Entwined (31 page)

She tugged at the blanket, her body twisted. "Rebecca."

"Who is Rebecca?"

Vebekka vomited, her whole body heaved and she leaned over the couch. Franks fetched a bowl and a towel. He rang for assistance, and Maja entered. She went to Vebekka's side as Franks put down the bowl.

"I am so sorry." Vebekka turned to face him, and then she looked away.

Franks checked her pulse, helped her to lie back on the cushions. He drew up his chair. She smiled and whispered again she was so sorry, then she closed her eyes.

Franks touched Maja's shoulder, whispered for her to clean up the room, and he slipped out. He joined the baron and Helen Masters.

"First…I must tell you I have never experienced this before, someone able to move into the waking cycle on their own. She provoked the vomit attack; her will is quite extraordinary, I had quite a hard time hypnotizing her…usually it's a matter of seconds, but she took much longer, did you notice, Helen?"

Helen looked at the baron, and then asked if she could speak to him privately. Franks seemed slightly taken aback, and then said by all means, he would wait in the corridor. Helen turned to the baron and said that, considering what Vebekka had related during the session, she felt they should tell Franks about the photograph.

Helen went to Franks, told him about the photograph, and gave him the black-and-white snapshot. He studied it, turned it over to read the inscription, then asked if Vebekka was aware of its existence. Helen was sure she was not. The baron came out into the corridor. Franks looked to the baron. "I must ask if you are sure your wife has had no hypnotherapy treatment before…"

"None that I know of."

"I ask because I feel that she is very aware, and I did not take her too deeply. But now, now I would like to try."

The baron gave a shrug of his shoulders. "You are the doctor, I will go along with whatever you suggest."

Franks returned to Vebekka. Helen and the baron took their seats in the viewing room once more. She whispered: "He was trying to find out if this is a case of a multipersonality. He took her via the boxes through various internal protective layers."

He sat tight-lipped, irritated when Helen added softly, "I was right, Vebekka is Rebecca!"

Vebekka sipped the iced water, resting back on the cushions, and Franks checked her pulse again. She was very hot; he removed the blanket. Returning to his seat he paused a moment, before he began to hypnotize her again.

"
Longing
, repeat the word to me, Vebekka."

She did, but it was hardly audible, and she did not resist him.

"So you feel a longing…yes?…Listen to me, Vebekka. Just listen to my voice, don't fight my voice, just listen…You feel very relaxed, you feel calm and relaxed. You know no harm will come to you, and the feeling of longing…longing…"

She was under again. This time her eyes were closed, and she breathed very deeply, as if sleeping. Franks waited a few moments before he asked if he could speak to Rebecca, would Vebekka allow him to speak to her? She sighed.

"You don't understand!" She sounded irritated, as if he had asked her something stupid.

"Then help me, let me talk to Rebecca."

"I am Rebecca," she snapped.

"I'm sorry, you were right, I didn't understand."

"Oh that's all right, you wouldn't like her anyway. She's not very nice, she has very bad moods, very dark moods and a very bad temper. She is ugly and fat, always eating, always wanting sweet things. Rebecca is not nice."

"But you said you are Rebecca?"

Again there was the irritable sigh, as if his incomprehension of what she was telling him annoyed her. Her voice became angry. I
was
Rebecca, but I didn't like her. Don't you understand? I am Vebekka, I am not Rebecca anymore."

"I see, so which of you would you say was the strongest? Rebecca or Vebekka?"

She hesitated, then gave a strange sly smile. "Rebecca was, but not anymore."

Vebekka went on in a low unemotional voice, describing how she had made the decision to shut away Rebecca because she did not like her. She left home, left her parents and went to live in New York. Nobody knew Rebecca there, so it was very easy; she created a new person, someone she liked. She lost weight, became slim, and joined a modeling agency as Vebekka.

"How did Rebecca feel about this?"

"Oh, she couldn't do anything about it. I locked her up, you see, I shut her away."

Franks began to try to pinpoint dates and times, discovering that the change of name or personality occurred when Vebekka was seventeen. Subsequently, she did not want any connection with her old self, and as she became successful in her career, she started to travel on assignments, eventually securing work in Paris.

