The Vigilante (11 page)

Looking deeply into her eyes, Dr. Carton saw the certain look of a terrible knowledge he’d never seen in Martha. “Who am I talking to?” he asked. His heart raced, thinking of the phenomena he believed had happened.

She uttered a harsh laugh. “Guess who, Doc?” She crossed her legs. “I’m Serena. You wanted to meet me, didn’t you? Well, here I am.” She thrust out her breasts and gave him a highly suggestive leer, accompanied with a half-laugh.

Dr. Carton nearly stammered. “Tell me about yourself, Serena.”

“Cut the crap, Doc. You already know what I’m about. That pathetic wimp, Martha, needed me. I kept her from going crackers. She needs me now too, don’t you know? Or do you?” A look of slyness emanated from her eyes. Then, glancing at Dr. Schoenfeld, she sniffed, “And who’s this little pip-squeak sitting in here with us?”

Carton introduced Dr. Schoenfeld. “He’s here to help with the hypnosis. Looks like it worked all too well.” Then, his voice firm but gentle, he asked her, “Please, I would like to speak to Martha now.” He feared Martha might be submerged overly long and needed to assess her mental status after the traumatic event they’d just witnessed.

“No sweat, doc.” Serena turned away, twisting in her chair.

When she turned back, both doctors easily recognized Martha. They were stunned to have seen this phenomenon. Neither doctor had ever seen that particular occurrence before today, and it took them a moment to find their voices.

Dr. Carton said, “Martha, you did very well. We will be able to help you. In time, you’ll remember everything. Would you like to know what’s happening, and why?”

“Of course—but, will it be something terrible? I’m not so sure...” Her face paled, her eyes deepened to a darker green, and both doctors could see the icy dread they held.

“Nothing that was your fault, but something did happen to you as a child. We need to help you put everything together. We now know you have an alternate personality. One created in childhood to help you survive some very traumatic events, none of which were your fault.” Dr. Carton repeated, carefully leading Martha toward enlightenment and guilt avoidance.

“We need to end this session for today. We’ll take it up again, perhaps in our next meeting.” He ordered a new appointment for Martha and gently took her arm to usher her out of the office.

“Thank you both. I feel lighter somehow. Then, will I have to undergo hypnotherapy again?” The biting edge of fear had crept softly into her voice, though she managed a smile for her doctor.

“Yes, likely many more times,” Dr. Carton answered.

She waved goodbye, and walked out into the brightness of a fine, spring day.

In the confines of his office, Dr. Carton clamped his hand on Dr. Shoenfeld’s shoulder. “Whew! How about that? I’ve heard of it, of course, but never had a case of D.I.D. I’ve never seen anything like that in my entire career.” He sat leaning back in his chair, feeling amazed, saddened, yet completely elated.

“Thanks for allowing me to participate, Michael. I’ve never seen anything like that in my practice either, nor met anyone who has. It’s that damned rare, and I’ve been practicing a long, long time.” Dr. Schoenfeld turned to leave. “I’ve a patient waiting at the moment, but I’d certainly like to sit in on your next therapy with Martha.”

“Carton laughed uncertainly. “Sure thing, Herman, sure thing. I value your company on this journey, and that’s the truth. Thanks again.”

***

Martha drove erratically through the streets, her thoughts spinning wildly out of control. “Ye Gods—an alter—what is that? You can bet I’ll be studying that aberration.” She barely saw where she drove as her mind dealt with Dr. Carton’s findings. “Maybe I’ll understand why these crazy things have been happening. I need to find out, but dear God, I’m afraid to know.”

She swerved to miss a pedestrian. “What would Bob think if he knew what a nut case I am?” She had another date with him, too. “I’m getting in way over my head with him.” Feeling helpless and frightened, she heaved a deep sigh.

She had no idea of her direction and paid little attention as she drove through the streets. Ignoring the fine weather, swaying trees, and flowering shrubs along the byways, she passed cars, busses, and nearly decked a man crossing the street. “Oh man, I’ve got to watch it or I won’t live long enough to find out what’s wrong with me!”

Martha found herself at Jeannie’s, not even realizing she’d driven that way. She went in. “How’s Will?” She spoke automatically, barely able to form a coherent sentence, while an inner turmoil raged inside her mind.

