Everywhere That Tommy Goes (29 page)

“Where are you, Tommy?”

“At the camp,” Tommy answered in a teenage voice. “Summer is here.”

“What camp? Tell me all about it.”

Tommy laughed. “Lakewood, and there’s Big Bob. Man, I haven’t seen him since last year.”

“Who’s Big Bob?”

“Oh, he’s my best friend at camp—met him last summer. He works in the kitchen. He’s a couple years older than me and built like a brick shithouse. The dude lifts weights all the time, and he’s funny as hell. Tells the best jokes ever. He’s always making me laugh.”

“So what’s going on, Tommy?”

“I run over to him, and he’s got this big grin on his face. He hugs me real hard. ‘How you doing, Tommy?’ he asks me. Then he lets go and throws some light jabs at my gut, but he doesn’t actually hit me. He’s just kidding around.”

“Sounds like you like him, Tommy,” Dr. O’Reilly whispered. “Go on. Tell me more.”

“Yeah, he’s a great guy. We hung out a lot last summer, but he lives in Florida, so I never got to see him after camp.”

“It’s nice that you guys became friends and could pick it up after an entire year.”

“I know, but that’s BB . . . Yeah, BB—everyone at camp used to call him that for short, and he liked it, so one day last year, he carved those initials into the side of the banana tree by the sports field.” Tommy’s body language changed suddenly, and the color left his face.

“What is it, Tommy? What just happened? You look upset.”

“Nothing—never mind,” Tommy said, agitated. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I promise you’ll feel much better if you do.”

He shook his head, struggling within himself. “I’m scared. BB’s gone. They took him to the hospital. I think he’s dead.”

“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry, but you have to let it out.”

Tommy began to cry, wincing as he spoke. “I’m leaning on the banana tree watching the baseball game. BB’s pitching. The batter takes a swing, and the ball comes flying back and hits him right in the chest. He goes down. All the counselors run over to him and start pushing on his chest. Then they give him mouth-to-mouth. There’s so many people around, but I swear it’s never been so quiet. Then, like ten minutes later, an ambulance shows up and takes him away. The whole time I’m staring like it’s not real, and as hard as I try, I can’t get myself to move away from the tree. The damn tree—why does everything have to happen around that stupid tree?”

“What do you mean, Tommy? What is it about the tree?”

Visibly disturbed, Tommy’s body shifted as he screamed, “No, don’t do that! Leave her alone!”

Startled, Dr. O’Reilly jumped back.

Tommy sat upright, his eyes still closed.

“What is it, Tommy? What’s going on now?”

His breathing quickened. “It’s real late at night and no one’s around. He’s got Ellen pressed up against the banana tree. They’re both naked.”

“Who, Tommy? Who is she with?”

“I dunno.”

“Okay, what are they doing?”

“He’s on top of her, and she’s crying. I wanna go over and help, but I can’t move or even speak. It’s like I’m paralyzed or something.”

“I understand—just go on. Tell me what’s happening now.”

“He’s getting off of her, and she’s crying real loud, so he puts his hands around her throat. Oh, no, he’s choking her, and I still can’t move. Then, all of a sudden, she stops crying, and he lets go. She slides off the tree and falls to the ground. I think she’s dead. A few seconds go by, and he puts his clothes on, grabs her clothes, tosses her over his shoulder, and carries her off. Finally, my legs start to work again. I follow him down to the waterfront. He throws her into a rowboat, gets in, and rows out to the middle of the lake. I’m so scared I can barely catch my breath. I run away like some chickenshit and sneak back into my bunk. I crawl under the covers real quietly, shivering like mad.”

“That’s awful, Tommy. Did you tell anyone?”

“No—I was too scared.” Tommy whimpered.

“And you don’t know who did this?”

“No! I swear I’ve got no idea.”

“Okay, Tommy, it’s not your fault, don’t worry about this any more. It’s only a bad dream.” The doctor stands, moves behind Tommy, and gently massages his shoulders. “Now, I want you to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. As you breathe, the smell of freshly-cut grass is filling up inside you, and you can almost taste it.” Her voice was silk-soft. “It’s warm, the sun is shining, and everything feels good.”

Tommy sighed, his body loosened, and he slumped over on the couch.

