The Thunderproof Sky

by Loretta Lost

  “It would be great if you could find someone who can do long distance sessions via video call, or even text chat. This is probably a long shot, but even someone here in Switzerland we can visit immediately.”

  “I’ll call in some favors,” Liam says quickly. “I’ll find someone ASAP—just give me a few hours because of the time difference between here and New York.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is it for Sophie?” he asks.

  I hesitate. “Yes, but please don’t tell her I told you. Consider this your first top secret mission as a big brother.”

  “Alright,” he says proudly. “Mission accepted.”

  He smiles at me, and I continue heading to our room. I feel a little bit better already, like something is being done.

  I should confide in the mountains more often.

  When I enter the room, Scarlett stirs on the bed and turns to look at me through one half-opened eye, peering through a curtain of very messy hair.

  “Coffeeeeeeeee!” she exclaims with excitement. “My hero!”

  And it’s silly, but I do feel slightly heroic.

  When we all meet up at noon, the girls quickly gather and go off in one car for their massages. The guys hang around the chalet, enjoying the free drinks to get a head start on the festivities—and decide on the festivities.

  Liam pulled me away from the others, and handed me a piece of paper with some information written on it, with the phone number and name of a recommended, specialized therapist. I thank him quietly, before returning to the others.

  “So we’re having a day on the town?” Liam asks skeptically. “It looks like a really small town.”

  “Yeah,” Owen says with disappointment. “I’m sorry guys, but we won’t be able to do strippers.”

  “No one wanted to go to strippers other than you,” Liam says to his friend.

  "Can we go skiing?" David asks, glancing at me with a secret smile.

  I’m not even worried. I’ve been dealing with Snow 24/7, so I’m pretty sure David’s murderous tendencies pale in comparison.

  “Yup!” Owen says. “It looks like the Theodul glacier is open year round, and there’s a huge lift. Do you guys feel like skiing?”

  “Not really,” Liam admits. “Sorry to be a spoilsport, Owen, but I’d really just rather grab some food in a pub and chat with you guys. All of this has been a little stressful.”

  “Boring old man,” Owen mutters. “Well, we are missing two dudes—Helen’s dad and James. Should we wait for them, or do this without them?”

  “I think they both felt like they were a little too old for a bachelor party,” Liam says.

  Owen shakes his head. "You’re never too old! Maybe Helen's dad can give us some marital advice. He's the only one here who's been married.”

  "Well," David says glumly.

  "Happily married," Liam adds.

  "Yeah. Cole, I don't think you heard the story," David tells me, putting an arm around my shoulders, as we are chums now. "My ex-wife—she did the worst thing imaginable. The worst thing that a woman can ever do to a man."

  Everyone in the room finishes the story in unison: "She took his dog."

  David sniffles. "It's not funny, you guys. Macaroni was my best friend."

  “That’s a cute name,” Owen says.

  “Her golden fur was so curly, like my favorite cheesy pasta,” David says mournfully. Then he places a hand on his stomach. “Actually, I could go for some pasta.”

  “Yeah, let’s not turn to him for marital advice,” Owen says.

  I find myself smiling sadly. "Well, I've been married before. Sort of happily."

  "Oh, yeah?" Liam asks, with interest. "But I thought you were engaged to my sister. Did your wife die?"

  I smile. "Not exactly. You see, Sophie and I actually had to get married once before, when she was fourteen and I was sixteen. It was the only way we could be emancipated from foster care, so that I could receive the inheritance my dead parents left for me, and pay for us both to go to MIT."

  "Whoa," Owen says in surprise. "You married her when she was fourteen?"

  "You guys both went to MIT?" Liam asks, with a shocked expression. "Why didn't I know this?"

  "Because you walked away from her when she tried to meet you," I respond, with a hard jaw. "I really wish you hadn't done that."

  "I'm sorry, man."

  I didn't realize that somewhere, deep down, I had been blaming Liam for everything that happened to Scarlett after the wedding. If she hadn't left in a rush like that...

  "So, you guys have been together for like fourteen years?" Owen asks. "That's amazing. That's a serious story of love and devotion, right there."

  "Not exactly," I explain, still staring hard at Liam. "You see, Sophie had been treated really badly in her foster homes, so I didn't feel it was right to try to actually be with her. I thought that what she needed at the time was only a brother, to look out for her. So I tried to be that, instead of a boyfriend, or a husband, or whatever. I even encouraged her to date other people. Looking back, I'm not sure if it was the best choice—it only made us both miserable. Because we both wanted to be together, but I kept telling her to wait until we're older. Whenever she tried to discuss it with me, I told her we’d talk about it later. She hated me for that. And eventually, I lost her because of it—for many years. I didn't think she'd ever come back to me, to be honest."

  “This is also not a story of a happy marriage,” Owen complains.

  "That sucks," David says. "But at least you found each other again."

  "Would have been nice if she had an actual brother," I say, angrily, to no one in particular. "So I didn't feel that it was my responsibility to be fatherly for my girlfriend, because she had no one else."

  "I'm sorry," Liam says. "Words can't describe how sorry I am, Cole. I saw you two, together, happy, earlier—obviously wealthy and successful. I just thought you guys had it all, and I didn't know how you suffered... because of me."