“He’s better, a little maybe. I heard him laugh at something on TV yesterday. A cartoon, I think it was.” The hopeful sound in Jeannie’s voice helped Martha regain her senses. Hearing about Will helped her return to normal thought.

“So glad to hear that, even a small advance helps, doesn’t it?” She hesitated. “Jeannie, I should tell you something, not to worry you—but I learned something today. As a small child, something happened to me and I’m just now finding out about it.” She held up her hand to stop Jeannie’s questions. “I’m seeing a really good doctor, and at least I know I’m not going crazy. For a while, I really thought I was, but I couldn’t tell you. You’ve so much on your mind, you don’t need more.” She paused, wondering how far to go with her news.

“Mom!” Jeannie cried, her hands shaking. Tears filled her eyes. “What’s going on to make you say such things?”

“I’ll tell you everything in time. I don’t know enough about it myself, yet. The doctor said I’ll be just fine, once we get it out in the open. So that’s a load off.” Martha found she could laugh about her problems, something she’d never imagined just a few days ago. She also found being able to inform her daughter a little helped lighten the mental confusion of the past few months.

“Try not to worry, if I thought it would turn out wrong, I don’t think I could have burdened you with it, but it’s good to be able to talk about it now that I have a clue.” Martha picked up her still strange-looking purse and, subduing her wild thoughts about that item, laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow—and I think I have a boyfriend!”

“Mother!” Jeannie gasped, her tone exasperated. “You are full of surprises!”

“See ya.”

Martha took her leave without further explanation to Jeannie. Driving home, she felt the haziness overtaking her and barely made it into her bed. She felt unbelievably tired, but how good it had been to unburden herself, if only the smallest amount. “Maybe I’ll be all right,” she murmured as she drifted into a deep slumber. Her last thought was,
What mischief will my alter commit tonight while I sleep
?

***

Martha had another date with Bob. Basking in the glow of the unusual sensations he sent zinging through her body, she wanted more of it, so much more. On the other hand, if he knew about her mental condition, would he want anything to do with a woman suffering from a raging case of psychic aberration?

Her tortured mind swirled with worry.
I wonder how much of this
crazy stuff would be safe to tell, if I ever dare to
?
He’s certainly known enough sorrow of his own, and he always knows when things aren’t right.
He’s a nurse, too. Maybe he’d understand, but I can’t say anything, not yet.
Bob’s no fool, but who on earth would understand an alter personality
?

CHAPTER 12

Martha felt like she barely knew what she was doing. “A ship without an anchor, that’s me. Will I crash against the sharp rocks of insanity?” She laughed aloud at her quandary.

After extensive research about Dissociative Identity Disorder, Martha knew her past held the answers—terrible answers she dreaded to learn. An added sorrow that shocked her and hurt deeply was that her parents had not protected her. This painful heartache made her wonder how many other hapless children dared not tell their parents what was happening. Small children were often forced to suffer the horrors of abuse, alone, terribly afraid, with no one to turn to. This new knowledge made facing the next appointment a greater anxiety, unlike anything she’d ever known or imagined.

She hadn’t taken a shift in two weeks fearing for the safety of her patients. They deserved a nurse who had her head screwed on straight, didn’t they? The sound of the doorbell nearly made her jump out of her skin.

With racing heart, she met Bob at the door, a warm smile across her lips as she flung it open wide.

Try though she might, she knew her eyes betrayed a deeper misery she couldn’t hide. Clearly unable to miss the depth of her distress, he hugged her and laughed. “All right, lady, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re all tied in knots again, girl, have been for several weeks. Right now it’s worse than ever, and I can see it. You can tell me anything, you know that.” He held her out from him, looking deep into her eyes. “Does it have to do with those purple spots on your arm, a few weeks ago? It’s okay if you can’t tell me. Just know I’m here for you.”

Martha wanted to sink through the floor. “I don’t really know how I got those, Bob. I just woke up with them on my arm one morning. It really has me worried—I’d tell you if I knew.”

She didn’t mention the time lapses, or the psychiatrist, however, and certainly not the oversexed high-legged boots. She uttered a weak, tinny, little laugh and held her hands out in a helpless gesture. “Think I’m looney, huh?”

