Higher Power

by Dilloway, PT

  “They won’t mind. They love you. And so do I. Stay with me. Please?”

  “Of course I will. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

  They made love a second time before Sarah fell asleep in his arms. He watched the same peaceful look on her face as the first time he had put her to bed in her childhood house. “Everything is all right. I’m here now.” At dawn he untangled himself from her body to use the bathroom. He took a last look at her lying there, so beautiful and angelic in the morning light coming in through the curtains.

  When he opened the door, something began yanking him through the bathroom and down the stairs. He called for Sarah, but she couldn’t hear him. He was dragged through the door and into the night.

  Only when he heard Lindsey’s voice did he realize someone was dragging him away from his perch beneath Sarah’s window at the hospital. “No!” he shouted. “You can’t take me away from her! You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “Max, I’m sorry, but you’ve left me no choice,” Lindsey said. “We have to take you back.”

  “What? Where?”

  “Gull Island Psych. I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “You don’t understand. She needs me! You’re going to kill her, don’t you see?”

  “Max, please, calm down or I’ll have to sedate you,” Lindsey said. He heard a tremor in her voice as if she were about to cry. He was hauled up a ramp and roughly shoved into a seat before being strapped in.

  “Hello again, Max,” Dr. Lee said. “Looks like we have some more work to do.”

  Max fought against his restraints, screaming, “Lindsey, please, help me. You can’t take me away from her. Sarah needs me. Don’t do this!”

  He caught a whiff of Lindsey’s perfume before feeling a sting in his left arm. “Max, I’m sorry about all of this. Don’t worry, it’s just temporary,” she said before he passed out.

  Chapter 28

  Max was confined to the isolation room, or what the other patients called “the rubber room.” The walls were not padded, but they were smooth with no windows anywhere Max could find by using his hands. A mattress lay in one corner of the room and a toilet and sink in another.

  He imagined somewhere they had a camera to keep an eye on him, but he couldn’t reach the ceiling to find it. They’d taken his cane after he used it to bludgeon Dr. Lee during their first session. An orderly told Max he’d broken the doctor’s nose and an expensive pair of glasses. He wished he could have done much worse. When Dr. Lee smugly told him Sarah was only a delusion, Max felt the same rage as in Conte’s dream. What he felt for Sarah was not a delusion.

  When the door opened, he assumed it was simply the orderly, until he smelled the combination of rose, sandalwood, and freshly-cut grass he’d come to associate with Lindsey. “Max? Max, it’s Lindsey.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to talk.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t have anything to say to you.”

  “Please, Max, I heard what happened with Dr. Lee. I thought maybe we could continue our sessions here. Would you like that?”

  “Let me visit Sarah and I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “You don’t understand what you’re doing to her. She’s suffering. I can help her. Why won’t you let me?”

  “Max, stop this! Nothing is going to happen until you quit with that story. Do you understand?” He said nothing. She sighed and then said in her joking tone, “This is some place you’ve got here. Should I take the toilet or the floor?”

  “I don’t care. Do what you want. That’s all you people ever do. None of you ever listen to me.”

  “‘You people’? What do you mean by that?”

  “Doctors. You’re all the same. You ask me questions and then don’t listen to the answers, unless they’re the answers you want me to say.”

  The end of the mattress sagged as Lindsey sat down by his feet. He pulled his feet away, pressing himself into the corner so they couldn’t touch. “Max, that isn’t fair. I do want to help you. But I can’t help if you won’t allow me.”

  “If you want to help, take me to Sarah so I can make sure she’s safe. That’s all I want.”

  “I spoke with Dr. Teague yesterday. All her vitals are unchanged. She’s stable. That’s about all you can ask for considering her injuries.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I’m not talking about her physically. I mean, inside. Don’t you understand?”

  “What are you saying, you’re a psychic?”