"When did Rebecca start to come back?"

Vebekka turned on the sofa, wriggled her body, her face puckered in a frown. "She started to get out. You see, she wouldn't stay locked up."

"I understand, but when did she become difficult to control?"

She held her hands protectively over her stomach. "My baby…she said there wasn't enough room inside me, not enough room for the two of us, she kept on trying to get out, but I fought her, she said terrible things, terrible things about the baby, she said it would be deformed, it would be deformed…"

♦ ♦ ♦

Franks spent over an hour with her, and then decided he needed a break. He did not wake her because he wanted her to rest. He tucked the blanket around her, checked her pulse, and told her she would sleep for a while.

Helen poured a black coffee for the doctor. He sipped it, sighing with pleasure.

"Let me explain something to you, Baron. What you have heard may seem extraordinary to you, but it is quite common. At some time or other everyone's mind undergoes something akin to a split.

The easiest way to understand this is by way of an example: Let's say you've had a near-miss car accident—a voice will begin calming you, talking your fear down, telling you it's over, that everything is fine, that it was a narrow miss, et cetera, et cetera…Your wife created Vebekka because Rebecca was as she described, moody, bad tempered, fat. In other words, she was someone she did not like, did not want to be associated with. We do not know as yet the reasons for Rebecca's moods, or why she needed to split her personality. All we know is that for Vebekka to be able to survive, to live normally, she had to lock Rebecca away. There will be a reason, it will surface, but it will take time. I will begin taking her back to her childhood, perhaps something occurred with her parents that instigated this dual personality."

The baron drained his coffee cup. "You mean she could have been mistreated?"

"Quite possibly. Often the safety barrier is created to shield the memory of sexual abuse. We shall find it out, but as you can see, it is a slow process, a step-by-step process to get at the truth."

Helen was excited. "If Rebecca began to resurface during her pregnancies, this ties in with what Louis has said, that her breakdowns began when she was three to four months pregnant."

Franks nodded. "We shall see…"

Helen looked to the baron, then told Franks about the meeting with Vebekka's mother's sister, and that she was sure that Vebekka was adopted.

Franks shook his hand. "You must keep me informed, I have asked you to report any information, since everything could be of value. Did you receive the newspapers—the ones I asked for?"

"Not yet," said Louis.

"Please try and contact whomever you have working for you in New York to send you copies. And now I would like to be alone for a while. Do go out and have some lunch; when you return, you may go straight into the viewing room."

Franks walked out, and went to lie down in his office. But he did not sleep. He replayed slowly in his mind his exchanges with Vebekka. He was sure this was a case of severe child abuse, that had taken place over a period of years. What amazed him was that none of the many therapists and doctors who had seen Vebekka had diagnosed such a common trauma. However, he felt that there were more layers to be uncovered, he sensed that it was about something deeper—if not, he hated to admit it to himself, but he would be disappointed.

Vebekka slept deeply, totally relaxed. Maja checked her pulse, and drew the blanket closer around her. She emptied the ash trays from the viewing room, and then went to have a quick lunch, peeking into Franks's office to tell him she was leaving. He was fast asleep on his couch.

♦ ♦ ♦

Grimaldi slept like a dead man. Ruda had opened the trailer windows, thrown out the empty bottles, but he had not stirred. She prepared for the afternoon's rehearsal. In the evening there would be the dress rehearsal: in full costume, lights, ringmaster, and all. She still needed more time to get the cats used to the new plinths. She took out her costume, and got the ironing board ready to iron the jacket. She opened the blinds and looked skyward. The sun was still trying to break through, but more rain clouds had gathered. She crossed her fingers, hoping the forecasted storm would hold off, and then she left to feed the cats.

Grimaldi heard the door close, as if from some great distance. Slowly he opened his eyes, and moaned as the light blinded him. He lifted his head and fell back with a groan. His body ached, his head throbbed, even his teeth hurt. He let his jaw hang loose; his tongue was dry and rough. One hand gripped the edge of the bunk seat and inch by inch he drew himself into a sitting position. The room spun around and around; his heart hammered in his chest. He needed another drink. He looked around bleary-eyed, but could not see a bottle within reach.

