Abithica (28 page)

For a long moment, she stood there, just outside the door, getting her bearings. He saw her look of panic, saw her turning back even as he pulled the door shut. Just following instructions.

“Bye-bye, Sarah,” he mused. “Have a lovely trip home.”

Madera Canyon

“Wake up, you two!”

I didn’t think I’d sleep, but the next thing I knew Faith was shaking us both. My starry night had somehow become mid-morning. “We all overslept,” she went on, shaking me again for good measure. “Our appointment is in half an hour, but it takes forty-five minutes just to get to Dr. Chen’s. Even if we hurry, we’re going to be late.”

I hit the floor running, and was brushing my teeth before I was fully awake. Almost nine a.m.? That was nothing new for me, but what about the others? I learned that Steven had left for his office on time—his internal clock had snapped him awake just minutes ahead of the alarm—but he’d insisted Faith grab a few more minutes of sleep, which turned into a few more hours.

I guess it was a good thing I didn’t have time to dwell on how quickly my own time had disappeared. I was ready inside of twenty minutes, thanks to a three-minute shower. Faith, who’d used her own bathroom, emerged looking like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Lane was ready even earlier. He’d used the powder room.

We decided I’d ride with Faith, and Bear would keep an eye on Lane in the pickup. Bear had lost one of his shoes in the night, so he gave up the other three. Lane would return and find the lost one later.

The drive to Dr. Chen’s office was over in the blink of an eye. Everything Faith said on the way had to do with reassurances, but I was too numb for them to make sense. I also heard how much Steven admired Dr. Chen in a professional sense, along with some of Faith’s own impressions of the man, but they were just words. I was sitting there as she drove, but I seemed to be outside myself, surrounded by a thick, gray sludge that let very little get through. It was comforting in an odd way. I seemed to be looking down on everything that was happening, as if I were floating a few dozen feet above the convertible and looking down on the two people sitting there.

Lane followed us into the parking area with Bear sitting in the front seat just like a regular passenger, one paw draped on the window frame. With outside temperatures at a comfortable seventy, both windows were left all the way down. Trucks equipped with “bears” needed no locks.

Dr. Chen’s building was covered with gray-colored glass, which was appropriate, considering what I knew I’d face inside. We got as far as the entrance before I stepped ahead and turned, facing them.

“You two wait out here,” I said. My voice was dull and lifeless, sounding scary even to me. “I’ll be fine.”

Lane shook his head. “You’re my fiancée. I go wherever you go.”

“But—”

“And I’m your mother,” Faith added, “for whatever that’s worth!”

They left no room for negotiation, but the truth was that I needed them with me all the way up to the very last second.

A stiff-looking receptionist met us at the office door. “Oh, good, Mrs. Turner, you’re
finally
here. He’s been waiting for you.”

No eye contact? The woman was watering a plant on her desk, barely looking up. In fact, she seemed to know who she was addressing by looking at Faith’s shoes! On top of that, she was overly groomed, too polished for such an office, with hair so tightly pulled into a bun it looked to be painful. There wasn’t one wrinkle or gap that I could see in her powder gray blouse and slacks. Long sleeves and a high-collar neckline made the whole outfit sort of flowing, reminding me of that creek from my nightmares. If Dr. Chen could hire someone this stiff and brittle, what did it say about his own rigidity?

The building’s interior was freezing! Seventy degrees outside, but the humidity was way down. Who needed air conditioning? Was it Ms. Brittle, because she wore long sleeves? I had goose bumps on my bare arms, and they weren’t from fright! I had on my usual sleeveless blouse, and Faith had worn little cap sleeves. Who’d have thought we’d need sweaters in the middle of the day, even if it was December?

We were literally rushed down a long hallway, bun-lady’s long legs setting the pace. “Even though you’re
thirty-two minutes
late,” she scolded, “Dr. Chen is a very patient man.”

Faith snorted. “Really? Then why are we practically running?”

The woman’s two-inch heels sounded a
tick… tock… tick… tock
down the hall ahead of us
.
My grip on Lane’s hand tightened. We stopped at a desk stacked with forms, where she grabbed a folder labeled “Sydney Turner,” stuffing a fax into it before continuing on. Who’d have sent a fax so recently it hadn’t been put into the folder? Why?

Tick… tock… tick… tock.
Bun Lady was babbling something to Faith, but I quickly tuned her out. Everything was white—floor, ceiling, walls, chairs, even the diplomas hanging on the walls. Hospitals seemed warm and inviting by comparison. Would it have killed them to add a few soothing colors like pale blue or green? I would’ve even settled for a picture or two. My opinion of Dr. Chen sank even further.

I leaned into Faith. “Antiseptic, sterile, freezing. I swear if there’s so much as one needle, I’m out of here.”

Her expression told me she’d already dismissed the sterile environment, including the severe receptionist. Apparently she knew the woman. “Chen is good, and that’s all that counts.”

Our escort paused, then knocked on a closed door and a friendly voice called out “Please come in.”

I took a deep breath, then made the mistake of looking at Lane.

“You don’t have to do this,” he pleaded. “I’ll find another way to keep you safe. I’ll hire a bodyguard.”

Annoyed, the receptionist flared her eyes. “Dr. Chen has an appointment right after yours, and need I remind you that you were late arriving?”

Lane ignored her. “Be honest, honey. Why are you so afraid of this? What do you think will happen?”

“His whole day will be thrown off,” the receptionist whined. “We probably won’t even be able to take a lunch break!”

“Oh, shush,” Faith barked. “and for God’s sake, Nancy, loosen that bun. It hurts my head just looking at it.”

The whiner scowled, knocking louder.

“Yes, come in.”