  “Sort of.” He didn’t know whether he should elaborate or not. She would only think he was crazy, just like everyone else. She would send the orderly in to shoot him up with sedatives again and they’d keep him that way until he was like one of the drooling idiots in the rec room who wandered around in their pajamas all the time. If he said nothing, they would keep him here anyway. Either way, he couldn’t help Sarah.

  “Max, I want to understand. How can you help Sarah?”

  “In her dreams. I can see her dreams and I can control them. I can save her from the nightmares. I can make her happy. We were happy, until you came along.”

  “Her dreams? You mean you’ve been communicating with her unconscious mind? How?”

  “I don’t know. I just can.”

  “Is she the only one?”

  “No. Anyone who’s dreaming.”

  He heard her scratching notes on a pad, no doubt noting how crazy he was to think he could see into people’s dreams. “When did this first happen?” she asked.

  “After I lost my sight.” The first time it happened was during a thunderstorm. When a clap of thunder shook his room, he woke up screaming. Mom and Dad let him sleep in their bed that night.

  The gesture was meant to comfort him, but instead he woke up screaming again after seeing Dad’s dream. His father dreamed about a concert hall where everyone wore powdered wigs and 18th Century clothing. Dad had just finished a Mozart sonata on the piano when a woman came up to him. Max recognized Mom beneath the powdered wig and white face make-up. When Mom began pulling down her dress, Max retreated to his own bedroom, where he locked the door for the rest of the night.

  “So you’re saying that losing your sight gave you some kind of extrasensory perception?” Lindsey asked.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.”

  “A lot of people claim to have some kind of extrasensory ability. I have to admit this is the first time I’ve ever heard about someone being able to see into other people’s dreams. Well, except for the Nightmare on Elm Street movies.”

  “This isn’t a joke! It’s real.”

  “All the supposed psychics think they have a real ability too. That doesn’t mean there’s any scientific evidence to back it up. I’m sorry, Max.”

  “You want evidence? I can give you evidence.”

  “If you have the testimonials of other patients here, that’s not good enough.”

  “No, even better.” Max leaned forward and faced Lindsey. “Sleep in here tonight and I’ll prove I’m right.”

  “I can’t do that, Max. I had to twist a lot of arms just to get in here to see you. They’ll never let me sleep in here.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “It’s not just safety. There’s the ethical problem too. A lot of people on the state board might think sleeping with a patient is a tad inappropriate. I’ll lose my license.”

  “You don’t have to sleep in the same bed. If you want, you could set up a barrier between us. As long as the wall isn’t too thick, I’ll be able to reach you.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “You said you wanted to help me. So help me.” He stood up and began pacing the room as he thought of how to convince her. “Look, if I’m wrong and nothing happens, then it proves I’m delusional, right? But if I’m right and I can appear in your dreams, then you’ll know I’m telling the truth. Either way, doesn’t it help you to treat me?”<
br />
  “I do want to help you, but if I go through with this, they’ll reserve a padded cell for me. What you’re saying is simply not possible. I’m sorry.”

  The mattress creaked and he heard Lindsey’s footsteps nearing the door. He was almost out of time. “I’m sorry too,” he said. “I’m sorry I put you in this position. You’ve been the nicest doctor I’ve ever had and I never meant to hurt you. You have to understand that what Sarah and I have is special. We love each other.”

  “Max, whatever you think your relationship is with Sarah Gladstone, it’s not real.”

  “I know you don’t believe me, but why can’t you give me the chance to prove I’m right? All I want is the chance to show you I’m not the person you think I am.” He collapsed back onto the bed. “No one has ever believed me. Not even my parents. I want someone to believe me, just once. Please, help me.”

  He waited for her response, listening for any sound that might indicate what she was feeling. Finally, she said, “All right, I’ll see what I can do. If nothing else, it might make for an interesting article in a medical journal.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Perry.” She said nothing before leaving the isolation room. After all these years, he would have the chance to prove he was right. As soon as he did, Dr. Perry would have no choice but to let him see Sarah so they could be together. This time forever.

