Awakened (Intimate Relations) (8 page)

“I’m sorry. That’s not a good way to end an employer-employee relationship. It’s sad the way this old neighborhood is changing. I’m going to miss the shop. I’ll miss you, too, Mandy. You have always been a bright spot in my morning. I wish you luck in finding a new position.”

He smiled and turned to focus on Marc. “Now,” he said, with a quick glance at Mandy, “Mr. Reed asked that you be present during our session. I need to be certain you’re all right with that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable should anything highly personal come to light. Will you be able to sit quietly and listen without judgment, not participating unless you are specifically requested to do so?”

She glanced at Marc. “Are you okay with me hearing anything you might say, Marc? Is that all right?”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “There’s nothing you don’t know already, and we both want to find out what I might know. I have no secrets from you, Mandy. Nor do I want to keep any.”

Mandy smiled. “Looks like we’re good to go, Dr. Chung.”

“Excellent. And, in case I didn’t explain my credentials when you called, I’m a licensed psychologist as well as a board-certified hypnotherapist.”

Marc leaned close to Mandy and, in a stage whisper said, “I think that means he knows what he’s doing.”

Dr. Chung laughed. “One can only hope.” Then he opened the door and waved them both into a small but beautifully furnished office. Forest green walls with natural wood trim, dark brown leather furniture—a couch, a recliner, and a matching office chair on wheels in front of the therapist’s desk—set off by a large turquoise ceramic pot of live bamboo growing beneath a light in one corner. Shades darkened the one large window in the room. There were a few framed diplomas and certificates on one wall along with a photo of Dr. Chung with people Mandy figured must be his family—an attractive woman and two teenaged children.

Everything about the office was aesthetically pleasing, designed to put a person at ease. Mandy glanced at Marc. He looked outwardly calm, but she sensed the tension seething just beneath the surface. It was time to get him parked and on to business.

She’d quickly learned that Marcus Reed wasn’t a man who waited patiently for much of anything, which was why it had bothered her so much that he appeared to have limitless patience while waiting to show any interest in her. Now that she knew why he’d hesitated, Mandy realized she loved him even more. He’d been protecting her. Misguided, as far as she was concerned, but it had to mean he really did care for her.

Dr. Chung stood beside his desk. “Mr. Reed. Would you prefer to lie down on the sofa, sit in a recliner, or possibly sit on the sofa with Ms. Monroe beside you?”

“Sofa.” Marc flashed her a nervous smile and tugged her hand. She’d never really seen him act nervous before. She squeezed his hand. He smiled, more relaxed this time, and squeezed hers and they both sat.

“Excellent.” Chung took the office chair and then rolled it across the hardwood floor until he was in front of them. “With your permission, I’ll record this session, Marc, and the recording will be yours to keep. I find that my clients are more comfortable when they can replay everything they’ve said and know that the words they recall are their own.” When Marc agreed, Dr. Chung flipped on a recording device and spoke into it, giving the date, Marc’s name and Mandy’s as well.

Mandy sat quietly beside Marc, still holding his hand.

Then Dr. Chung returned his attention to the two of them. “Call me Alden,” he said. “There’s no need for formality. Are you comfortable with your given name?”

“I am. Marc works.”

“Have you had hypnotherapy before?”

Marc shook his head. “No, sir. This is a first.”

Alden smiled and clasped his hands in his lap. “Even better,” he said. “Starting with a clean slate. To explain, hypnotherapy is the method used to take advantage of the mind and body connection to accomplish certain goals, or, as in your case, to uncover memories long buried. The therapist—that would be me—helps you achieve an altered state of consciousness, a trance, which you will consciously allow yourself to enter. I’ll be your guide. I’ll help you tap into your mind’s potential to find that state yourself. Once you’re there, my job is to guide you in the hope of finding the answers you’re searching for.”

“I need specifics,” Marc said. “All I know about hypnosis is what I remember from cartoons—swinging a gold watch in front of someone and then making him do stuff.”

