Stranger Than Fiction

by Jeanine Hoffman

  Kerstin leaned forward and moved her tea aside. “Do you remember what the forest looked like? The colors?”

  “They were muted a bit. Kind of like when my sight changed for the day when I lost all my reds and oranges. I could still see all the colors but they just weren’t vibrant. The leaves had to have turned because I felt them crunch beneath my feet as I ran.”

  “And when you ran, were you running on two feet or four feet?”

  “What? I don’t know. I think two.” I didn’t like where this was going.

  “I’m curious about something. Were these woods familiar to you?”

  “I don’t think so. I mean, in my dream I knew them well but I don’t actually recognize them at all.”

  “Was anyone with you? Either before or during the chase?”

  “I don’t really remember but I seemed to think that I was leading the people chasing me away from a group.”

  “Sacrificing yourself? Is that something you think you would do?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I suppose it would depend on the circumstances and who I was protecting. I’m honest enough with myself to know that how I think I would react, or how I hope I would react, might not be the same thing I would do in reality.”

  “Fair enough. So, you don’t remember actually seeing anyone or anything other than the woods you ran through. You sensed that you were protecting someone or something. I have a theory.”

  “Go for it. I’m curious to hear your view.” I actually was more afraid to hear her view but I was trying to fight it.

  “I think that this is a part of your transitioning and dealing with the virus. You may have been thinking about isolating yourself even further to protect your family or fan base from the reality of your situation.”

  “Let’s play pretend. What else might it be?”

  “It could simply have been you running from the virus, from your own reality. It could have been that you were being social with a herd when predators came and you ran as a diversion to let the others escape. It could also be that you’ve started dreaming from the perspective of the game you once hunted. There is also a slight chance that this is a precognitive dream.”

  “You had me till the last one. Precog? Really? You say that likes it's a real thing.”

  “It is and while it would be unusual, it is a possibility.”

  “Well, I’m going to go with me running from the virus. That at least makes some sense. I’ve never chased an animal in my life. I found places to wait, picked an animal I could handle and typically it went down in one shot.”

  “Right. That can eliminate it I suppose. I still wonder about the precognition possibility or simply an intuition-type dream. There were no other animals or shifters around you?”

  “No, I started the dream while I was running. I woke when the shot was fired but I don’t remember it hitting me. I felt no pain. I did feel fear, I felt tired, and I felt motivated to keep going.”

  “Well, I’m not going to waste time trying to convince you of a thesis that is simply a suspicion. This dream can be so many things or it could be nothing at all. Was that what had you up so early this morning?”

  “Yeah. I couldn’t get back to sleep after. I played online, tried to relax, and finally caved and called you.”

  “Why do you consider it caving to call me?” Kerstin rested back in her seat and sipped from her mug while she waited for me to answer her.

  “I don’t know. Normally I don’t have a lot of bad dreams and if I do, I write them down and go back to sleep. Sure, I might play online a bit or read, but I can usually go back to sleep. Tonight, or this morning, sleep wasn’t going to happen and I figured I should take the opportunity to talk to someone while I have it. I normally wouldn’t call anyone this early in the day.”

  “I think that normally, you simply wouldn’t call anyone, period. You found yourself in an unusual situation that provided you with the chance to talk to someone, me, under professional circumstances and that was preferable to being alone. You probably hated calling me, didn’t you?”

  “Well, I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “And? Why else didn’t you want to call? Because I know I told you any time of day was fine.”

  “You did but when people say that they don’t usually mean it. Kind of like when people say, ‘let’s do lunch’ or ‘I’ll call you’ and it never happens.”

  “At least you believed me professional enough that you thought it was okay to call. I think I’m seeing you struggle with the idea that you might be making friends and finding community.”

  “I don’t have a problem making friends. I have a community as well. I’m part of a community of writers of lesbian fiction. We have a strong online presence. I’m also part of a society of writers of adventure fiction and again, we communicate online through forums and such. I’m also an artist, there is a huge community of artists, though I admit to not being all that active in those circles.”

  “Do you often get together in person with any of these associates? Do you ever go out to dinner or lunch with anyone?”

  “Well, no, of course not. These are online groups. There are members from all over the world. Getting together wouldn’t be practical.”

  “Let me recap then. You don’t go out to lunch or dinner with the people you consider colleagues. You don’t go to any professional events to promote your work, network, or take classes. You didn’t mention going out to dinner with friends so I will assume that it doesn’t happen. Does that sound about right?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “So, you do go out to dinner? Wonderful, and I’m sure you’d be happy to tell me a bit about the last dinner you ate out in the company of one or more people?”

  “Uh, sure. I went to dinner a while back and we had a great time.”

  “We consists of who exactly? Where did you go? Someplace you could recommend?”

  “Well, it wasn’t local. I was in New York City for a meeting with my agent. He and his wife took me out to dinner while I was in town.”

