by Pam Tribble
~~***~~
On the last day, Dr. Quinton approached him at breakfast.
“Jonah, you will not be going to Building 3 again today.”
Jonah nodded, “Okay.”
“You’ll be in Building 6. It is the one farthest out, as you know. I’ll explain what we’ll be doing today when you get there.” Dr. Quinton turned to walk away, then, “Oh, and I’d suggest taking the tunnels today. It is miserable outside.”
“All right,” Jonah agreed. He’d heard the wind howling and the ice pelting the window when he’d woke that morning.
As he got up from the table to make his way to Building 6, Jet got up and followed.
“Oh, are you coming with me?” Jonah asked him.
Jet, suddenly intent on buttoning his cardigan sweater and fiddling with the cuffs, answered, “Um, well yes. I thought…I mean, Dr. Quinton suggested…um, we agreed I should sit in on this session.”
“Ohh-kaaay.” Now Jonah was really curious. Obviously today would not be the same exercises and experiments he’d been suffering through.
They arrived at the door of Building 6 and took the stairs up to ground level. Jonah stopped dead when he entered.
It was a cavernous space—like a warehouse. A group of firefighters milled around. One was checking the short flame coming from a portable propane tank. Another appeared to be testing air quality, holding some sort of meter in his hand. Some were moving furniture to the edges of the room. Others stood about talking in low voices.
Dr. Quinton came hurrying over with another man following in his wake, both wearing what appeared to be fireproof jumpsuits.
Jonah began to get a very bad feeling.
“Jonah. You’re here. Oh, good, Jet. You are as well.” Dr. Quinton stopped before them.
Jonah’s mind was screaming for him to run. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his suddenly dry mouth. And a rush of adrenaline hit his system like lightening.
They must have seen the panic in his eyes. Jet laid a hand on Jonah’s arm. “Jonah, look at me.”
Jonah did. Jet’s face was set in determination, but Jonah saw the compassion in his eyes.
“This is why you came, son. You want to know once and for all what happened that day your parents died. This is it.”
Jonah felt his head shaking back and forth in silent denial.
“Just listen to what Dr. Quinton has to say. Okay?”
Jonah just stared at his uncle.
Dr. Quinton cleared his throat. “Jonah.”
Jonah turned to him.
Dr. Quinton gestured to the man on his right. “This is Dr. Lowe. He is an expert in his field. He is a psychiatrist who specializes in guiding patients through traumatic experiences in their lives through hypnotism.
“He can help you go back to that day and relive those crucial moments. We have set up some flammables not far away, as you can see,” Dr. Quinton indicated the set up a few yards away.
His mind screamed “run.” Every muscle was bunched to flee. He never, ever wanted to relive the horror of that day. But Lyra’s face flashed before him. He had to know. He had to find out once and for all…Had he murdered his parents?
Jonah noticed the firemen had all stopped in their tasks and were watching the exchange. It helped him to get a grip on himself. Those people were going to think he was a lunatic. Of course, given the circumstances, they no doubt already did.
Having been caught eavesdropping, the firemen looked away and shuffled around looking busing once more.
Jonah tore his gaze away from them and focused once more on Dr. Quinton. He swallowed, trying to stimulate some moisture in his mouth. “What do I have to do?”
The relief in their faces at his acquiescence was almost comical.
Dr. Quinton led him over to another door. Jonah hadn’t noticed but along the back wall was another room, like that of a sound room in a studio. The vertical walls were composed of plexi-glass with a steel frame, roof, and door.
Inside were an upholstered lounge chair facing out into the main room, a straight back chair beside it, and two more chairs a few feet away.
Dr. Lowe spoke for the first time. “Jonah, come over here and sit on the lounger.” His voice was low pitched and modulated.
Jonah did as he was told. Dr. Quinton and Jet took to two chairs behind him.
“Lie down,” Dr. Lowe instructed.
Jonah obeyed, staring out on the scene in front of him.
“Dr. Quinton tells me you have been practicing mental relaxation techniques and I’m going to walk you through some of those first. Once you are more at ease, I will take you under.”
That sounded ominous, Jonah thought.
“There is nothing to fear,” Dr. Lowe continued. “Once you are under, we will go over the day of the accident together. I will guide you through what you saw and heard, and the emotions you experienced leading up to, and during, the explosion.
“If you psychically caused the explosion which killed your parents, I am certain that the phenomenon will be repeated and the propane tank over there, which represents the gas stove your mother was using that evening, will explode as well.”
Jonah looked at him like he was crazy.
“All precautions have been taken. We cannot be harmed in here. Bullet proof glass. The firemen out there have on their suits and can certainly contain any resulting fire or flying debris.”
Jonah sucked in a deep breath and wished vehemently he had not eaten the scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast that now threatened to come back up.
“When I release you from the hypnotic state, you will remember everything that has happened. Either way this ends, Jonah, you will finally have closure.”
Jonah nodded, uttered his first prayer in over seven years, and closed his eyes.