  Chapter 29

  Lindsey squinted into the mirror and frowned at what she saw. While the other girls at school had breasts and boyfriends, she still wore a training bra and had to spend Christmas vacation with her grandparents. She smoothed out her shirt and turned sideways in the mirror. Why couldn’t some of that belly fat migrate northwards?

  At least in Oak Park she could have gone downstairs to watch television or maybe gotten a ride into Chicago for some Christmas shopping along Michigan Avenue. Instead, she was trapped at Grampy and Grammy’s place in Wisconsin. Her grandparents didn’t believe in television and the nearest town three miles down a snow-covered road contained only a general store and gas station.

  She opened the top drawer of the antique dresser and started to take handfuls of socks and underpants from the drawer, shoving them into the cups of her training bra. The imitation breasts ended up crooked, with the left bulging more than the right. Even if they did look real it wouldn’t make a difference. No matter how much her breasts sprouted, her pudgy, freckled cheeks and the pageboy haircut Mother had insisted upon during one of her rare forays outside would still doom Lindsey to looking like a kid.

  The bedroom door opened and her father stuck his head in. Lindsey tried to cover up her breasts, but it was too late. “My little girl’s had a growth spurt,” he said.

  “Daddy, couldn’t you knock first?”

  “I’m sorry, Lindseybear.”

  “Don’t call me that. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

  “All right, Ms. Perry, what should I call you?” Her father turned his back, giving her the opportunity to empty the bra into the drawer.

  “How much longer do we have to be here?” she asked.

  “We’ll go back for New Year’s, as long as we aren’t snowed in. We might need a team of sled dogs to get out.”

  “I hate this place,” Lindsey said. She crashed onto the bed. “It’s all Mother’s fault.”

  Daddy sat down next to her on the bed. “Your mom just needs a little rest. When we get back she’ll be all better.”

  “That’s what you said Fourth of July.”

  “I know it’s tough, kiddo, but we have to be patient with your mom. She’s having a rough time right now. She needs us to be strong for her.” Daddy patted her knee. “Come on, your grandma just made a fresh batch of egg nog. We better get some before your grandpa drinks it all.”

  “In a minute.”

  “I’ll try to save you a glass.” Daddy winked before waddling out of the room. It wasn’t fair, Lindsey thought. Her brothers never had to put up with any of this. Alex and Gavin were already in college and did whatever they wanted. The others got to stay out late every night. They were lucky to get their looks from Mom’s side of the family while she got hers from Daddy.

  She heard Grammy call her name and went downstairs. Grampy sat in his La-Z-Boy underneath a mounted deer’s head. He raised a silver stein he claimed to have taken from Berlin during the war. “About time you came down.”

  “Well, here I am.”

  “Your father said you had a growth spurt. Looks like it’s all horizontal.” Grampy laughed and then took another drink. Lindsey held back tears, cursing Mother for sending her here.

  “Joseph, watch your tongue. There’s nothing wrong with a little baby fat. Here you go, dear.” Grammy handed a mug in the shape of Santa’s head to Lindsey. Grampy muttered something before hoisting the stein again. “If you wait just a minute I’ll take out a batch of sugar cookies.”

  “I’m fine,” Lindsey said. She settled onto the end of the couch farthest from Grampy’s recliner. God, how she missed Oak Park, where she could stretch out on the sofa to watch Christmas specials with Daddy.

  “Dad, you shouldn’t tease Lindsey,” Daddy said.

  “I’m just trying to toughen the creampuff up. Can’t be any worse than what the kids in school say, right Fatty?”

  Lindsey slammed the mug on the coffee table. “I hate this place!” she shouted. The tears she’d been holding back came as she launched herself from the couch. Before snatching her winter jacket from a hook next to the door, she turned to her father and added, “And I hate you for making me come here!”