Alden laughed. “I hate to disappoint you. No gold watch. I’ll speak to you, help you relax your muscles by virtue of the cadence of my voice, the speech patterns I’ve been trained to use. The goal is to relax your conscious mind in order to let your subconscious take over. The conscious mind forgets, the subconscious never. To get there, where you can tap into those memories, I’ll try a few things to see what works best for you. Sometimes it’s as simple as having a client count backwards or imagine a number or picture, something you like looking at.”

“Mandy.” Marc was smiling when he added, “Stay right there.”

She laughed.

Alden nodded. “Exactly. Think of something pleasant, or an image you can focus on. Probably not Mandy, because I have a feeling that might push other parts of your brain to the forefront. And I’m not talking about the one between your ears.”

Mandy squeezed Marc’s hand. “The man already knows you.”

“Ya think?” Marc smiled at her but then focused once again on the therapist.

The hypnotherapist smiled, but then he got very serious. Mandy could easily picture him in front of a class of students when he said, “There’s an important point I want to make—you never can be made to do something in hypnosis that is inconsistent with your beliefs. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, you can bring yourself out of the trance. Now, we’re going to be working with the subconscious mind, so we’ll rely on what we call
ideomotor
signals where you’ll tap into your subconscious and decide a specific finger to mean yes, another to mean no. We’ll also establish a signal to indicate if you are uncomfortable with my questions or just don’t want to answer, and by using signals, we can determine those things while you remain in hypnosis. I can’t force you to answer something you don’t want to talk about, but if it’s the reason you’re here, we’ll need to set up some parameters. You mentioned you were hoping to retrieve memories. From childhood, or are you thinking of a more recent time?”

Marc exhaled and glanced at Mandy. “More recent, I think, though I can’t rule anything out. Finding the time frame for the dreams I’m having will help me narrow down what I appear to be recalling.”

He squeezed Mandy’s hand. She glanced at him and then spoke to the therapist. “Alden? Would it help if you knew what Marc’s trying to find out? Would that help you direct your questions?”

“It could, though I don’t want to lead you in a predetermined direction. Can you tell me what you hope to learn without too many specifics?”

Marc stared at him for what felt like a very long time, but Mandy knew the moment he came to his decision. He glanced her way before speaking to Alden. “My reoccurring dream is a violent one. I need to learn the identity of the man who might have murdered a woman. I don’t know when it happened or who she was, but somehow I know I’m involved. I need to find out if my dreams are telling me the truth, or totally confusing the issue.”

“Fair enough. Let’s try a simple session this first time. See how difficult or easy it is for you to reach a state of altered consciousness. We might not even get into the dream this time, or we could find all the answers you’re hoping for. Honestly?” He chuckled. “Sometimes it’s a lot like life—an absolute crapshoot.”

Marc shrugged and took a quick look at Mandy. “You’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ll be right here with you.” She was surprised when he visibly relaxed, as if that was all he needed to hear.

“What do I do?”

“Get comfortable.” Alden adjusted his position in his own chair and waited while Marc settled into a spot on the sofa. He didn’t let go of Mandy’s hand.

“Now, I want you to close your eyes and think of a number. Just one. Concentrate on the shape of it, the color as you see it, what it makes you feel. Does this number have a particular meaning for you?”

Mandy had to force herself to concentrate on Marc, not on Alden’s voice. His rich baritone seemed to shiver over her nerve endings, made her want to fall into the sound of his words as much as what he was saying.

She watched Marc, wondered what he was thinking. The man was undeniably brilliant. He was thirty-five years old with only a few months of college education, yet his net worth was already in excess of seventy-five million dollars, all on the basis of the software he’d developed and his business acumen in investing his original earnings. His mind fascinated her. Beyond his intelligence, it was the way he still cared so deeply about his friends, even while he carried this horrible burden. She hoped Alden Chung could help him. Wished she could help him, somehow ease the load.

Alden continued to speak, but Mandy knew the moment Marc went into a trance. It hadn’t taken long at all before his grip on her hand relaxed and he settled against the pillow-soft back of the sofa.

Dr. Chung stopped speaking and studied Marc for a moment. Then he nodded as if to himself, and said, “Marc? I want your subconscious to choose a finger to indicate yes. Show me which one means yes with a small movement.”

Marc’s right forefinger tapped the arm of the sofa.

“Good. That’s very good. What finger would you like to use to signify no?”

