Unlocked

by Barnes, Rebecca

  The final and best scenario, which was the last one she had time to create before arriving at Breemont, was the one that, in a few moments, would play out; though, not the way Melanie had foreseen. The final “reunion” possibility was that Clara immediately recognized both of her parents, ran into their arms, and held on for dear life. This was what Melanie wanted to happen. This is what did happen. But, Melanie never thought that her daughter would pretend—would lie—to make this reunion a reality. Sometimes you have to scratch the surface to find the real truth. There would be no scratching today, only smiles and tears.

  When they arrived, they rushed through the doors and to the nurses’ station. Here, they met with Karen, whom Lydia had called just before phoning Mark. Jamil directed the three of them toward the courtyard. They continued to move quickly and with purpose, but when they reached the glass hallway, they slowed and steadied themselves. They paused to watch as their daughter, to whom they were strangers, sat facing Dr. Lindenhurtz at a bistro table. The mid-morning sun highlighted her long, light brown hair, adding dimension.

  Ultimately, Dr. Lindenhurtz noticed them standing at the glass wall. She chuckled to herself thinking they looked like a museum exhibit. The caption might read something about Homo Sapien family units searching endlessly, and sometimes hopelessly, for lost members. She motioned the parents to come in. Mark and Melanie each took a deep breath, made eye contact, and reached for one another’s hand.

  Outside, Dr. Lindenhurtz steadily assured her patient. “Clara, they’re here. If at any time you choose to terminate this meeting, let me know and it will be done, okay?”

  “Okay,” Clara answered, wondering if she had made the right decision.

  Lydia, always observant, picked up on Clara’s apprehension. “Let’s do this: why don’t we come up with a code word. If you, at any time, you become uncomfortable or overwhelmed, just say the word.”

  Clara liked this idea. It was an easy out that wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. She hoped she wouldn’t need to use it, especially since she already knew what she was up against. She was aware going in that she wouldn’t recognize either of them, though she didn’t want Dr. L to know. She wanted Dr. L to think things were going smoothly even if they weren’t. But, she liked that it was there if she needed it. “Chasing rabbits.” She said.

  “What?” Lydia asked as Mark, Melanie, and Karen approached.

  “The code…if I say “chasing rabbits”…you know…because there are rabbits here…then you’ll know what I mean.” Clara thought it was a fitting phrase, not only because the courtyard actually contained rabbits, but also because essentially that’s what she was doing, or at least that’s what she was forcing other people to do. She was distracting them from the fact that she was crazy and needed to be institutionalized by doing something totally different: pretending to be normal, so that everyone would eventually believe that she was normal. With enough practice, maybe even she would believe she was normal. Perhaps it was more of a goose chase, she debated. But, whatever. Rabbits were more readily available.

  Dr. Lindenhurtz nodded comprehension and then her eyes moved upward. Clara took this action to mean that her parents were now standing a few feet behind her. She gulped hard, bit her lip, and stood up. When she turned around, everyone froze. No one was sure what to do next. Clara’s mind raced and she was more frightened than she thought she would be. She looked at her parents’ longing faces and after much pause, she stepped forward and hugged them deeply. She allowed them to do what they’d been dreaming of, holding her in a gentle sway.

  Melanie cried luxuriously as she stroked her daughter’s sun-warmed hair. A few strands were caught in Mark’s stubble, but he didn’t brush it out; he just continued to rest his chin on top of her head as she sobbed quietly into his chest. Clara wondered how long it would be before this felt natural again, before she’d grow accustomed to it. Or better yet, before she had a true “awakening” stripping her of the need to get accustomed to it. She stepped back from her parents and studied Karen’s smiling face. Why did she recognize Karen and not her parents? At least with Aunt Karen there showing approval and making promises, she now knew these two strangers before her must truly be her parents. She just wished they felt like her parents.

