The Many (5 page)

Another forty minutes later, Stacey emerged from the doctor’s office looking much the same as when she went in: pale, dead-eyed and hunched. She smiled weakly at Karl and went directly to his side, awaiting further instructions.

“Well, that turned into a lengthy session,” Dr. Ramirez said breezily, following Stacey into the waiting room. “I should have told you to bring a book,” she said to Karl. Then to Stacey: “You’re not too tired?”

“No,” Stacey said. “Thank you, Anita.”

“It was my pleasure. And you’re sure you’re comfortable with what we discussed? For next time?”

“Yes. If Karl agrees.”

“Very good. I’ll talk to your brother now.” She motioned Karl into her office. “We won’t be long, Stacey.”

Karl glanced behind him, watching his sister quietly take a seat and fold her hands in her lap. She seemed settled, and calm, but Karl didn’t take that as a good sign.  He knew it was already too late to save her job. Stacey’s unpaid leave ran out on Monday, and even if she managed to drag her feet into the office, she wasn’t going to sell much advertising in her current state. She could barely drum up the energy to speak let alone hustle for a sale.

Feeling like he’d been called into the principal’s office, Karl parked himself in one of the leather armchairs while Dr. Ramirez veered off to a satinwood writing desk at the far end of the room.

“Sorry, I just have to find a booklet for you,” she said, impatiently opening and shutting drawers, her huffiness returning. “Found it,” she said with a final slam of a desk drawer, She promptly joined him in the seated area and perched herself on the edge of a sofa, flipping back through a ringed notebook. She paused to tap her pen on a densely written page, nodding to herself, then looked up at Karl. He felt her taking a mental picture of his expression, as if to monitor how it soon might change.

“There’s nothing wrong with your sister,” she said. “Not that I can see.”

Karl held his composure, not giving anything away. “Does it normally take two hours to reach that conclusion?”

She smiled tightly. “I was being thorough, looking for the warning signs of depression, anxiety, bipolar. Things you indicated she might be suffering from. It takes time to sift through the information from a new patient, to peek under all the rocks. And I’m pleased to inform you, she showed none of the symptoms of a mental disorder.”

“But Dr. Ramirez, I swear to you she’s changed.”

“How so?”

Karl swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling like it was his own mental condition under the microscope. “In lots of ways. She’s quiet now, like the life’s been sucked out of her. If you met her two months ago, you wouldn’t think she was the same person. She used to talk too much and crack stupid jokes and laugh all the time. And she was smart. Not academic smart but quick-witted, you know?” Karl paused mid thought, sensing Dr. Ramirez was about to take notes.

“I’m not analyzing you,” she reassured. “I’m just interested in your observations because from my perspective, meeting Stacey for the first time, she comes across as a perfectly normal young woman. Quiet, like you say, but certainly not depressed.”

“But that’s my point. If you asked any of Stacey’s friends to describe her, not one of them would say quiet. They’d say bubbly, carefree, the life of the party…actually, why don’t I give you their names…”

“–
No
, Karl,” Dr. Ramirez interjected. “Therapy doesn’t work like that, we’re not building a legal case against her. But I will take your points on board. You think she’s withdrawn, hiding her true emotions. Like she’s internalizing a recent trauma?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I think.”

“And you believe this trauma has something to do with a blind date she went on in November. With a man she met over the internet.”

“She told you about him?”

“Of course. She said you were very upset she didn’t come home that night. In fact, she thinks you’ve developed an unhealthy obsession with her personal life.”

Karl felt his cheeks redden. “She’s talking crap. That’s just a smoke screen to make you think I’m the one with the problem. I’m guessing she didn’t tell you what happened on Christmas Day?”

“No. Should she have?”

Karl was itching to tell Dr. Ramirez that two weeks ago Stacey was bashing her mother’s head against a kitchen cupboard and howling on the floor like a madwoman, but he just managed to hold his tongue. He didn’t want Stacey to be treated as a violent basket case, someone in need of a straightjacket and a padded cell. Not if there was a chance she might recover in her own time.

“It’s probably not important,” he said bitterly. “But Christ, she’s really pulled the wool over your eyes.”