“No way, lady. Let’s go eat, I’m starved, okay?” He ushered her to his vehicle, touching her waist as he helped her in. She felt damned good. Lately, touching her occupied a good bit of his mind. He was a patient man. In time, he’d know everything about her, and he wasn’t worried. For some reason, he felt he understood her without knowing what the hell bothered the woman. He’d wait and help her when that time came. A
m I falling in love
?
he often wondered.

Again, when their evening was over, he kissed her at the door, but she didn’t invite him in. Bob thought she wanted to get closer, maybe wanted him, but some inner secret or sinister darkness held her back. He left her and drove away chuckling softly to himself. “Someday we’ll get together. When we do, look out, lady. I’m ready, oh so damned ready!”

***

“How are Will’s treatments going?” Martha asked. She’d come to take the boy for another lunch at
Biggie’s Burgers.

“I wish I knew, mom. Sometimes I believe his reaction to things, when you take him to eat, gives us a better picture. He still won’t ask his regular playmates to come over and I’ve noticed a subtle reluctance on the part of some mothers to have their children here. For heaven’s sake, being attacked by a monster like Callahan isn’t something that rubs off on anyone,” Jeannie said, her pretty face tensed with frustration.

Seeing her out flung hands, Martha tried to placate her. “Who knows how anyone will react. People are frequently put off by someone who has suffered tragic circumstances. Perhaps they feel guilty it didn’t happen to them, or maybe they actually feel some of the evil karma might rub off. I don’t know, Jeannie.”

Just then Will came rushing up to Martha’s side. “Grammy, we goin’ to
Biggie’s
?” His excited face turned upward, urging her to take him.

Martha saw with delight, the excitement in the little boy’s eyes. “Sure we are, Will. Get your red jacket and we’ll go.” She raised her eyebrows in silent surprise to Jeannie. “How about that? At least this particular outing seems to help his mood. Thank the good Lord for that, anyway.”

“Mom, thanks for taking him. It helps so much.” Jeannie helped her young son into the safety seat, fastened the straps, and kissed him goodbye.

As they drove away, Martha asked, “How are you today, Will?” She glimpsed her grandson in the rearview mirror, hoping for the continued excitement he’d shown.

His little face contorted in confusion. “Oh, Grammy, sometimes I see bad things at night. A big, soft thing chases me and I can’t get away.”

In that instant, Martha caught a glimpse of deep sadness and fear on her grandson’s face. The now familiar blind rage swept over her again and she barely managed a reply. “Yes, Will, those are dreams, and we all have them, but they are
never
real. Remember that. I had them as a child, too. Nothing is chasing you when you wake up, is it? Your daddy and mommy are right there waiting. You know, Will, when I was a child, a train used to come off the tracks and chase me all over our fields. It never caught me, though.”

“I know. They don’t catch me, either, Grammy, but they make me real scared. Sometimes I don’t have bad things after me, I just think about bad stuff.”

Martha thought about asking him to tell her about his frightening dreams and thoughts, but feared complicating matters with Will’s therapist. What to do? She didn’t know and didn’t take him further into it. She breathed a sigh of relief when they arrived at the brightly colored
Biggie’
s.

After eating Will headed toward the play area. This time, more at ease, he removed his sneakers, put them in the bin, and joined in with several others his size. They ran and played happily for a while and Martha relaxed, enjoying the happy sight of Will playing normally.

Suddenly Will came shrieking to Martha’s side. “Grammy, that big boy is here again!” He looked up at her with tear-filled eyes and she hated the fear and cowardice he displayed. He looked like a whipped puppy as she reached out and took him in her arms.

“Has he hurt you, Will?”

“No, but he might hurt me. I want to go home now—please, Grammy?”

Not knowing what other course to follow, Martha helped him on with his shoes then took his hand to lead him from the play area, but she halted when they saw the bullying child shove another boy smaller than himself.

That little guy stood his ground and refused to move. He took a swing and punched the bully in the face. Will watched the incident with rapt attention. He tensed as he saw the startled bully take on an astonished mien, begin crying, and run to his mother. The boy’s nose dripped blood and mucus down the front of his shirt.