. I thought we were making progress.”

“I can’t remember.”

“Yes, you can. The body remembers what the mind tries to forget. The memory is in your blood, in your cells. In your heart. Listen to it.”

Remember.

No matter how much it hurts.

“They came and got you, didn’t they?”

“Got me?”

“The bad people.”

“The bad people,” Julia echoed.

“And what did they do to you that night?”

Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot on her skin. Her stomach clenched as if expecting a blow from a fist. The muscles of her arms trembled uncontrollably.

“They…they
got me
.”

“Yes. And you know what they did next.”

Julia shook her head, still denying.
Needing
to deny.

“Let it out,” Dr. Forrest said, squeezing Julia’s hand so tightly it hurt. “Bring it to the light, so you can defeat it.”

It came in a rush. The scraps of images, thoughts like broken glass, a jigsaw-puzzle dream with its pieces spilled in dark water, reflections in fractured mirrors, the splintered bones of memories, fantasies built on smothering air, all clashing together like invisible armies in the night.

Cold stone beneath her naked back. Her legs and arms fastened with rough rope. The candles around her, their orange light flickering off the gray walls and mingling with shadows that slithered like snakes. Above her, ropes dangling from rough wooden beams backed by an endless night. Singing, humming, many voices.

She wanted Daddy. She wanted Chester Bear. Then she saw the bad people. All around her, in their robes, eyes glowing under the dark hoods. Then they were hurting her, even though she screamed and fought against the ropes.

She struggled free, sat up, her lungs on fire. She blinked rapidly.

The office. The impressionist art on the wall, oak paneling, the slight scent of leather and flowers. Dr. Forrest sitting beside her, beaming, her glasses fogged.

“Yes!” said Dr. Forrest triumphantly. “You did it.”

Julia looked around, saw the clock on the wall. Her hour was almost up. Good. She didn’t think she could stand another minute with the punishing past.

“How do you feel?” Dr. Forrest asked.

“Awful. I’ve got a headache. My muscles are sore.” She rubbed her wrists where the imagined restraints had squeezed her.

“The memory’s in the flesh,” Dr. Forrest said. “Psychogenic. The pain’s locked away, too. But we can draw it out.”

“I wish it didn’t have to hurt so much.”

Dr. Forrest put her face near, so close that Julia could smell the
fettuccine Alfredo
the woman had eaten for lunch. “You’re the victim, Julia. Don’t forget that. You didn’t ask to be abused.”

“Except I
do
keep asking for it, don’t I? Isn’t that why I fear The Creep so much? It’s like I expect bad things to happen to me.”

“Yes, but it’s not your fault. You’re helpless. Those people–
bad people
–have enslaved you. The past has a long reach.”

“Then why do I have to keep returning to the past? Can’t we just leave it alone?” Julia shook the smoke and sweat and pain from her head.

“Don’t you want to be better?”

“Good enough. You know that. That’s why I’m here.”

“We have a lot of work left to do,” the therapist said. “But that’s enough for today. I really feel we’ve made a breakthrough this session.”

Julia felt as if the breakthrough had been made from the inside out, that the memory in her meat had slashed and clawed its way to the skin. She stood and gathered her purse, slightly dizzy. Dr. Forrest was behind her desk, thumbing through her calendar.

Julia almost mentioned the wooden blocks, but knew that Dr. Forrest would make her search her purse for the receipt. Because the doctor would say that Julia bought the blocks herself and spread them out on the table to engage in psychological self-torture. A bit of self-indulgent trickery. Julia’s diagnosis would change to something meaty like Schizophrenia, Stable Paranoid Type. And Julia would be no closer to being cured.

“Tell me something about your father,” the doctor said without looking up. “When you used to play on the floor with him.”

No
, Julia thought.
Dr. Forrest can’t read minds. And believing people can read minds will definitely nudge you into the schizophrenic folder
.

“I’d spell my name with my wooden blocks. And he’d laugh and say, ‘No, honey. It’s
Jooolia
.’ And he’d take away the second block and put in three
O’
s.”

“And what would you do then?”

“I’d say, ‘No, it’s not,’ and then he’d laugh and hug me and rub my hair and lay out the blocks the right way.” She glanced at the door, regretting the hour’s excursion from her chronic state of denial. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Recovering good memories is just as important to healing as flushing out the bad ones.”

“Right now I’m tired of remembering.”

“Next week as usual, then.”

Julia nodded. Dr. Forrest scribbled down the appointment. “Call me if you need me.” Dr. Forrest handed her a reminder card. “And I want you to try something for me.”

“Yes?”

“Keep a journal. Jot down some of the things that happen, your dreams, anything. It doesn’t have to be formal. In fact, the more stream-of-conscious, the better.”

“I’ll try,” Julia said, knowing she would do more than try. Dr. Forrest was a good therapist. She wouldn’t assign Julia busy work. Everything was done with a purpose in mind. Julia knew a little therapeutic theory from her own college psychology class. And she wanted to please her doctor.

We’re making progress....

CHAPTER FOUR

Dr. Forrest walked her to the door. Julia went blinking into the parking lot. As always after a session, the world seemed unreal, the pieces of it incoherent and unstable. The asphalt was a separate thing from the ground, as if it floated over ether. The mountains and sky didn’t seem to quite meet up on the horizon. Though the clouds still veiled the sun, the flecks of mica in the sidewalk sparkled like tiny stars, forming galaxies beneath her feet. Even the trees that lined the streets seemed to exist in a two-dimensional universe of their own, as flat as colored leaves pressed in a keepsake book.

It was only after she’d started her car and edged out onto the highway that she remembered her bedroom clock. She hadn’t told Dr. Forrest about 4:06, either. The oddity wasn’t concocted by her imagination. She had the handyman Walter as a corroborating witness. But Julia had unplugged the clock before Walter saw it. She was sure.