If Dr. Ramirez was insulted, she didn’t show it. “That’s not true, Karl,” she said. “I am merely discussing the key points of our conversation, as we agreed. And in my professional opinion, this blind date is at the heart of the matter. It is the reason we are sitting here now. You believe Stacey may have been date raped and is suppressing the memory. She believes the rape is a manifestation of your own sexual desires. A way for you to continue fantasizing about your sister without feeling guilt. Transferring your own shame and self-loathing onto a stranger.”

Karl stood up, his face on fire. “That’s a lie,” he seethed.

“She blames herself for not confronting you earlier,” Dr. Ramirez continued calmly. “She told me how you struggled with the boundaries of a sibling relationship during puberty, especially when she became sexually active at a relatively young age. It must have been a confusing time for you.”

Karl turned his head away in disgust. “I can’t listen to this,” he said quietly, his stomach rolling. He waited until the nausea passed before sitting down, collecting his thoughts. “I know you think you’re onto something but believe me, she’s playing you like a fiddle. I love my sister like a sister, nothing more. Our sibling relationship was just fine until she went on that fucking blind date.”

Dr. Ramirez resumed tapping her pen on the notepad, her mouth twisting to the side. She didn’t seem to be buying his argument.

He was about to put an end to the conversation when Dr. Ramirez spoke up. “I’d like to see her again,” she said, her small head nodding once, as if the decision had already been made. She handed him a yellow pamphlet.

Karl noted the title – “Understanding Psychotherapy” – then looked at her quizzically. “I don’t understand. I thought you said there was nothing wrong with her.” 

“Nothing clinically wrong with her, no. But that doesn’t mean she won’t benefit from ongoing therapy. Karl, you must realize that psychotherapy isn’t only for people with schizophrenia and manic depression. The vast majority of my patients are perfectly normal, healthy people who want to fine tune certain aspects of their lives – whether it be strengthening relationships, building confidence at work, or re-prioritizing goals. Stacey has expressed certain things she wants to work on and I think I can help her. The only stumbling block is this highly irregular deal you have, where you are involved in her therapy. It is most unhelpful but she refuses to move forward without your consent. That is what I would like to ask you now. Will you let go of her, Karl? Will you allow your sister to make her own decisions?”

Karl took a moment to consider his options. Dr. Ramirez obviously believed Stacey’s version of events and further sessions would almost certainly fail to exorcise her demons. But at the same time, there were no guarantees another psychologist wouldn’t draw the same conclusions.

There was one more avenue they hadn’t explored. “Do you practice hypnotherapy?” he asked.

She sighed heavily. “Is this about the blind date again? It’s really not a healthy preoccupation.”

“Look, if the significance of the blind date is just a figment of my imagination, it won’t do Stacey any harm to relive the memory.”

“But it’s a waste of time, she remembers the evening perfectly.”

“You’re wrong. She’s just telling you what you want to hear.”

“I’ve been in this business for more than twenty years,” she said crisply. “I can tell when a patient is suppressing trauma.”

“Well, I’ve known my sister for twenty years and I’m convinced she’s hiding something, either consciously or subconsciously. It’s all because of that night, Doctor, that’s why we’re here. Why not use hypnosis to get a clearer picture of what happened? If it turns out they had consensual sex and nothing more, I’ll back right off and you can treat Stacey however you like.”             

The veins in Dr. Ramirez’s neck strained, the first visible crack in her controlled manner. Karl sensed she was debating whether to kick them both to the curb, or agree to the hypnosis and prove that her powers as a psychologist were far greater than his brotherly intuition.

“But maybe you’re not trained in hypnotherapy,” Karl added, hoping to tip the balance in his favor.

“I have considerable training in hypnotherapy,” she bristled. “My qualifications are not in question here. I am only concerned for your sister’s well-being and whether hypnosis is an appropriate course of action.”

Karl shrugged, as if he didn’t believe a word of it. Throwing down the gauntlet.