  Lydia, per usual, took notes. She noticed the difference between Clara’s reunion with Karen versus the reunion with her parents which had just taken place. She flipped the page back and saw that she had noted “exuberant joy” when Karen had arrived. She returned to the current page and wrote “solemn surrender” to describe the way Clara hugged her parents. She also wrote that when the four of them sat back down to join her at the now too small circular table, Clara had scooted her chair closer to Karen, away from Mark, while Mark and Melanie huddled together, almost opposite Clara and Karen. Lydia thought it fairly normal that Clara would scoot away from parents she didn’t recognize, but she thought it odd that Clara’s parents seemingly did the same.

  “It’s so nice to have you all here,” Lydia began. “Clara seemed to have a bit of a breakthrough yesterday when Karen came to visit. That was a wonderful idea, and I’m glad it worked out for the best.”

  Melanie and Mark smiled at their long-time friend. Karen threw her arm around Clara and squeezed her.

  “Clara was able to look at the scrapbook again yesterday with Karen’s help. It went much more smoothly than her other attempts. In fact, Clara thought for a moment she might recognize the two of you.”

  “And we’re so happy to hear that,” Mark beamed at Dr. Lindenhurtz before turning his gaze toward his daughter, “Clara, we’re so happy.” He repeated and shook his head in joyous disbelief. He reached for her, but she drew away.

  Lydia took note, “Mr. Marcel, I—”

  “Now, Dr. Lindenhurtz, I’ve already asked you to call me Mark,” He smirked, but sounded almost annoyed.

  “Sorry,” Lydia offered uncomfortably, always the preserver of rules and decorum, “Mark, we’ll need to take this slowly, okay? Too much stimulation or moving forward too quickly could be detrimental.”

  “I understand.” He acquiesced, retracting his hand.

  “Doc,” Mark started, “What do you think caused all of this? I mean, why did she…react this way.”

  “We can’t say for certain yet, but in discussing your histories with you two,” She explained indicating Mark and Melanie, “and with Clara, a precipitating factor is almost indisputably your frequent relocation.”

  Melanie looked guilty, “I told you it wasn’t good for her. I told you we shouldn’t uproot her so often, especially now that she is a teenager. She needs to form some lasting bonds in her life.”

  Mark sighed, “Oh, this again. I have to move. For work. What else am I supposed to do?”

  Lydia couldn’t believe they were going to start arguing right here in front of their fragile daughter. She guessed they were under an insurmountable amount of pressure, and they needed some kind of outlet. Too bad it was right here, right now.

  “Get a different job, Mark. That’s what. Maybe all this could have been avoided if—”

  “Melanie, I make good money at BioTech. You know it. We both do. Besides, she’s got Karen, here, and she’s got us. Or, at least, had us.”

  Karen interjected, “And she’ll have you again, guys, don’t worry. Try to stay calm. If she recognizes me, then she remembers her past, okay? And if she remembers her past, eventually, she will remember you guys too. I promise.” She gave Clara another squeeze as Mark and Melanie realized how inappropriate their outburst had been. Tensions had been high, and their nerves were shot. With a tender look, they agreed to disagree.

  Everything about this whole meeting made Clara uncomfortable, even Karen, but she trudged through. She rallied and began to speak. “I feel like I might know you. You both seem so familiar. I just don’t feel like you are my parents. Not yet,” she smiled assuring them. “It’s kind of like when you look at a word, a common word like and or water or dog, and all of a
sudden, you think to yourself there’s no way in heck that is a word. It looks unfamiliar, even though you know without a doubt that it is a word. It’s like that with you guys. I know you are someone. I know you are my…parents…you just don’t look like my parents, ya know?”

  They nodded but did not speak.

  “But the good thing about that whole thing is that eventually you look at the word again, and you think to yourself, well, of course it’s a word. It’s always been a word, and it will always be a word. And, well, I think that’s what will happen with me and you.”

  Lydia was impressed. The kid had a knack for metaphors. This one worked perfectly, and made total sense. It even seemed to comfort Mark and Melanie, who were now visibly less tense. She said, “Clara, nice comparison. So would you say your life is “jumbled” right now? Like the letters on a page?”

  Clara shook her head quickly. “Yes. It’s exactly like that!”