  “When was this? Just the approximate month and year will suffice.”

  “Fine. It was seven months ago. I flew in for two days and one night and they took me to dinner because I make him a lot of money.”

  “Right. So, no local friends or family. No social commitments or really any reason to leave your property unless it’s for supplies or shipping out paintings.”

  “Yeah, okay, so I’m a bit of a loner. What’s the problem with that exactly? I’m a productive member of society who pays taxes, takes less from the ecology than most, and I’ve never been arrested.”

  “I’m not trying to attack you, Tori. I’m trying to make a point. You’ve not spent time in the past bonding with the people around you or those with which you have work or other interests in common. In the past few days you’ve had more meals with people than in the past year or more. You’ve worked out with people, spent time in a park, hung out in a hot tub with people, and even made the advanced move to call someone when you needed to talk something out.”

  “Right, so I’m in a strange underground bunker-like facility with complete strangers. I’m being told that I’m going to turn into a white-tailed deer, and I sought out the woman who is supposed to counsel me through this traumatic time. Instead of getting some empathy or a pat on the back or something, I’m getting told what a pathetic social misfit I am. Sorry to bother you. I’ll find my own way back to my little cell.”

  “Sit yourself down right now, Tori. We’re far from done and you aren’t getting out of here that easily.”

  I slumped back in my chair in a posture that was slightly reminiscent of a spoiled teenager. “Fine. Talk yourself blue but I’m done.” I knew I was being petulant but ever since learning the truth of things I felt as if I’d been running scared. I knew I wasn’t putting my best foot forward, yet I wasn’t sure how to snap out of it.

  “You had a horrible nightmare. I get it. I’m trying to get to the bottom of it. Ther
e are root causes from the mundane and easy to dismiss, to the opposite end of the spectrum. I’m not trying to attack you or run down your old life. I’m trying to point something out to you, Tori.”

  “What’s that, Dr. Mueller? That I’m a loser who has no friends?”

  “No, and I understand your anger, misplaced as it is. I’m more than capable to take it. I’m here to help and that means being able to call you out on the crap you’ve fed yourself for far too long.”

  “Really? Like what?”

  “You seem to think you can just hide away from life forever and not have to make any kind of emotional connections. You live through your writing and your art but you don’t ever take the time to invest yourself in other people. Your family shouldn’t be the only people who care if something happens to you.”

  “My agents and others would care.”

  “Yes, others are invested in you because you make them money, you bring them enjoyment with your gifts, or they would miss your work if you were to stop producing. Who would miss Tori Monroe? I can tell you right now, Dena, myself, Stacy, Sam, Joe, Gail, and Janice. Even Olivia, your night nurse, asks after you. We would all miss you. My parents would miss you too. In the short time you’ve been here, you’ve touched more lives than you understand.”

  “Fine, I admit that I don’t normally socialize. I’m awkward at small talk and I don’t like to tell too many people about my writing work. When fans find out who you are they ask questions I might not have answers to or they want sequels, more information about books, the list goes on.”

  “What I’m hearing is that people show an interest in your work and that makes you uncomfortable. Can you tell me why that is?”

  “I don’t know how to give them what they want. People read so much into my stories that I’m not certain I put there in the first place. They see their own lives in my characters and I don’t know how to explain that I’ve always just had these characters show up in my head. I have to tell their stories or they’ll stay. I don’t know why but once I write the stories, I’m able to move on to the next. I don’t make up the stories but people don’t understand that when I try to explain.”

  “Do they come to you in dreams? Do scenes happen in your sleep and you add them to your books?”

  “Sometimes. It kind of feels like cheating. Tonight’s dream didn’t have the same quality. It felt more intense and real. Normally I feel more like I’m watching television and I write it down and use it later. This was different. It was scarier. It was more…just more.”

  “This more, this is why I think you might be experiencing either repressed memories, like a remote viewing of some kind, or precognition. This could be an event that happens or could happen in the future. For that matter, it could be that a dream is just a dream. Your subconscious might be trying to get you to flee from the attachments that you’ve started to form here. Perhaps a fear of being hurt or abandoned later is leading you down this path with your dream. Do you see that there are so many options? Yet you would prefer to bury it, to just dismiss it.”

  “How many of these options are more than crazy speculations? Repressed memories? Precog? I can’t take this stuff seriously right now. I don’t have any gaps in my childhood memories, or in any of my memories for that matter. The best theory you’ve put forth is that I’m nervous about being friendly with people.”

  “Good, let’s run with that one for a moment. What is so scary about making a few friends? Would it be damaging to your writing or art if you had people you could go watch a movie with and eat the occasional meal out? How horrible would it be to your life to have a person or three to call on if you’re sick and need a hand? Or if you just want someone to chat with over tea? Is that too human for you?”