He got to his knees, and then pushed himself upright. He fumbled in a cupboard for a bottle, knocking over glasses, sauces, cans of food. He began to retch uncontrollably and staggered into the shower. Turning on the cold water he slumped again onto his knees, and let the cold water drench him.

Grimaldi peeled off his soaking shirt and pants. He had such a pounding headache that he was seeing tiny white sparks shooting, dancing in front of his eyes. He moaned and swore, but now he eased off his pants and propped himself up under the shower, turning on the hot water. He began to feel the life coming back into his limbs, his chest, but his headache felt as though unseen hands were pressing his ears together. He could not remember how he had got into such a state and did not begin to piece it together until he sat down hunched up in a towel with a mug of black coffee. He hung his head and sobbed, but the movement made his head scream, so he gulped more and more coffee and a handful of aspirin. The pills stuck in his gut and he burped loudly. Weaving unsteadily to the sink, he looked at himself. His eyes were bloodshot; his face yellowish, unshaven. "Dear God, why do I do this to myself? Why?"

He began to shave, fragmented memories of the previous evening making him feel disgusted. Poor little Tina, he had to talk to her…and then he saw Ruda's face smiling at him, and saw Tina huddled half-naked against the wall, and he bowed his head with shame. He remembered now he had left her in the club, so aptly named the Slaughterhouse. In fact, he had led her like a lamb to the slaughter.

He got himself dressed, and the effort exhausted him. He sat morosely trying to find the strength to get himself out of the trailer and across to Tina's. He put on a pair of dark glasses, and, still unsteady, he crossed the trailer park, knocked on Tina's door and waited. He knocked again. A voice inside yelled for whoever it was to wait. Tina's girlfriend opened up, she was wearing jodhpurs and pulling on a sweater over a grubby bra. She looked at Grimaldi and tugged her sweater down.

"What do you want?"

"Tina in?"

"You must be joking…"

"Where is she?"

The girl went back into the trailer, and came out again carrying a rain cape. She slung it around her shoulders while he stood there like a dumb animal. The girl looked at him with disgust. "She's gone, packed her bags and gone, you bastard!"

He tried to reach for her arm, to stop her from leaving. "I don't understand, what do you mean she's gone?"

"Ask your wife, shithead, ask your bloody wife!"

"Gone where?"

"Home. She's gone back to the States."

"Did she leave a letter?"

"What you want? A forwarding address? Dickhead! She's gone—left, understand? You'll never see her again."

His mind reeled, and he leaned against the side of the old trailer. The girl sauntered off, calling out to two guys leading a couple of horses through to the ring.

Grimaldi walked a few paces and then stopped. He turned back to the trailer, sure the girl was lying.

"Tina?…
Tina?!
"

He kicked at the set of steps in a fury. He felt impotent, angry, unable to believe she would go away, leave him without a word. He turned toward the big tent and began to weave his way toward it, cursing loudly, striking out at the sides of trailers as he passed.

♦ ♦ ♦

Mike ran into the meat truck looking for Ruda. He was told she was feeding the cats. Mike took off, calling her name, dodging animals as they were being led into the ring.

Ruda was coming out of Sasha's cage and wheeling the feed trolley on to the next cage. Mike shouted for her; she turned to look in his direction. She entered the next cage and put down the food, talking softly to the tigers as they approached her. She rubbed their heads, tossing chunks of meat to them. Mike was still calling her. She let herself out, bolted the cage, maneuvering the trolley. "I'm here, Mike!"

He ran toward her, his face flushed. "It's the boss, he's screaming and yelling over at the main ring, you'd better get him. Mr. Schmidt is walking around, and a party of school kids has just arrived."

Ruda muttered, "I have to finish the feed."

"He looks kind of crazy, Ruda, he's breaking up chairs. No one can get near him."

Ruda picked up Mamon's big bowl and unbolted his cage. She stepped inside. "Be right with you…Ma'angel…come on, dinner time, come on baby."

Mike leaned against the bars. "He's thrown a punch at Willy Noakes, kicked a hole in his trailer."