Marc’s middle finger tapped the sofa.

“Excellent, Marc. Very good. Now, if you become uncomfortable with my questions and want me to stop, I’ll need a signal from you, maybe…”

Before he’d finished, Marc lightly drummed his three middle fingers against the arm of the sofa.

Alden smiled. “Perfect, Marc. There will be no confusion on my part at all. Now I’m going to ask you a few questions, Marc. Indicate yes or no with the appropriate finger. First of all, I want to remind you that you are safe here. Do you understand that?”

Marc’s forefinger tapped the sofa.

“Excellent. Marc, we’re going to talk about dreams. I want you to feel safe when I ask you questions. Please indicate no if you feel at all uncomfortable, or if any of my questions are inappropriate. Can you do that?”

Forefinger. A single tap.

“Marc, sometimes you have dreams that make you uncomfortable. Do you remember them?”

Forefinger again.

“You don’t like to talk about the dreams, though, do you?”

Marc shook his head and tapped his middle finger.

“Marc, I need to know if it is safe and appropriate for you to recall this information.”

Forefinger. A light tap.

“Is it safe and appropriate for you to feel the emotions associated with these memories?”

Forefinger. Mandy noticed his movement was a bit hesitant this time, not much more than a twitch. She glanced at Alden, but he merely nodded.

“Very good, Marc. I’m going to touch your shoulder so you’ll know that you’re not alone, that it’s safe here to talk about your dreams.” He leaned close and did just that. “Mandy is with you, too. She’s still holding your hand. We’re both here to help you. I want you to think about your most recent dream. The one you described to Mandy. You can use your voice now. I want you to think about how you feel when you have this dream.”

Marc’s foot began tapping against the carpet. Alden touched his shoulder again. The tapping stopped. “Let’s do this a bit differently. It’s a scary place inside the dream, isn’t it.”

“Yes.”

“I think it might be better if you were to step back. Maybe go someplace safe where you can watch. Does that sound like a good idea?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you watch your dream in a movie theater? The seats are comfortable and Mandy can sit beside you and hold your hand. You can watch the movie together. Does that work?”

“It’s still scary.”

“It’s just a scary movie, Marc. It can’t hurt you. Do you remember how you felt when you watched it?”

He took a couple of short, sharp breaths. “Afraid. I was afraid.”

“You don’t have to be afraid now, Marc. The theater is a safe place. Mandy’s with you and nothing can hurt you here. Do you feel safe now?”

“Yes.”

“Look at the screen, Marc. What do you see on the movie screen?”

“A little boy. I see a little boy.” He was whispering now, his voice so low that Mandy could barely hear him.

“Where is he? You can speak to me. No one but Mandy and I can hear you. It’s okay.” He touched Marc’s shoulder again. “We will both keep you safe.”

Marc sighed softly. “He’s behind the bed. He’s afraid, and he’s hiding.”

Mandy realized she was staring at Marc. His voice had changed, not the adult depth of it, but the cadence, his manner of speaking. As if he were that little boy. The therapist didn’t miss a beat, and she wondered if this was common.

“Do you know what room he’s in? What house?”

“He’s in my house. In Mommy and Daddy’s room. It’s too far away from mine.”

“Do you feel alone at night, in your own room?”

“Sometimes. I’m a big boy. I’m not supposed to be afraid at night. That’s what Daddy says. But the little boy heard shouting and it scared him. He came to find his Mommy.”

“How old is he, Marc?”

“He’s four. His mommy calls him her little man, but he’s going to be big someday.”

“Yes, he is. He will grow to be a big, strong, man. What do you see on the movie screen now?”

“I see Mommy and Daddy in the mirror.”

Marc sighed again, and Mandy’s heart went out to that little boy afraid at night, feeling so alone. But then he said, “Mommy and Daddy are fighting.”

Mommy and Daddy?
Was that what he saw? His parents fighting? Mandy clung to Marc’s hand, starkly aware of the tension in his grasp, the sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

Her inability to do anything but hang on to his hand.

Alden’s voice slipped into the quiet. “Are you still in a safe place?”

“I’m still in the theater, and I’m being quiet like a tiny mouse. That’s what Mommy says to do when Daddy’s angry.”