“You’re feeling much better—aren’t you, Tommy?”

“Much better,” Tommy smiled. “It smells like summer.”

“Good. I want you to jump forward a bit,” her voice now mellifluous. “You’re no longer a boy. You’re a man, and you’ve made a new friend—Troyer Savage—and I need you to tell me all about him.”

Tommy’s body stiffened. “Troyer! He’s no friend. I hate that lunatic.”

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I didn’t mean to upset you. Tell me, why do you hate him?”

“He’s a total scumbag—that’s why.”

“What did he do to you?”

“You see, the guy acted like he wanted to be my friend. We started hanging out a lot. One night, he goes psycho on me and kills this bartender, and leaves me to clean up the mess. Then, only a few days later, he kills another girl and does it to me again.”

“He sounds like a deranged individual. How did you get involved with him?”

“Shit, it don’t matter. The dude’s just bad news, and he’s ruining my life.”

“Please, I really want to know all about him.”

Tommy became irritated. “Why do you care about him so much? He’s just a crazy prick!”

“It’s you I care about, Tommy. I truly want to help. But the only way I can do that is if you tell me more about Troyer Savage. Please settle down and take another deep breath. Fill your lungs with the smell of fresh-cut grass again, and when you’ve relaxed, we can talk about him some more.” Dr. O’Reilly looked up at the two-way mirror knowing that even though she couldn’t see him, Levy was watching.

Tommy inhaled deeply, trying to regain his composure.

Dr. O’Reilly took a pause, waiting for a sign that Tommy had calmed down, before she spoke again. “Okay, let’s go back to Troyer. I want you to be specific now, so try as hard as you can to get past your anger and tell me everything you can about him.”

Covering his ears with his hands, Tommy began to speak. “I thought he was so cool, the way he acted around people—especially girls. I mean, the dude was legend. I watched him pick up chicks all the time like it was nothing. ‘Hunting the fox while still in its den’ is the way he described it. And he was teaching me. Then, one night, I’m watching the dude while he picks up some hot bartender.” Suddenly, Tommy’s voice and demeanor changed. “Hello, love, I’m from Down Under, just visiting for a spell, don’t know much about New York. Can you help me out?”

“That’s a wonderful accent, Tommy,” Dr. O’Reilly said lightly, though she was clearly surprised by what she had just heard.

“You wanted to know about Troyer, so I’m telling you. You see, when I first met him he didn’t have an accent, but the night he killed the bartender he started talking to her like that. At the time I was impressed, but ever since then he hasn’t stopped talking that way. His new story is that he grew up in Australia. But I know that’s not true.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, looking up at the mirror and wondering if Levy had picked up on what just happened.

“Because when we first met, he told me he was raised in an orphanage. He also told me he ran away from there because a priest was abusing him. For many years after that, he lived on the streets.”

“That is quite a story, Tommy. But how do you know he didn’t just make all that up?”

“I never really thought about it. I simply assumed it was true. Why would anybody make up something like that?”

“I really couldn’t tell you. Hopefully, together we can get to the bottom of this. For now, I think you should get some rest.”

Dr. O’Reilly talked Tommy down and brought him out of the trance, leaving him with no memory of what had just transpired.

CHAPTER 83

“Quite a session, there,” Levy said as Dr. O’Reilly entered the observation room.

“To say the least, Counselor. As you can see, this young man is deeply troubled.”

“He’s got quite the story. What do you make of it?”

“Tommy certainly has been traumatized—numerous times—which may explain his current manifestations. After observing the change in his body language as he adopted the Australian accent, my sense is that he may be suffering from DID.”

“DID? What the hell is that?”

“Come on: you mean to tell me you haven’t heard about the latest and greatest psychological re-definition of the modern era?”

“No, Doctor, I haven’t. Please enlighten me.”

“Well, DID stands for Dissociative Identity Disorder. It’s the modern-day equivalent of Sybil. Remember that story?”

“What—like multiple personalities?” Levy asked.

“Precisely. The old definition of Multiple Personality Disorder is now known as Dissociative Identity Disorder. And I think Tommy may be a classic case.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I never joke about my work, Harold. You know that.”

“It’s just that this is so bizarre.”