“Doctor, it looks like they’re going to need more time, lots more. I’ll go ahead and cancel your remaining appointments for the day.” She shot me a look of pity. “Actually, I’ll clear the month out.”

“Atta girl, Nancy! I
knew
you had it in you. Didn’t that feel good?” An amused chuckle seeped from under the door.

“Maybe, but lunch on time would feel much better.”

“There’s no reason you can’t go to lunch. Give them as much time as they need and send them in
only
when they’re ready.”

“I’m ready right now,” I announced, surprising myself. I slid in front of the whiner, turned the door handle and walked in.

The clock stopped ticking.

* * *

Chen managed to swallow his surprise before any of them noticed. The young woman entering his office was not at
all
what he’d been led to expect. Served him right! Having any expectations at all was pure laziness on his part. Wasn’t it just last week he’d lectured a room full of interns—quite passionately, in fact—that patients are verbs? That they’re dynamic, living entities in a constant state of evolution. And here he was, all set to shove said “verb” into a mental box before meeting her.

There was nothing in her demeanor suggesting depression, paranoia, or confusion. On the contrary, she was the embodiment of strength. How could Faith have been so wrong?

He came around his desk, chuckling at himself as he straightened his Tweety Bird tie, then offered his hand. “You are Ms. Turner? And here is Faith—hello, Faith—and this gentleman must then be Mr. Riley. Lane Riley, is it?”
She’s holding their hands, not the other way around. She wants them in here with her. Find out why.
“Welcome, all of you! Please sit down.”

Ah, the young Turner woman chooses the overstuffed blue ottoman. Good, good! And Faith takes the love seat, yes! Lane ignores the red and takes the utilitarian black. Very good on his part, except that this is the fifth time the red one has been bypassed. That’s it for reds and pinks, even if Nancy does prefer them.

“So, Ms. Turner, I—”

“Call me Sydney, Dr. Chen.”

“Perfect, Sydney.”
She’s assertive. Good, but it’s not what I was led to believe.
“This interview is being taped for later review, Sydney. Do you have any objections?”

“Taping is fine. I understand.”

“Good. Then let’s begin.” He reached over and hit the play button on the tape recorder. “It appears that you are looking for a little more tranquility and comfort in your life. Is that a fair assessment?”

All three of them are giving me a puzzled look, which can only mean that Sydney hasn’t found tranquility at all. The hand with the tattoo doesn’t fit the woman I’m seeing here
.
Joining a dangerous gang doesn’t fit, either. Her alleged violent past doesn’t fit. However, they do all point to a need to belong.

“I also assume, from your chair selection, that you don’t like to stand out in any way. That you are averse to being the center of attention.”
She’s releasing Lane’s hand and leaning forward. You’re on the right track.
“Ahhhh, then it would appear we have a spirit seeking nothing more adventurous than belonging. You simply want to fit in, to feel right. How am I doing so far, Sydney? Am I correct?”

Lane cleared his throat. “She wants to remember,” he said quietly. “We think she is unintentionally suppressing something dangerous from her past, making her blot it out.”

“Well, Sydney, how do you feel about that?”

“Dr. Chen, I don’t recall anything about my life prior to a couple weeks ago, but recent events lead me to believe that, for the safety of everybody around me, it is vital that I do remember.”

“Interesting choice of words. Are you aware that you expressed concern for others, not for yourself? Is that why you’re here, Sydney, for them?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m here because they asked me to come, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

* * *

So there it was, after an hour of taking notes and listening—three full pages of notes, both sides. All three parties believed there was a “before-Sydney” and an “after-Sydney” and all three were afraid of the same thing, namely losing the “after-Sydney.” Was this a type of group-induced schizophrenia, perhaps minus the classic emotional instability, detachment from reality and withdrawal into the self? There were indeed such forms. Further, Sydney seemed to have changed remarkably in the past twenty-four hours, according to Faith and Lane. She’d become more assertive and, at the same time, emotionally frustrated. Her earlier references to loss of memory had shifted to worry and concern, even to including Lane’s younger sister, and she’d displayed great emotional stress the previous evening.

Things were coming together, however uncontrolled they might be. It was time to find out what factors were involved. “Sydney, I don’t like the term hypnosis. I prefer to think of it as a very deep meditation. May I have your permission to assist you into a relaxed and meditative state?”

“Why?” Sydney asked. “What will happen?”

“We’re not sure exactly
how
it works, but meditation allows the mind to reach a state of being where healing can occur both mentally and spiritually without using any type of medication. No drugs. Furthermore,
you
retain control. Nothing about this technique forces you to say or divulge anything you don’t want to say or divulge. Hopefully you’ll reach a state of personal enlightenment… particularly in the areas of your concern… if we’re lucky.”

Faith was about to object, but her daughter cut her short. “What do I need to do?”

Good! She’s unafraid. Wants to move forward.
“Well, first we have to learn if
you
can trust
me.
I’d like you to stand up, Sydney. I will stand directly behind you, but not close enough for you to sense me in any way. Then I want you to make yourself into a stiff plank of wood, arms down at your sides and eyes closed. Are you okay with that so far?”

“Yes.”

“And when you are absolutely rigid, I want you to lean backward until you fall. If I don’t catch you, you’ll land painfully on the floor. I will catch you, of course, but you won’t know exactly when I’ll do that. You must put all your trust in me, leaving no part of you in control. You must fall backward believing in me.”

“Okay. I’m ready.” She stood and faced the wall.

“Pay particular attention to my voice, Sydney. Draw your confidence from it. Now become a stiff wooden board… that’s it… and gradually… very gradually… lean back, keeping your eyes closed. Lean back… lean back.” She did as she was told and he caught her.