The Nearly Girl

by Lisa de Nikolits

  “And Henry and I didn’t know it then but Mike’s parents had already reported him missing and the police also told them they had to wait longer before a search alert could be issued. However, the police did take the registration number of the car and the license number, and they spotted the car at the bus station in Niagara on the Monday, along with Amelia’s note saying she and Mike had run away. The police also found their cellphones and they phoned me. And then they came to the hospital and told us what they had found, and that Amelia and Mike had run away to New York.

  “I asked them for Mike’s family’s telephone number and they wouldn’t give it to me but they said they’d give mine to them, and thank heavens his parents phoned me. But they didn’t have much to add.

  “By Tuesday, the doctors figured I could come home and so Henry brought me here and he stayed with me and here we are, now.”

  Megan was silent, in deep thought. “You haven’t seen or heard from her in five days. It doesn’t add up. Amelia running off to New York. I mean it kind of does but it also doesn’t.” She lit another cigarette.

  “Mom,” she said, “tell me everything you know about this group. That’s where she met this boy? When do they meet?”

  “Yes, she met him there. Thursdays, from one to three, at the hospital.”

  “And the doctor’s name?”

  “Dr. Carroll Frances, or Frances Carroll, I can’t remember which way around.”

  “I say we crash the group tomorrow,” Megan said.

  Henry paled. “I can’t go there,” he said.

  “Fine,” Megan replied, “I will.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Ethel said.

  Megan shook her head. “You’re not well enough, Mom.”

  “But you won’t know what to say,” Ethel said and Henry nodded his head vigorously in agreement.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence but I’ll be fine.”

  “Oh my god!” Henry gave a strange gasp and they both turned to look at him.

  “Spit it out, husband,” Megan said.

  “She said something. Oh, what was it…?” Henry said. “Amelia came to see me at the house and I wasn’t feeling good and she made me soup and she told me something about her therapist. Oh, what was it?” He slapped his forehead. “Think, think, think.”

  “I know it was a pretty weird group,” Ethel said. “Some of the members started having sex with each other in the washroom, and the therapist said that was great. The therapy itself is about doing the opposite to what you’d normally do, given that your normal is not being productive or helpful in the real world.”

  “They had sex? All of them?” Megan was horrified.

  “No, just some of them. And then some guy went crazy and waved a gun around.”

  “A gun! Mom, how could you let her keep on going?”

  “It made sense in the context that Amelia explained it. It was a reaction to the therapy,” Ethel said, miserably. “Although, hearing it now, it doesn’t sound above board.”

  “What else?”

  “I think there was a hoarder woman and – oh my god!”This time it was Ethel who exclaimed in horror and the other two looked at her.

  “What, Mom? What?”

  “I read it in The Sun, about a hoarder woman who killed herself and her rabbits. Amelia told me about this woman who was a terrible hoarder and that she had rabbits. I can’t see there being two people like that, can you?”

  “What did you read in The Sun?”

  “She burned down her house with them in it.”

  “That is the opposite of hoarding and being alive,” Henry commented. “It must be the same woman.”

  “And there was some fellow whose wife was running a meth lab and the group pulled a sting and got the police involved,” Ethel said.

  Megan stared at her. “Mom? How on earth could you let Amelia continue with this?”

  “Lots of reasons,” Ethel said defensively. “She wanted to go because of Mike and like I say, when Amelia explained it in context, it made much more sense than it does now. I can hear how it sounds now.”

  “Recriminations are counter-productive,” Henry said, patting Ethel’s hand and giving Megan a look.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Megan grumbled. “My god, what a mess. No question in my mind. I have to go to the group. What do we know about this therapist? I’m going to Google him.”

  They followed her to her bedroom and waited while she booted up her computer. “Here we go. He looks like Paul Giamatti. Got a list of credentials longer than my arm, and he’s won awards and citations for his work. I’m quoting here: his ‘unorthodox but highly successful psychiatric therapeutic strategies.’ He’s a leader in his field. He was brilliant at university, and he’s being hailed as the new Jung mixed with Freud, with a dose of existential, non-conformist philosophical idealism mixed in. In other words,” she said, turning to Henry and Ethel, “he’s a full-on mega wingnut.”

  “Where does he stand on medications?” Henry asked.

  Megan studied the screen and scrolled down. “It doesn’t say.”

  “I’m going to find his home address and pay him a visit,” Megan said and she tapped at her keyboard. “Frick. He must have paid to be unlisted.”

  “Wherever he is, at home, at the hospital, wherever, I can’t go near him,” Henry said. “The sound of him scares the bejesus out of me.”

  “It’s okay,” Megan told him. “I’ll meet him. Let’s Google this hoarder who died in the fire. Here we go: Angelina Sante Croce. She was sixty-six. She had two kids and four grandkids, and her husband died a year ago. It says here that she had been undergoing psychiatric treatment for some time and that anti-depressants led to her suicide. That last by the way, was an observation from our good Dr. Carroll. Which lets him off the hook, wouldn’t you say? ‘Look, Ma, the drugs did it, it wasn’t me.’”