  "Yeah, buddy. You basically ruined a good decade of my life," I tell Liam with a grin, lifting my glass. "But it’s all good now. So, cheers!"

  Everyone says cheers and drinks a little awkwardly.

  "But we're going to get married again, for real, as adults. So there's a happy ending to the story, after all."

  "So what would be best suggestion of marital advice for my good buddy, Liam?" Owen asks.

  "Just be a good person. Mean what you say. And do the right thing now, because there might not be time to do it later.” I take another sip of my drink. “Hey, actually staying until the end of the wedding was a good start.”

  Everyone laughs at this, and Liam flushes slightly.

  “Come on, guys,” Owen says, heading for the door. “Chug all your drinks—it’s time to go barhopping!”

  "Really? Barhopping? I’m getting too old for this,” Liam says with a groan.

  David grins. “You guys are going to make me wish I had joined the girls for massages.”

  “Maybe the girls can join us when they finish their massages,” Liam suggests. “No offense to you fine gentleman, but I already miss my wife.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  When the girls and I left the spa, after massages, facials, foot scrubs, and other general pampering, we were all feeling quite refreshed. But Helen and Carmen wanted to meet up with the guys for food and drinks, so we took an uber over to them.

  I honestly felt a little out of place hanging out “with the girls,” but I tried to fake it. I do enjoy talking to Helen and Carmen, one-on-one, but Helen’s friend Krista is also here, and the dynamic is a little different. It’s a little more casual, and the conversation is a little more superficial. But there were still a few special moments.

  I was just never one of those girls who hung out with a group of girls in high school—or ever. I’m not any good at it.

  When we walk into the bar, the men greet us, and I am relieved to see Cole. He immediately comes over to me, and takes me aside.

/>   “Snow, I found a place here in Switzerland where we can speak to a highly recommended therapist: Dr. J. Bartholomew. I called and made an appointment for tomorrow, if you’re interested?”

  “Sure, that sounds good,” I tell him. “I’ve been looking into some things too. Weren’t we supposed to fly to Karachi tomorrow?”

  “The appointment is in the city, close to the airport, so we can just leave earlier and fit in in before the flight.”

  “Alright,” I respond. “Carmen said that hypnotherapy really helped her anxiety after some bad things that happened to her. That sounded interesting.”

  “I think I saw that mentioned on this doctor’s website,” Cole says. “Maybe we can ask her about it.”

  “But what is one session going to do?” I ask. “Apparently, there’s a six hour interview to even officially diagnose someone with DID. And that’s probably after a lot of sessions to confirm that it may be likely. And I think you need to go through all of that before you can really get any kind of treatment.”

  “This therapist is willing to do distance sessions, so we can continue to Skype with her wherever we go.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say, thoughtfully. “I was seriously just thinking of joining some kind of fight club, or kickboxing, and beating the shit out of a punching bag for therapy—but that sounds a lot more grown up.”

  “Snow,” Cole says, with a little laugh. “You can totally do that, too.”

  “Well, it’s our last night here with these people,” I tell him, taking his arm. “Let’s go enjoy their company. They are pretty lovely girls—and guys—and we might never see them again.”

  “I’m really excited to meet both of you,” the therapist says as we sit in her office.

  We left early in the morning for Geneva, to make our appointment. The building is posh, and her room is designed with peaceful, soothing colors; seafoam blue and greens mixed with silver. There are degrees and awards framed all over the wall.

  “I usually don’t do rush appointments like this, but a doctor friend from New York said it was for a family member, and that it was a bit of an emergency. If you two will fill me in on some of the details, I’d be happy to help, however I can.”

  Turning to glare at Cole, he avoids my gaze innocently. “That’s so interesting,” I remark. “I wasn’t aware that any doctor family members from New York even knew what was wrong with me.”

  Cole clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I had to tell him.”

  “I know how misunderstood this illness is,” Dr. Bartholomew says. “It’s really difficult to find proper treatment. It’s great that you brought your fiancé here with you, Sophie. For this sort of therapy, I have found that it can be very helpful to have another person join in occasionally. If you are experiencing memory gaps, a family member or friend may be able to corroborate what’s happening. How long have you two known each other?”

  “Since I was thirteen,” I respond.

  “Wow, that’s wonderful,” she responds. “And how long have you been aware of the dissociative experiences?”

  I hesitate, unable to respond. Obviously, I knew from the start that I was born to protect Serena. I did it naturally, out of pure instinct. She never knew I existed—I didn’t want to upset her. She easily brushed off any time gaps or weird occurrences, not wanting to really accept what was happening to us.

  “I understand if that’s a difficult question, Sophie. This disorder is designed to disguise itself, to protect the host, so most people are unaware they even have it, until something very extreme happens. Even then, people will make excuses and deny it—alters will often hide until they are ready to be discovered. Cole, when did you first notice signs of her dissociation?”

