by Dilloway, PT
None of this made any sense to Max. He’d left a young woman on the beach, but somehow she’d regressed into a little girl since then. At least that explained why everything in the house seemed so out of proportion; he was seeing the world from her childish perspective.
The sound of thunder caused her to cry out again from under the blankets. “Mommy? Daddy?” she called out. Max remained still, waiting to hear some sign of the parents coming to rescue her, but he heard nothing. He hovered at the foot of her bed, waiting for the storm to end.
Then he heard a new sound, like pebbles rattling in a glass. He went over to the window and saw hail falling in sheets, each piece the size of a golf ball. After only a minute the hail formed a blanket on the ground like snow. Before long the hail would overrun the house, burying Sarah alive.
Before he could react, the window behind him shattered. Sarah screamed and then dove from the bed to land on the floor. She crawled over to the far corner of the room, dragging the bedspread with her to use as a shield. He heard her sobbing beneath the blanket and then a puddle formed on the floor.
Hail began to pour in through the broken window, piling up on the floor, splintering the vanity, and smashing the bed. Sarah continued to cower in the corner, a shuddering mass of pink bedspread. If she didn’t get out of here soon, she would end up trapped. But even as the hail began to accumulate around the blanket, she didn’t move.
I have to get her out of here, he thought. He ran through the second floor of the house with the speed of a cheetah. In each room he found the windows broken and hail forming a solid wall of ice. He hurried downstairs and found the same thing. There was no safe place in the house.
He heard a scream from upstairs and rushed up the stairs, stopping at the door to her bedroom. In the time since he’d left, she had gone from a little girl to a toddler. She walked on unsteady feet, holding on to the wall to keep from falling. “Mama? Dada?” she called out. She repeated the cry again with each unsure step. Meanwhile, the hail continued to accumulate.
She tottered forward another step and then collapsed to the floor when thunder shook the house again. A gash opened on the right knee of her pink overalls. She wailed at the sight of blood, her face turning a livid red. “Mama! Dada!” she screamed, the longing echoing his own when his parents died. He had to stop this.
He drifted down the stairs and went outside to stand amongst the hail. The chunks of ice continued to fall around him as he raised his arms. The hail decreased from golf ball-sized to marble-sized, and then stopped altogether. The clouds turned from black to gray and finally to white. Then the sky lightened from total darkness to early morning hues of orange, yellow, and red.
Max listened to the silence for a moment, and then began to repair the damage. He swept the hail onto the beach, dumping it into the ocean to melt. Then he replaced the broken panes of glass throughout the house. Upstairs, he found an infant Sarah lying on the floor, sucking her thumb and cooing as she slept. When he put a hand on her head, she grew from a baby to the young woman he’d left on the beach. Around her, the house took on normal proportions.
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her away from her childhood room into the master bedroom. He disturbed the hospital corners of the bed to wrap her in the bedspread. Then he placed a hand on her forehead and leaned down to whisper into her ear, “Everything is all right. I’m here now.” She stirred at his words, but her eyes didn’t open.
He remained at her side until the sun rose to welcome a new day. She continued to sleep, an infant-like look of peace still on her face. “You’ll be fine,” he said and then backed towards the door. He went down the stairs, out the front door, and to the beach until the world disappeared into darkness again.
Outside the room, the nurse said, “You look tired.”
“How long was I in there?”
“About an hour. You must have had a lot to talk about.”
“A lot of catching up to do.”
“Well, don’t be a stranger. Come back anytime between eight and eight.”
“I will,” he said. He thought about the emptiness of the house in her dream and how she went from a woman to a helpless infant. She needed him. For as long as it took, he would come back here and protect her from the dangers of her mind.
Chapter 5
At Midway House, Max ignored Mrs. Garnett and went upstairs to his bedroom. He put on a record of Beethoven’s “Pathetique” sonata and then sat down on the bed. He heard a knock on the door and Mrs. Garnett calling out, “Max, are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said. He turned up the music to let it wash over him while he thought of Sarah.
He could help, but his help might wind up doing more harm than the dangers of her own mind. With his parents and then again with Alberto Conte, his roommate at Gull Island Psych, he’d seen the consequences of meddling with dreams. If he did nothing, though, she might die. He couldn’t leave her there to be tormented endlessly by nightmares.
He drifted off to sleep only to awaken to Sheila’a terrified scream. Before he realized it, he’d gotten to his feet and opened the door to her room. “Sheila? Are you all right?” he asked.
When he found himself standing in the hallway of a high school, he understood that she hadn’t woke up. He saw no one else around, but then heard laughter echoing down the hallway. He followed the sound and found a group of students clustered around someone, laughing and pointing.
He pushed his way through the crowd and found Sheila. In this nightmare she was a pimple-faced teenager with thick glasses and brown hair cut in a boyish style. She was completely naked with arms crossed over sagging breasts. Fat coated every part of her body, including her fingers and toes. Stretch marks lined her bulging stomach and cellulite mottled her bloated thighs and swollen buttocks. As the students continued to laugh, her body expanded like a balloon and acne multiplied on her pudgy cheeks.