  She switched off the computer. “I’m going to have a shower. Henry, do you want to stay here with us until this is sorted out?”

  He nodded and then he started crying. “I love her, Megan. You’ve got to get her back.”

  “I will, Henry, I will. I’ll get our girl back. Don’t you worry either, Mom. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  18. GROUP THERAPY: SESSION SIX

  MEGAN LOOKED AROUND THE ROOM. There was a giant blonde man, a large pale-skinned gothic girl, a plump blonde housewife-mom type, a balding middle-aged businessman, a tall girl with freshly-dyed platinum hair and thick bangs, and a skinny Paris Hilton look-alike who kept admiring her gigantic engagement ring. No one seemed to be talking so she kept quiet too.

  Five minutes after the appointed hour, a short stocky man rushed into the room and sat down, hefting his plastic bag of papers to one side. “Hello Shannon,” he said to the blonde girl with bangs. “Good to see you back. Now, group, a lot has happened since last we met,” he said. “We have lost a few members of our group. One to suicide and two of the others have found love and run away.”

  It was tough for Megan to remain silent but she clenched her jaw and waited for him to continue. He seemed utterly self-absorbed.

  “But Alexei has returned to us, and that is good news. I intervened with Joanne and I negotiated with the police and Joanne has kindly agreed to drop the charges and Alexei will complete his therapy. I know you are sad about Angelina and we will talk about that—”

  “What happened to Angelina?” the Paris Hilton girl piped up, interrupting Dr. Carroll and a few of the others looked enquiring too.

  “She died by her own hand,” Dr. Carroll said solemnly. “The official verdict is that her medication led to psychosis, and there was nothing anyone could do.”

  There were a few gasps in the room.

  “And who ran away?” the gothic girl asked.

  “Amelia and Mike,” Dr. Carroll sighed. “They abandoned everything and left f
or New York to follow the path of true love.”

  Megan wondered how he could knew so much about what had happened to Amelia and Mike but before she could follow that train of thought, the blonde housewife spoke up. “Shouldn’t we abandon this group? Can’t we? Please. I don’t want to come any more, and neither do I want to pay you to be able to leave.”

  The middle-aged businessman agreed. “I want out too,” he said.

  “But David,” Dr. Carroll looked confused. “We helped you reclaim your life. We helped you achieve liberation from those who were stealing from you and deceiving you. And Whitney, you have found happiness and peace in sexual liberation, so why would you want to leave? We can’t abandon this group. Where is Joanne by the way, does anybody know?”

  “She had to go on a business trip this week,” Whitney said. “She said for you to send her the bill for a missed session.

  “She should have told me,” Doctor Carroll sounded aggrieved. “I will bill her. And who, exactly, are you?”

  He addressed the last to Megan, having finally noticed that she was there.

  Megan cleared her throat. “I’m Megan, the mother of the girl who supposedly ran away for love,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m here to find some answers.”

  “You can’t just join in,” Dr. Carroll was indignant. “There are protocols to be followed. We discuss sensitive issues in our groups!”

  “I can’t think of anything more sensitive than my daughter’s disappearance,” Megan commented. “And since you are being funded by the government to treat her and she’s not here, I am stepping in, in lieu of her.” She looked at Dr. Carroll calmly. “You can try to throw me out, if you like,” she said, flexing a bicep twice the size of his leg as she leaned forward to rest her chin on her hand.

  “As far as I am concerned, she can stay,” Whitney said. “She’s Amelia’s mother for god’s sake and it’s not like we’ve got anything to hide.”

  David agreed. “Let her stay,” he said tiredly to Dr. Carroll. “Come on, Doc. I decided to come back instead of paying you out, so let’s get on with it.”

  “Frankly, I’ve had enough of this shit,” Ainsley said and she opened her purse and scribbled on a cheque. “Here. This is rubbish.”

  “Is it?” Dr. Carroll looked at her squarely. “How many panic attacks have you had since the group started?”

  “None,” she admitted.

  “And how often have you left your home in the past two months?”

  “A lot,” she said. “I can pretty much come and go whenever I want to.”

  “Therefore I would call the treatment a success,” Dr. Carroll said. “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Call it whatever you like,” Ainsley said, “I’m done with it.” She thrust the cheque at Dr. Carroll and rushed out the room as if she was worried he would try to stop her.

  “I consider her a success,” Dr. Carroll said, and he took some papers out of his plastic bag and made a note. “Excellent. No panic attacks, and she can leave the house whenever she wants to.” He ticked off a list and grinned. “I do love a happy ending!”

  He looked at the small remaining group. “Fine. We will continue, albeit with a stranger in our midst. Today we are going to examine our core beliefs. These are the underlying assumptions and life rules that we have developed along the way. These rules are supposed to help us but, in reality, they hurt and hinder us. We think to ourselves, if we do this thing perfectly, or that thing, according to the rules, then we will be safe but our rules don’t work!”

  He grinned. “Alexei, may I use you as an example?”

  The big blonde giant shrugged.