  “Lindsey—”

  She didn’t wait for him to finish. She pounded down the front steps and ran down the snowy driveway. If only she was old enough to drive, then she could steal the car and drive back to Chicago. But even a hick town in Wisconsin had to have some kind of transportation. A bus, a train, a dogsled, she didn’t care right now. Anything to get the hell out of here.

  She saw headlights approaching from the direction of the house and scrambled across a ditch into the woods so they wouldn’t find her. The forest was silent except for her footsteps crunching through the snow. She kept chugging along, branches and underbrush tearing at her clothes. After climbing over a downed tree, she saw the icy waters of Lake Michigan.

  She cleared snow from a rock to use as a bench while she thought of what to do next. Even if she managed to get home, Mother would be there, lying in bed with a vacant expression on her face, her hair in greasy tangles, and a bottle of pills on the nightstand. It wasn’t fair that Mother could be so selfish.

  She thought of what she’d said to Daddy, deciding she should go back to her grandparents’ house. She would endure Grampy’s verbal jabs about her weight for Daddy’s sake. He didn’t have anyone else with Mother in bed and the boys all gone. He needed her to be strong, not crying like a baby.

  After wiping the tears from her eyes and snot from her nose, she headed back the way she’d come. She trudged up the driveway, where Daddy’s car sat in the same place as when she’d left. She must have imagined the headlights earlier. Had anyone cared that she’d gone?

  She bent down as she crept towards the house. When she reached the front window, she peeked inside and saw Daddy helping Grampy put up a Christmas tree. Where had they gotten the tree? Her grandparents never had one because Grammy was allergic to pine needles and Grampy refused to buy an artificial tree. Daddy must have brought one, though she couldn’t remember seeing him put a tree in the car.

  She climbed up the front steps and turned the doorknob only halfway before stopping. In the glass of the front door she saw a reflection, but it was not hers. The girl looking back at her had a thin face with clear skin. Beneath a striped winter hat, hair the same shade of red as Lindsey’s streamed down past her shoulders. Lindsey turned sideways and the reflection did the same, giving her a clear view of breasts pushing against the fabric of a pink trench coat. Lindsey ran a hand—clad in mittens matching the hat—along her narrow waist. She actually had a
waist! What was happening?

  She opened the front door and went inside to see if anyone noticed the change. “I’m back,” she said.

  Grampy smiled at her, which gave her a nervous shiver. “Hi there, cutie pie. You’re just in time to put on the star.”

  This wasn’t right. Grampy being nice to her? She couldn’t move or say anything until Daddy came over to hand the star to her. This was all wrong; it was all a trick. She wasn’t pretty, Grampy never called her “cutie pie”, and her father—

  She turned around and began to run.

  ***

  Max found her standing up to her knees in the lake, staring down at the water. He floated along the water’s surface, coming to a stop next to her. She didn’t appear to notice him yet. Her face was red, but he couldn’t see any tears in her eyes. “The Gap, right?” she said.

  “What?”

  “I thought I recognized this outfit from when you asked to go to The Gap.” She ran a mittened hand along the pink trench coat. “Everything feels so real.” She continued to look down at the water as she ran a hand along her face as he had done during their first session.

  “Oh,” he said, realizing she meant more than just the clothes he’d given her.

  “I could stay here forever,” she said in a voice so low he had to float closer to hear. “I could grow up pretty and popular with Daddy still alive. Grampy would be nice and Mother wouldn’t be depressed all the time. I wouldn’t ever have to worry about anything ever again. It would be like Heaven.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Except I know this isn’t real. After the sedative wears off and I wake up, I’ll be back in the real world. Fat, no friends, no boyfriend, and my brothers calling only for advice.”

  “I’m sorry,” Max said.

  “No, Max, don’t be. You just wanted me to feel better.” She turned to him and smiled. “I never thought I could be beautiful. When you get so used to seeing yourself a certain way, it’s hard to remember there were other possibilities.”

  “I suppose.”

  “How do you do this?”

  “I don’t know. I just have to concentrate on seeing things and they happen. It’s hard to explain.”