“That it is. And I must caution you, that this is only a preliminary diagnosis. I could be wrong. Tommy did give me a very credible answer as to why he mimicked Troyer Savage.”

“Yes, but you also said that his body language changed.”

“I did, and that is the only reason why I even suspect DID. I need more evidence, though, before I can make a real diagnosis.”

“What kind of evidence?” asked Levy.

“After he's had some time to relax, I have to hypnotize him again and see if I can draw out the Troyer Savage personality.”

“Sounds logical. I’ m sure I can arrange it in the next day or two. In the meantime, please prepare a written report of your findings.” Levy put his finger to his lips and thought for a moment. “I’ve got an idea, and I think Aurora Storm may be able to help us with your diagnosis. She’s the only one who has spent time with both Troyer and Tommy. Perhaps she can shed some light.”

CHAPTER 84

The Port Jervis police finally released Aurora’s car from evidence, and she made her way to New York City to visit Tommy. Levy reached her on her cell while she was still in transit, and the two arranged to meet when she arrived.

An hour later, the two met in the lobby bar of the Marriott Hotel in lower Manhattan.

“I’m glad we could finally get together and talk, Ms. Storm,” Levy said, extending his hand.

“Please, call me Aurora,” she said, reaching out to greet him.

“Very well, Aurora. Would you care for a drink while we talk?”

“Absolutely. I’ll take a Coors Lite.”

Levy motioned for a waiter. “Absolut Cranberry and a Coors Lite, please.” Turning to Aurora, he began. “Okay, as you know, I’m Tommy’s attorney, and I would like to ask you some questions . . .”

Aurora interrupted. “Wait—before you do, how is Tommy?”

“He’s fine for now, and he asked me to give you a message. He wanted me to tell you that he said he’s innocent and that he’s sorry he brought you into this mess, and when he works everything out, he will make it up to you.”

Aurora smiled. “When can I see him?”

“Soon. But first, we need to talk, so if you please . . .”

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

The waiter returned with their drinks and set them down.

“Thank you,” Levy said, turning to Aurora. “How long have you known Tommy?”

“We knew each other as kids, but I hadn’t seen him for twenty years before he walked into my shop in Cape May,” Aurora took a sip of her beer.

“Can you tell me about that and how you two ended up in Port Jervis?”

“Well, Tommy came in and bought a bunch of clothes. It took us a few minutes before we realized that we knew each other, but once we did, some of the old feelings came back. Coincidently, he was my first kiss. Anyway, he told me that he was being followed. He bought some new clothes to change his appearance, put them on, and left out the back door. We hooked up again when I got off work, and he told me this wild story about some guy he knew who killed two girls and framed Tommy. I looked into his eyes and believed him right away. I’m very good at reading people, you know, and Tommy’s no killer.”

“You mean to say that you just jumped right in and took up the cause of a possible murderer? Someone you barely knew at all, and hadn’t seen in twenty years, knowing the police were looking for him?”

“When you put it that way, it sounds crazy, but it really wasn’t like that at all. You met Tommy, so you know. He couldn’t be a killer.”

“Honestly, Aurora, I think you may soon find out it’s a lot more complicated than that. But let’s continue. What can you tell me about Troyer Savage?”

“Only what Tommy told me about him. He’s a nutcase and he’s the killer. I’m sure you know that he kidnapped me, tied me up, and left me in a shack in the woods.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Levy answered. “Please tell me more about it. How did it happen?”

“I’m not exactly sure how he first got to me. You see, the last thing I remember, Tommy walked out of the room while I was taking a shower. I was so tired I must have fallen asleep on the bed. When I woke up, I was blindfolded and tied to a chair. I yelled out, and no one answered. At that point, I figured it had to be Troyer, considering everything Tommy told me about him.”

“I see. So what happened next?”

“A few hours later, I heard the door open, and Troyer came in.”

“How did you know it was Troyer if you were blindfolded, and you had never met him before?”

“It was the way he talked. Tommy told me he was faking an Australian accent. Who else could it have been?”

“That’s a good question,” Levy said. “Forgetting the accent, did his voice sound familiar?”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“The pitch, the tone, the sound of his voice, was there any familiarity to it?”

“Not that I could tell.”

“Okay, then, do you recall what he said?”