  “Thank you. I would say that despite your size and your muscle power, that you essentially feel invisible and unloved in this world. You react with expressions of anger and violence in order to make yourself feel alive and acknowledged. You only feel visible when you seduce women. Your core belief is one of ‘if I don’t assert myself daily in an aggressive or sexual way, I don’t exist.’”

  Megan expected the giant to roar with outrage but he sat up straighter and looked interested.

  “But these core values that you rely on, only do you harm. Violence and sex bring you hurt and anxiety. You are always looking for the next fight, or the next woman, to affirm your place in the world. I want you to stand up.”

  “Now?” Alexei was bewildered.

  “Yes, now. Please stand up.”

  Alexei stood up awkwardly and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

  “Relax,” Dr. Carroll said. “It’s all right to feel nervous but everything is fine. Now, I want you to say: ‘I am Alexei and I am a valuable human being.’”

  Alexei mumbled something and Dr. Carroll shook his head. “But wait,” he said. “Group, I’m going to bring you into this too. After Alexei says his mantra, we must all shout, and I do mean shout, ‘We love you, Alexei.’ Let’s try again. Come on, Alexei.”

  “What must I say again?”

  “I am a valuable human being,” Dr. Carroll reminded him.

  “I am a valuable human being,” Alexei repeated and Dr. Carroll, Shannon, Persephone, Whitney, and David shouted “We love you, Alexei!” and Megan jumped.

  “I am a valuable human being,” Alexei shouted and the group yelled back at him.

  This went on for about ten minutes and Megan watched the giant man’s body language change from that of a defiant fighter to a happy schoolboy.

  “Fantastic!” Dr. Carroll wiped his brow. “Okay, Alexei, you can sit down now. I want you to say that to yourself every day, a hundred times a day, and imagine us telling you that we love you.

  “Now group, it’s time for meditation. As you know, this isn’t my favourite part but we must do what we must do. Today I have brought some sounds and we will meditate on them. Please get comfortable and close your eyes. Place your feet firmly on the floor. Here we go.”

  He took a small, antiquated tape recorder out of his satchel. He rang a bell and switched on the recorder that made a crackling sound, followed by crashing waves.

  Megan opened one eye and looked around. Everybody’s eyes were closed except for Dr. Carroll who was staring at her with an openly hostile expression. So venomous was his gaze that Megan was alarmed and she could feel her heart racing. The two of them stared at one another until Megan dropped her gaze and closed her eyes, preferring the privacy of not having to be the focal point of that laser stare. The bell finally rang and the group opened their eyes and Dr. Carroll surveyed the room. “I would like to ask our visitor a question,” he said, and Megan felt her stomach clench.

  “Go ahead,” she said, pleasantly.

  “It’s clear that you take enormous pride and care in your body,” Dr. Carroll said. “My question is this, what is it a substitute for? What hole in your life are you trying to fill?”

  “I lost my husband to psychosis many years ago,” Megan said evenly. “He was, and still is, the love of my life and we are still married although we cannot be together. I work out because it gives me a sense of community and belonging. Also, I used to be quite fat and I like being this way better. Being fat,” she said pointedly, her gaze on Dr. Carroll’s little paunch, “is not an optimal way of thriving in this world. Did I answer your question adequately, Doctor? “

  “Hmmm, yes, but I sense a lot of anger,” Dr. Carroll said and Megan laughed.

  “Doctor, this isn’t even close to anger. But anger is what I do feel toward you, oh yes.”

  “Can you explain that further?” Dr. Carroll sat up, his beady eyes glittering. He was spoiling for a fight.

  “I sent my daughter here to you in good faith, and now she’s missing. Gone.”

  “Ah.” He rubbed his hands together. “In a nutshell, I practice what is known as D.T.O.T. therapy, which is Do The Opposite Thing. Your daughter’s interpretation of this was
to run away. Running away is her way of expressing the opposite action to the life she was living.”

  “That doesn’t make sense to me,” Megan argued. “Amelia was always running off. Staying would have been the opposite thing. Having a relationship with this Mike, that would have been the opposite thing. So what you’re saying doesn’t make sense.”

  “Psychotherapy can never be fully understood,” Dr. Carroll said, “particularly by those who are untrained in the field. In such matters you have to trust the experts to guide you. We have your mental health issues at heart, we take your healing very seriously, and you are in good hands.”

  Whitney gave a loud snort and the group turned to her.

  “Whitney, do you have something you’d like to add?” Dr. Carroll asked but she shook her head.

  “Fine, then that’s it for the day, we are going to end early. Group, for your homework, I want each of you to identify a core belief that you grew up with, and then I want you to dismantle it, in the same way we did with Alexei. I look forward to hearing your results next week. Go forth and D.T.O.T. till the cows come home!”

  He gathered his plastic bag and his satchel and rushed out of the room.

  Megan looked up to see Whitney standing next to her.

  “Let’s go and get a coffee,” Whitney said.

  “As you can see, I am blonde now,” Megan overheard the tall girl say to the giant Russian, but she gathered her things and followed Whitney, and she missed hearing his reply.