Dr. Ramirez gave a small grunt of irritation and then stood up, walking briskly to her desk. She said, “But I won’t let this unhealthy obsession of yours stand in the way of Stacey’s personal development. If a hypnotherapy session is what it takes to get you out of her affairs, then so be it.” She consulted a diary on her desk. “Later next week, I should be able to move something around. Call my secretary tomorrow.”

She looked up from her desk, her eyes advising him that the meeting was over. Karl wasn’t offended by the cool farewell – he had played his hand perfectly. In a few days, he would have his evidence.

8

The hypnotherapy session was scheduled for Friday afternoon at 4:00 p.m. It was a wretched mid-winter’s day in Portland, the downtown traffic obscured by a heavy mist, the sidewalks almost deserted in spite of every store window advertising extensions on their January sales. Thirty and forty percent off just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Retailers needed to offer half price or two-for-one deals to stand out from the crowd, and even then their stores were empty.

Rain began sweeping down in cold gray sheets, making it difficult for Karl and Stacey to position their umbrellas as they walked towards Dr. Ramirez’s building. They were both wet and shivering by the time they reached the lobby, but even the dismal weather couldn’t dampen Karl’s enthusiasm. After three weeks of tearing his hair out with worry and chaperoning a sister he was beginning to genuinely dislike, he was at last on the verge of a breakthrough. Hypnosis was sure to fill in the lost hours from the infamous blind date, the night Stacey changed. And he’d had enough time to brace himself for the horror likely to rise to the surface. However traumatic, they would deal with it as a family. He just wanted his sister back.

At Stacey’s request, Karl was permitted to accompany his sister into the hypnosis session. Dr. Ramirez had been reluctant, but surprisingly, it was Stacey who’d become insistent on her brother being present while she was under. A sign, Karl believed, that she wasn’t completely numb inside. Deep down, the prospect of reliving the blind date frightened the hell out of her.

They were ushered into Dr. Ramirez’s office a few minutes after 4:00 p.m. The blinds were drawn on the retiring day, and the lights had been turned off except for a dimmed halogen above the doctor’s desk. Karl noticed Stacey hesitate at the edge of the seating area, taken aback by the ambience that could’ve been described as either sinister or soothing, depending on your mood. “It’s okay,” he said, putting a hand on her elbow. “It’s to help you relax.”

Dr. Ramirez shot Karl a dirty look. “Light can be distracting,” she said. “But I can make it a little brighter if you wish.”

“No, I’m fine,” Stacey said, lowering herself into the sofa, appearing to forget what made her hesitate in the first place.

Dr. Ramirez took the armchair next to Stacey, her back to the drawn blinds, while Karl sat opposite, in the darkest part of the room. He’d been looking forward to the session for days but now that he was here, in the hushed, moodily lit office, he felt trapped; nervous. Like he’d settled in to watch a scary movie he no longer wanted to see.

“Just lean back for me, Stacey,” Dr. Ramirez said in a calming tone. “Like you’re sitting in a recliner on a sunny day. Nice and relaxed”

Stacey eased back in the sofa and let her hands fall loosely at her sides. She closed her eyes. “Not yet Stacey,” Dr. Ramirez smiled. “But it’s good you’re already relaxed. That’s excellent. Now I want you to take hold of this pencil…” She held out a long yellow pencil, sharpened to a fine point. “…and hold it between your thumb and index finger. Good. Just like that, in front of your face. Now I want you to close your eyes. Yes. Stay nice and relaxed. You don’t need to speak or nod your head, just listen to my voice and follow my simple instructions. I know you’ll understand. Now take a deep breath and exhale slowly. That’s right, really fill up your lungs….and again. Excellent…and again. Keep going, and each time you exhale you feel yourself becoming more and more relaxed. You can feel the oxygen moving through your lungs and into your heart. Yes, you’re very comfortable now. Totally at ease.”

Karl felt his own eyelids growing heavy as he listened to Dr. Ramirez’s calm, repetitive directions. He shifted forward in his seat, reminding himself to stay alert.

“The relaxation is spreading through your body. It started in your chest but now it’s moving into your shoulders, down your arms and hands. Through your fingers. And soon your right hand will become so relaxed you won’t be able to keep hold of the pencil. And when it drops, you will sink even further into a very deep and pleasant state of relaxation. Where the only things that exist are the feelings of calm in your body and the gentle sound of my voice. Now, on the count of three, I want you to let the pencil drop from your fingers. When this happens, you will enter a deep hypnotic state and you will keep your eyes closed until I ask you to open them. One….two….”