  “She was fourteen when she introduced herself to me as Snow. She had a different voice, a different posture. Serena was very shy, reserved, sweet— she’d always let Professor Brown, our foster father, hurt her before, and just sat quietly in her room, crying. But this time, within a few seconds, she went from being choked by him to being the attacker, grabbing a burning log from the fire and beating him with it, jumping on him and tearing at his neck with her teeth. I’d never seen anything like it—but I was just grateful that Snow was there. She protected me, too. I had been stabbed a few times.”

  The therapist looks at us with slightly wide eyes. She clears her throat and takes a second to respond. “Serena is the original name of the host?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “Okay, Serena. How did you feel about the violence committed by Snow?”

  “That’s just the problem, Dr. Bartholomew. I am Snow. I’ve been stuck in total control of the body for weeks now. Usually I just have a few minutes, or hours, to do what needs to be done—if Serena’s in danger. But I haven’t been able to reach her. And it was getting really exhausting pretending to be her.”

  “Oh, that’s interesting,” the doctor says, chewing on her pen. “So, how many alters are there in this system?”

  “For the longest time, I thought it was just me and Serena. But we recently… went through something, and we became aware of two more. Sibyl doesn’t like Cole, and she has managed to take control from me a few times. She doesn’t seem to like anyone—except my ex-boyfriend, Zack. There’s also Joy—and we didn’t realize she was an alter. We thought she was a real person—a four year old child that we lost a few years ago. Cole’s child. I thought I miscarried, but while I was being…” I shift uncomfortably as I speak. “While I was being held captive and tortured, recently, someone convinced me that I did actually have the child, and I just didn’t remember. So we have a detective and CIA agent searching for any sign of the child’s existence, back in the USA.”

  “I see,” the therapist says gently. She takes off her glasses, and cleans them on her shirt. “Okay. I can see why this would be considered an emergency. If we’re going to do this, we might have to dig up certain things from the past that can be very difficult to face. It could be very uncomfortable. Will you be willing to attempt that?”

  “Yes, of course, Dr. Bartholomew.”

  “Just call me Jeannine,” she says with a smile. “We have a lot of work ahead of us. But I promise that when we get through to the other side, you’ll feel better, and your life will be more manageable. Just remember that you can trust me, and everything said between us is confidential. I’ve worked with hundreds of people who have this disorder, really remarkable people. They all seem to really benefit from therapy. I could even introduce you to some other systems, if you’d like. It could be valuable to have friends who have to cope with the same challenges.”

  “That would be amazing,” I say. “I’ve never known anyone else like me.”

  Jeannine smiles. “Everyone says the same thing. It all seems so strange and abnormal, until you meet a few other people who have alters, and meet their alters—and then it all starts to seem pretty normal. You’ll look in the mirror and feel perfectly secure in who you are, and perfectly normal.”

  I turn to Cole with my jaw open. “I think she just said that I could feel normal—am I going deaf?”

  “I heard it too,” he responds, with a smile.

  The therapist laughs. “Okay, you two. I’m going to ask a bunch of questions, for some general background, and then I’m going to give you some homework. Just an exercise, for the alters to write letters to each other and communicate better, and maybe draw a map of the system. Does that sound okay?”

  “Sure, that sounds great,” I tell her.

  “Wonderful. Now, for the hard part.” She gives me a sad smile. “If at any point, you feel uncomfortable discussing this, just tell me you want to stop or change the subject, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Can you tell me about the specific events that triggered your discovery of Joy and Sibyl? Or the events that led to Serena’s disappearance?”

  I take a deep breath, reaching up to touch my necklace. “Well…”

  I stare out the window at the scenery as
we drive to the airport.

  “So, what did you think of the therapist?” Cole asks, reaching for my hand.

  “She was good. She seemed very smart.”

  “We should try to do another session with her, as soon as we get to Karachi.”

  I am quiet for a few seconds, because the therapy has made me think about the recent and distant past. I feel like I am right back there, in those days. Those years.

  “I’m excited to see Levi again,” Cole says. “It’s been a while.”

  The mention of Levi brings me out of my memories. I must admit that I feel a little queasy about seeing him again. I always adored him, but I suddenly feel strangely nervous. Maybe it’s just the afterglow of therapy.

  “You really don’t remember me dating Levi in college?” I ask Cole.

  “I didn’t think it was significant.”

  “Really? I guess it was brief. You don’t think it will be awkward that we’re going to be staying at his place?”

  “Scar, you were just a teenager throwing a temper tantrum when you dated Levi. You were just trying to piss me off and get a reaction out of me, and it worked.”

  “We had a huge fight, that night,” I say softly. “It was awful. You were scary.”

  “Well, it wasn’t easy living with a crazy teenage girl and all her hormones, okay?”

  “Excuse me? It wasn’t easy living with a heartless teenage boy who kept giving me the cold shoulder. You were more Hot and Cold than the Katy Perry song.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Can we really afford to hire two more people?” I ask Cole, nervously, sitting on the edge of his desk. “We can barely make ends meet.”

  “The workload is increasing too fast for me to keep up,” he explains as he types furiously at his computer. “We either expand now, while there’s an opportunity, or the company will shrivel up and die.”

  “We just moved back to California. We can barely afford furniture. If we keep bleeding money like this, we could drown in debt.”