“Stop it!” she said, but her voice was drowned out by the laughter. The students had her surrounded, so she could only stand there and sob while her body continued to swell.
The scene reflected the despair and helplessness of Sarah’s nightmares. He couldn’t stand there and watch, nor could he just leave to let Sheila’s suffering continue. Max shoved aside students, opening a hole through their line for Sheila to escape through. As she waddled down the hall, he followed her into a bathroom. She looked into the mirror and touched her chubby cheeks and drooping potbelly as though they were foreign objects. This gave Max an idea.
He had never seen Sheila, especially as a teenager, but he imagined what she might look like. He deflated her body slowly, the fat pouring out in a greasy liquid that disappeared through a drain in the floor. Then he removed the acne a pimple at a time until her skin was clear. Finally, he took away the glasses to reveal her blue eyes.
Sheila continued to weep and patted the firm skin of her body as if unsure it belonged to her. She smiled into the mirror and wiped the tears from her eyes. Max dressed her in a T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans that hugged the new curves of her body. Sheila giggled and then ran from the bathroom to join her fellow students.
“Sheila? Did you have another nightmare?” Mrs. Garnett said. Max pulled out of Sheila’s dream and backed into a corner. “Max, what are you doing in here?”
“I wanted to check on her,” he said.
Then he heard Sheila yawn and her sheets stir. “Why did you wake me up? I was having the best dream.”
Max edged out of the room as Sheila told Mrs. Garnett about the dream and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. As he ate a bowl of cereal, he couldn’t help smiling. Yes, this curse could be a gift, if used wisely. If used wisely, he could ease Sarah’s pain.
When Sheila came down later that morning, she whistled part of the “Fur Elise” he had played so many times before with his father. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” she said to Max.
“No, it’s all right. Thanks.”
On the bus to the hospital,
he imagined Sarah’s reaction when she woke from the coma. “Max, you saved me,” she would say and then hug him. He would hug her back, and then she would tilt her head up so their lips touched. “I love you,” she would say.
His steps felt so light as he went to Lindsey’s office that he felt ready to float. He greeted Lindsey with a cheery hello, but her voice contained a hard edge as she said, “Max, what happened yesterday?”
“Yesterday?”
“You were supposed to visit Pastor Robbins about a job. I received a call from him yesterday saying you never showed up. Is something wrong? Are you having second thoughts?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Something came up.”
“Something?”
“I had to help a friend with something.”
“A friend? At Midway House?”
“Not exactly.”
“Max, I want to help you. I want you to succeed at reentering society, but I can’t help if you shut me out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I thought we had an understanding. I thought we were going to trust each other.”
He heard the pain in her voice, but knew this was one of their best tricks. The doctors all tried to sound like they cared for him, like they were concerned about him, but they didn’t really care. They abandoned him like Dr. Heathcoate or bullied him like Dr. Lee. All the concern and sincerity was just an act to make him show weakness.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“It’s all right. I told Pastor Robbins you would stop by tomorrow. He’s very anxious to meet you.” She lowered her voice and added, “He told me if you didn’t show up the next time he was going to excommunicate me.”
“Really?”
“No, I’m joking.”
“Oh.”
“He is looking forward to hearing you play. This is a great opportunity, Max. A chance for you to make a fresh start. I’d hate to see you blow it.”
“I won’t.”
“Good. I’ll tell Pastor Robbins to expect you.”
“I’ll be there.”
“In the meantime, how is everything else going so far? You mentioned a friend earlier. Who is it?”
“Her name is Sarah.”
“Sarah?” Max heard the doctor’s pen scratch against paper. “Where did you meet her?”
He considered what to tell Dr. Perry. If he mentioned she worked in the hospital, the doctor might find out from the nurse that he had visited Sarah’s room yesterday. Dr. Perry would never believe that he could see into Sarah’s mind. She would probably try to keep him away from the room, for his own good of course. They always claimed to have his best interest at heart.
“I met her on the bus. In the seat next to me.”
“Well, that’s good. What did you and Sarah talk about?”
“Nothing much. Just small talk.”
“That’s a start. After so much time institutionalized, it’s good for you to socialize. Even if it’s just about the weather.” The pen tapped against the desktop and then she added, “You mentioned helping her with something.”
Max squirmed in his seat. What could he tell her that wouldn’t arouse any suspicion? What kind of problems would an ordinary woman riding a bus have that he could help with? “She needed help carrying some groceries,” he said. “So I helped her carry them to her apartment.”
“Her apartment? Where’s that?”
“Over in Fishtown.”
“So you helped her carry them upstairs?”
“It’s on the ground floor.”
“Did you stay there long?” The pen dropped and the chair creaked. She said in a lower voice, “If anything happened, you know, sexually, you don’t have to tell me unless you want to. I’m not going to put anything like that into your file. I might keep it for my own enjoyment later. Just kidding.”
“Oh, no, nothing like that.” He thought back to Sarah’s dreams, when he’d set her on the beach and then on the bed in her parents’ room. As he had seen her lying there helpless, sex had never occurred to him. Not after what had happened with Conte. “I helped her put the groceries away and then put her little girl to bed.”