  “Well, Clara, good thing I’ve always been good at word scrambles. We’ll get you unjumbled as soon as possible.” Lydia looked at Clara’s parents and then back to Clara. “Is there anything you would like to ask your mother or father?” She questioned.

  Clara thought for a moment and then said, “Yes. What’s my favorite food?”

  “Easy!” Melanie shouted as if she were on a gameshow, “Pizza, from Luigi’s.”

  “Where did I run away to when I was four?”

  “You were mad that we wouldn’t let you “fly”, so you and Gypsy took off down the street to Mrs. O’Dell’s,” Mark answered with just as much enthusiasm.

  Clara giggled a bit, but then asked, “Who’s ‘Gypsy’?”

  “Your terrier. You loved her so much! When she was hit by a car, you tried so hard to save her with your sweet little hands, but she was too badly injured. We thought you had helped, because she perked up after that, but when the vet saw her, he said she needed to be put down. You never wanted another dog.”

  Clara had remembered the dog and remembered the story; she just wanted to be sure her parents did too. Finally, she asked, “The night I came home from babysitting…you told Dr. L I freaked out on the sidewalk. Why didn’t you take me to the doctor then? Weren’t you worried?”

  “Oh, God, yes, Clara. I’ve never been so scared in my life as when your dad brought you inside screaming and crying over his shoulder. At first, I thought you had been hurt, but then I quickly realized you just didn’t want to come into the house. You kept saying something bad was going to happen, something bad was going to happen. Our first instinct was to calm you down. Soon, you had fallen asleep, exhausted from the episode. Your dad and I discussed taking you immediately to the emergency room, but you were so peaceful. We couldn’t bear to wake you. We fell asleep with you on the couch. When we heard you wake up in the middle of the night, you were completely normal. You got a glass of water and went to bed.”

  “And then I just…came downstairs on Saturday? Like normal? I mean…until the whole not recognizing you thing.”

  “Yes.”

  “And nothing else happened that I don’t remember?”

  “No. Not that we know of.”

  “What was I so afraid of? What did I think was going to happen? Did I ever say?”

  “We never found out. Your dad said it was like you were in a trance when he found you.

  As if you were having a vision of some kind.”

  “A vision?”

  “It was bizarre, Clara. Like something you’d see in a movie,” Mark added. “It was scary,

  and I just wanted to get you inside.”

  “But did you stop to wonder if something bad was about to happen? Maybe there was a reason I didn’t want to go inside. Maybe something bad did happen that night.”

  “Clara, our home is the safest place you could have been. You were with the two people who would go to the ends of the earth for you, to protect you. There was no safer place than inside those walls with us.” Mark explained.

  “But I still don’t understand why I wouldn’t have wanted to go inside. I had to have been “feeling something. Like a sixth sense or something.”

  “Clara, you know we don’t believe in that mumbo jumbo.”

  She didn’t know what these strangers did or did not believe in actually, so she continued, “But sometimes people can sense things…or see the future. Maybe I was having a premonition or something.”

  Mark had become uneasy. Lydia wrote down this observation.

  “Clara, people can’t really see the future. That’s just in books and movies. Your mom and I don’t like all this “I see dead people” stuff. It’s not real.”

  Clara sensed Mark’s frustration and dropped it. She made a mental note to discuss this with Dr. L later. For now, she didn’t want to rock the boat any more than she already had. She wanted to keep the waves to a minimum so that her cover wouldn’t be blown. Clara was quite surprised at herself, surprised she was able to speak to these people and act normally. It had been such a short time since she had lost everything she knew about her life. She figured most people her age would be locked in their patient room—actually, resident room as she had been corrected. They weren’t labeled patients. They were called residents. Clara guessed it was to make them feel more at ease. It didn’t. She thought most residents would be in such distress that they would still be confined to bed, not eating, not drinking, not talking. She thought this because it’s what she wanted to do, but she knew she couldn’t. She was in survival mode and was trying to calculate each step to get herself out of this place.

  Dr. Lindenhurtz, noticing the conflict, expertly maneuvered around this awkward topic for Clara. “Let’s pause and discuss how we are all feeling, shall we? Who would like to go first?”