  “It isn’t that it would be so horrible. But I’ve gone down that road and when people found out who my mother is, they wanted things. Art lessons, free sketches, tickets to a gallery opening— just something. With my life compartmentalized the way it is, if someone were to be friendly with me, I could hope at least that it’s for who I am and not what I can do for them. Or what my money can do for them.”

  “The people here know who you are and you don’t seem to be too worried about what they want so far.”

  “Yeah well, it seems that I’ve finally found people with bigger secrets to hide than I have. I will point out that I’ve already had suggestions to teach kids art and creative writing. Things I am not qualified to do if you look at my own educational background.”

  “Consider those simply ideas on ways you could pay for a membership here to use the facilities, or ways to give back to a community that is welcoming you with open arms. They were suggestions, not demands, and your life experience counts for at least as much if not more than a traditional education.”

  “Well, I’m glad someone thinks so, but I’m not a teacher.”

  “So, don’t teach. There are other options. Pay the fees, don’t use the facilities once you leave, or find another way to contribute that can be used in lieu of fees. I don’t know your financial situation but for some of our people, the only way to afford access to all of this is to spend some time giving back to the community somehow. Others give back and still pay fees. Still others donate money to award scholarships to our youth for college or those just starting out on their own.”

  “Oh, so it wasn’t a strong-arm?”

  “Absolutely not. If anything, it was meant to appeal to your vanity to be considered an expert in so many different things.”

  “Well crap. Now I feel like an idiot. I’m sorry. I’m short-tempered because I didn’t sleep well but that’s no reason to dump it on you. I told you, I suck at this interaction stuff.”

  “Tori, you don’t apologize to your therapist for venting. It is kind of what we do, after all. Why don’t you spend some of that energy forgiving yourself for whatever perceived flaws you think you have to hide? No one is without fault, Tori. We all have them but it’s how we deal with them that makes us who we are as people. Find out who you want to be, Tori. I’ll be here to help you reach for that goal.”

  “I have a lot to think about. Do I have time for that today or do I have another day of classes and stuff?”

  “I’m going to have someone do another blood draw but other than that, you’re free for the day. I can help you get in touch if there’s anyone here you’d like to hang out with or ask questions of, but I’d suggest some low stress activity today. Spend time on your writing, read a bit, take a walk.”

  “Can I walk outside? Will I be able to get back inside and stuff?”

  “Of course, however, I would hope you would allow someone to go with you if you choose to leave the building. For your own safety, really. I think your blood labs will show that you’re ready to start learning to shift. If your hormone levels are too close, if something startles you outdoors, you could have some problems. I can make Janice available or you can see if Dena or Gail or anyone else is free.”

  “You don’t need Janice here?”

  “Of course I do. Without her my office would fall apart. But I’ve survived without her during her vacations and I can survive today. In fact, I’ve been having her train someone to assist in the department so I’ll pull him over to help today if I need it.”

  “Could she come get me after the blood work? I think I’d like a walk outside then maybe try to take a nap.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Kerstin paused then looked at me for a moment. “Are you okay? Are you still mad at me?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t really mad at you. I know you were trying to get me to deal with things. I’m just not very good at that. It hurts to think of some stuff in my past and I don't want to go through it again.”

  “I’ll make you a deal then. I’ll dredge through your past with permission only if it really does have a potential effect on your current situation. Deal?”

  “Deal. Thanks, Kerstin. I’ll try not to keep Janice all day. I doubt I’ll have the energy for more than
a short walk anyway.”

  “Borrow her as needed. Trust me, time away from the office isn’t something she’s likely to complain about. Go, I’ll send her down once she gets in. Should be around nine or so.”

  I took my leave, found my way back to my quarters and waited for the lab and for breakfast. Thankfully, I was able to shower, dress, get the blood drawn, eat, and settle down before Janice arrived. We walked for about an hour or so outside. There was a lovely little park area with a few different walking paths. We used those and even spent some time sitting on a bench just talking about nothing of consequence.

  We got back to my room just before noon and I told Janice that I thought I’d nap for a while. After a promise to get in touch if I needed her, she went back to work and I went to sleep. Finally, I enjoyed a slumber with no disturbing images.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I WASN’T SURE how long I had napped but when I awoke, my stomach growled. I knew I’d skipped lunch so I called and ordered dinner timed to give me a chance to get cleaned up. I’d slept for a good four hours, so if anything I was eating a bit of an early dinner.

  Just as I settled in with my meal, a knock sounded at my door.

  “Come in, it’s open.” I decided it couldn’t be that big a risk to let people open a door for themselves. It wasn’t like this was an open facility in a bad part of a seedy city.

  Kerstin stuck her head in and greeted me.

  “Is it a bad time? I didn’t mean to catch you during dinner.”

  “Come on in. I’m going to be rude and keep eating though. I’m famished. I skipped lunch in favor of a long nap.”

  “I don’t need to stay long. I just wanted to let you know that your blood chemistry is in and you’re ready to move on to the shifting lessons.”