“I see. Is she married, then?”
“No, not that I know of.” The nurse had said no one dropped by to see her, including a husband or boyfriend. What if she did have someone else who’d come by when the nurse didn’t notice? A beautiful girl like that had to have someone who loved her.
“Are you going to see her again?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good to hear. Maybe we could double-date sometime. Of course I have to find a date first. That might take a couple years.” She laughed, but Max thought of Sheila’s dream. “Well, anyway, I’m very happy for you, Max. You’re making a lot more progress than I could have hoped for in one day. You’re going to make me look like a genius to the board of health.”
“Thanks.”
“Now, how are things going at Midway House? Any problems there yet? Mrs. Garnett said the girl next to you has been having nightmares.”
“It’s not too bad.”
“Good. I’m sure you’re going to like it there. Mrs. Garnett is a very nice woman. Just between you and me she can be a bit loud and bossy, but she’s helped a lot of people.”
“She’s all right.”
Dr. Perry sighed. “Max, I’m not sure what I’m going to do if you keep up these terse answers.” She affected a German accent and said, “Ve have vays of making you talk.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not used to this yet.”
“It’s fine. A lot of patients have a hard time talking to a shrink at first. They’re afraid of exposing their innermost secrets to a complete stranger. I can’t imagine why.”
“I don’t know.”
“So, do you have anything else you want to talk about?”
“Not really.”
“All right, let’s call it a day then. Now, you’re going to meet with Pastor Robbins tomorrow, right? Otherwise, I’ll have to get our biggest, meanest security guard to take you there and make sure you stay.” He waited for her to add she was joking, but she didn’t.
“I understand.”
“Good. I’ll see you there tomorrow. We can have our session in one of the meeting rooms. I hope you don’t mind. Thought I’d at least save you some bus fare.”
“Thanks.” Max nodded to her and then left her office. He found his way down the hall to the nurse’s station near Sarah’s room. The same nurse as the day before greeted him. “Can I see her now?”
“Of course. The doctor just finished taking her vitals.”
“How is she?”
“About the same. Maybe she’ll be doing a little better after your visit.”
“I hope so.” He left the nurse’s station and opened the door to her room. He could feel Sarah’s mind trying to suck him in, but he refused to yield until he’d sat down and taken her hand. Then he smelled smoke.
Chapter 6
He was again in a house, but a different one from the last dream. This time he started in the basement, which also functioned as the laundry room. A rusting washer and dryer and a rack of cleaning supplies sat next to him while a water heater took up the opposite corner. The smoke blew down the rickety wooden staircase leading to the first floor.
Max climbed the steps and threw open the door to find a ribbon of smoke running through the kitchen. Decaying pizza boxes, Chinese food cartons, and empty pints of ice cream covered in sticky residue populated the kitchen.
A door led to a dining room that contained no furniture except for a lawn chair folded against the wall. Paint had chipped from the walls of the dining room and plastic covered the cracked windows. The trail of smoke led down a narrow hallway, growing thicker the farther Max went.
Halfway down the corridor he met a wall of flames. The heat washed around him, but his shadowy presence felt nothing. He ran down the hallway in search of Sarah. The bathroom was engulfed in fire, but he didn’t see her in the old-fashioned bathtub or
hiding in the linen closet. He continued down the hall to an empty room, its ceiling peeled away by the heat, but he didn’t see her in there either.
The doorway at the end of the hallway was already crumbling. This must be the source of the fire, he thought. Through the smoke and flames he made out the ruined frame of a bed and a nightstand next to it. The bedroom continued to burn while Max could only watch in horror.
He stood in the doorway as a twelve-year-old boy again, watching the fire consume his parents while he did nothing. He couldn’t let the same happen to Sarah. He searched the bedroom for her, but found nothing even close to a human body. Then he went back through the hallway to search the rest of the house for her. While he had stood in the bedroom, dithering as he thought of his parents, the flames had spread through the dining room and into the living room.
There, on the couch, he found Sarah. But the woman lying on the couch, a bottle of vodka dangling from her hand, was not the Sarah from the beach or any of her younger incarnations from her childhood home. This Sarah was older, with crow’s feet around her eyes and lines around the corners of her mouth. Her hair was pulled back into a greasy ponytail turning gray at the temples. A bare roll of fat bulged from above her sweatpants; a pink T-shirt reading, “Sassy Bitch” clung to her saggy breasts.
This woman lying on the couch could not be the Sarah he had rescued on the beach. How could that beautiful, vibrant young woman have become this aging, alcoholic wreck? Of course it couldn’t be her, not the real Sarah anyway. This was an illusion, like Sheila’s dream.
When the fire reached the living room, it ignited a stream of spilled liquor on the carpet. The liquor served like a fuse, leading right to the couch where Sarah remained in an alcoholic stupor. If Max did nothing, the fire would consume the couch with her on it.
The fire had already destroyed so much of the house that he may as well start over again. With that, he transplanted the couch onto a blank green plain. He set her down amongst the grass and then made the couch disappear to leave nothing but the two of them.