  Clara volunteered, happy for the distraction. She made it up as she went along, “I’m feeling hopeful.” She smiled awkwardly at her parents. “I feel like I’m not as lost as I was a week ago. And that, in turn, makes me feel a little happiness. I’m happy that I have Aunt Karen,” Clara patted her leg under the table, “and I’m happy that you two are here,” she said to Mark and Melanie. “But I’m also a little scared. I’m worried that I will wake up tomorrow and all of this will be gone. This memory will be gone, my recognition of Aunt Karen will be gone. I worry that I will be gone, mentally, I mean.”

  With that, she ceased to speak and waited for someone else to continue the conversation. It was Lydia who picked up where Clara had left off. “Good Clara. I thought you, especially, would be full of emotions. It’s helpful to verbalize them the way you just did. It’s one thing to feel them, it’s a completely different thing to put them into words and discuss them with others. Nicely done. Who’s next?” She looked around the table at blank faces. She could tell this was a family that wasn’t used to airing their dirty laundry. They all seemed stiff and more reserved than she’d expected.

  When no one offered, Lydia chose for them. “Karen, Clara recognizes you and remembers you fondly. How are you feeling about everything that has happened in the last week?”

  Karen looked down, “Well, guilty for one. I’m elated that Clara knows me. I’m over the moon about it. But then I look at Melanie, the woman who birthed her, and I feel guilty. It’s not fair that Clara should remember me, but not know her own mother. Mel-bel, if I could trade places with you, I would. I swear I would. I’m so sorry, hon.” She reached across the table to hold Melanie’s hand, just as she’d done with Melanie’s only daughter the day before.

  At this point, Melanie, who had accepted her best friend’s hand, once again let loose with tears. “I just miss her. I miss my baby. And I admit, Karen, I am jealous. It makes me angry that you get my daughter, and I don’t; but, I’m also so thankful for it. If there’s any relief in this whole situation at all, if there’s any silver lining, it’s that she knows you. She has one person in her corner, aside from you, of course, Dr. Lindenhurtz. Even if it hurts, I’m happy she has you, Karen. She needs someone.”

  Clara grew incre
asingly more uncomfortable as each person took their turn. To cause so much grief was inexcusable. Karen was no longer the only person at that tiny table who felt guilt. They were all here because of Clara. Everything that was happening was happening was Clara’s fault. It was too much weight to carry.

  “Good, ladies,” Dr. Lindenhurtz navigated the group session, interrupting Clara’s internal monologue. “Melanie, I have to commend you. It was brave to admit your jealousy, and big of you to allow Karen to be a part of this process despite that jealousy. I encourage the two of you to keep an open dialogue about those feelings to keep animosity at bay. It’s a mean animal and it will stalk you if you don’t keep the lines of communication open and accessible at all times.”

  “Mark, we haven’t heard from you yet. How do you feel about what is happening in your life right now?”

  Mark, who wasn’t one for psycho-babble as he had previously stated blatantly to Dr. Lindenhurtz during a prior meeting but relented to, welcoming any chance to help his daughter, remained silent, stoic. He wasn’t an angry or arrogant type, and he wasn’t even the strong and silent type—he wasn’t afraid to show emotion or talk about his feelings in the right context. But this? This felt forced and fake. Everything about this situation is forced and fake. Finally, he spoke.

  “I’m pissed off,” he grunted.

  Clara flushed with embarrassment, and felt what she thought was a twinge might have been fear.

  “Go on,” Lydia coaxed.

  “I’m just pissed at the situation. I work my whole life to provide for my family, and out of the blue this happens. I just want my Clara back. I love her, and I miss her,” he softened as he turned to her. “Clara, honey, I love you. Come back to us, okay?”

  The fear faded, but her embarrassment clung to her like wet clothing. All she could think was I caused this, I caused this, I caused this. She nodded at her father, feeling…affection.

  Lydia had been worried that Mark’s speech would escalate to an inappropriate level of anger, but it didn’t. He had controlled himself well and was able to voice his feelings in the process. Very therapeutic, whether he liked shrinks or not, she thought.