Stacey appeared to be in a deep sleep already and Karl wondered if she could still hear the doctor’s instructions. But when the count reached three, the pencil duly slipped through her fingers and clattered onto the coffee table. The sharp noise failed to disturb her. She was only aware of Dr. Ramirez’s voice.

Stacey’s right arm flopped to her side and the doctor waited a few seconds before continuing. “That’s good, Stacey. Now that you’re completely relaxed, I want you to move backwards in time, like you’re shuffling through a deck of cards. You only have to go back a couple of months, so the cards look very familiar. And I want you to zoom in on a particular day, Thursday the thirteenth of November. Can you do that?”

Stacey didn’t respond, breathing steadily. “It’s a weekday so you must have been working,” Dr. Ramirez prompted. “But in the evening, you’re going out with someone you met through a dating service. An English doctor. Can you tell me his name?”

“Adam Reynolds,” she said slowly.

“Adam,” Dr. Ramirez repeated. “You’re heading out on a date with Adam. And where have you arranged to meet?”

“At a wine bar downtown. A few blocks from work.”

“That sounds nice. And can you tell me what you’re wearing?”

Stacey didn’t miss a beat. “My Toskana leather coat, a plain white shirt, my beige suede skirt, taupe heels.” She described her clothes like she was reading out a shopping list: dispassionately but with absolute certainty.

“Excellent, Stacey. You’re doing so well – just feel free to add details and comments as you remember the evening, you don’t have to stick to the questions I ask. But first can you tell me how you’re feeling right before the date? Excited? Nervous?”

“Excited. A little nervous because it’s a first date but mostly excited. He was very attractive in his profile photo.”

“Mm-hmm. And when you see him at the wine bar, does he live up to your expectations?”

“Yes. Absolutely. When he stands up to greet me, my legs go all wobbly. He looks like a TV doctor…six foot four, thick dark hair and incredibly handsome. He’s wearing a suit but I can tell he’s got an amazing body underneath. Broad shoulders but trim at the same time, like one of those Olympic swimmers.”

“He sounds impressive. And what’s he like to talk to?”

An empty second passed before Stacey answered. “Nice. He’s really nice.”

Dr. Ramirez picked up on the hesitation. “You seem uncertain.”

“No, he is nice,” she confirmed. “Just not what I expected.”

“In what way, Stacey? Remember, you’re perfectly safe here. You can tell me everything that’s on your mind and no harm will come to you. I promise.”

“Yeah, I understand. It’s hard to describe, that’s all. He just seems a little too nice for his appearance, you know? I’m used to guys like Adam being complete assholes. And Adam’s not just handsome, he’s mega-successful, too.”

The more Stacey talked, the more she sounded like Karl’s big sister of old. She was still speaking unnaturally slowly but some of her colorful language and familiar turns of phrase had returned. She really had stepped back in time.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Dr. Ramirez said. “He’s a bit too smooth.”

“No, that’s not it. He seems a bit….saintly.”

Karl caught the slight, involuntary twitch in Dr. Ramirez’s cheek muscle. “Saintly,” she repeated meaningfully. “That’s an interesting word. Can you give me an example?”

“Well, he does voluntary work for the poor…” She stopped herself. “But that’s not what I’m getting at. It’s the fact he never swears. And he doesn’t laugh at my crappy jokes, or crack any jokes himself. I think it might be a cultural thing.”

“Because he’s English?” Dr. Ramirez prodded.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. But I haven’t met many English guys before so I can’t really tell.”

Dr. Ramirez jotted something down in her pad – the first time Karl had seen her writing. He sensed the extra tension in the air; the subtle change in the doctor’s demeanor. She was beginning to suspect there was more to Stacey’s date than she’d initially thought.

“Let’s get back to the wine bar,” she said. “Do you stay there long?”

“Just two drinks. Then we head across the street, to an Italian restaurant. It’s almost full but we manage to get the last table by the window. I’ve eaten here before but tonight it seems really romantic…with the drippy candles and the cold outside.”

Dr. Ramirez was taking notes furiously now. “And what are your feelings toward Adam over dinner?”

“He’s lovely. Really nice.”

“But at the wine bar, you were worried he was a bit
too
nice.”

“I wasn’t worried – it was just an observation. And now I realize how refreshing it is to be with a guy who doesn’t show off all the time. Adam doesn’t crap on about his job and his car and his money. He’s more interested in me. He wants to know about my life and my opinions on things.”

“You don’t find the questions intrusive?”

“No, not at all. It’s nice to have a two-way conversation. I’ve already decided to go home with him.”

Dr. Ramirez paused, running her pen over the notes she’d just scribbled down. “Are you drinking anything over dinner?”

“We’re sharing a bottle of wine.”

“And I presume you had alcohol back at the wine bar.”

“Two glasses of white,” Stacey confirmed.

“Do you feel drunk?”

“Not drunk. I just feel nice and warm inside.” She had a dreamy look on her face. “I could stay here forever.”

Dr. Ramirez’s eyes narrowed; her concern growing. She stole a nervous glance at Karl, giving him a tight little smile that was meant to be reassuring. But he knew she was thinking the same thing. The perfect date was poised to take a dark turn.              

“Let’s fast forward to the end of your dinner,” Dr. Ramirez suggested.

“Oh, does it have to end?” Stacey asked after a long delay. “It’s so cozy in here.”

“Don’t you want to go home with Adam?”

“Yeah but it’s freezing outside. I can feel it through the window.”

“That’s okay. You’ve got a leather coat with you, you’ll be fine. Now tell me what happens after you leave the restaurant.”

“We walk to his car.”

“I see. And is he parked nearby?”

“Yeah. Just up the road.”

“Can you describe Adam's car?”

“It’s a Jaguar. Dark and sleek. I’m not sure of the model.”

“Does he open the door for you?”

“Yeah. I think he does.”

“And what’s it like inside?” Dr. Ramirez asked. Stacey’s answers had become vague; taciturn. Either the alcohol had affected her memory after a certain point or she wasn’t keen on remembering the latter part of the evening.

“Very comfortable. Soft leather seats. It smells like expensive aftershave.”

“Mm, sounds like a flash car. Stacey, are you still happy to be going home with Adam?”

“…Yes.”

“You seem unsure.”

“No. I’m feeling a bit drowsy, that’s all.”

              “Is it the alcohol?”

“I suppose so. And these seats are really comfortable. I just want to go to sleep.”

“Don’t do that Stacey, not yet. Stay with me a while longer, keep concentrating on my voice. Where does Adam live?”

“The West Hills.”

“And you’re heading there now?”

“Yeah but….” Her voice cut off, her eyelids bunching anxiously.

“Talk to me, Stacey,” Dr. Ramirez said. “What’s happened?”

“He’s just asked about my cat,” Stacey said quickly. “It’s freaking me out because I haven’t mentioned Jasper at all. Now he’s saying it was only a wild guess…but I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. His face is cold, all of a sudden. I’ve asked him to take me home.”

Karl held his breath while Dr. Ramirez asked: “And does he object?”

“No. He’s turned the car around.”

“So he’s driving you home.”

“Yeah.”

Karl and Dr. Ramirez exchanged a worried look. They both knew Stacey hadn’t made it home that night, meaning something unpleasant was about to take place. Dr. Ramirez waited for Karl to give a nod of approval before proceeding. 

“Okay Stacey, you’re doing extremely well. Just remember, whatever happens, you’re completely safe. You’re reliving a memory that seems very real but it’s in the past. Nothing can hurt you now, you understand? Just keep listening to my voice and you’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Stacey said calmly.

“Good. Now I want you to tell me what happens after Adam promises to take you home. Do you remember getting out of the car?”

Stacey’s eyelids bunched again. “No…that’s weird. I can see us heading back towards downtown, but I can’t remember crossing the river.”

“Perhaps you fell asleep,” Dr. Ramirez suggested. “You were feeling tired after dinner.”