Waking Elizabeth (13 page)

“I’m
a factualist, Ellie.
 
I deal in
historical facts all day long.
 
My job
depends on it.
 
But there are some things
that can’t be explained by conventional knowledge and beliefs.
 
And you tell me, what other evidence is there
for the things that you know and what you are able to do?”

I
shook my head, “There has to be something.
 
You of all people I suspected would laugh me out of the car.”

“Who
have you told?
 
How many opinions have
you gotten?” he pressed on.

“None!”
was he insane?
 
Who on earth would I share this with?
 
“I’ve told Jess, my crazy roommate Geoff that
made my itinerary and you.”

“Can
I take you somewhere to see someone who might be able to offer you some advice?”

I
was still so baffled by his nonchalant reaction to my story that I was
practically speechless, “Um, yes.
 
I
guess.
 
Who?
 
You’re not taking me to some mental ward are
you?”

He
suppressed a laugh, “Of course not.
 
You’ve entrusted me with some very private information that I begged you
to divulge.
 
I told you already that you
can trust me, and you can.
 
I won’t
betray your trust, you have my word.”
 
He
quickly checked his watch before reaching for his phone and dialing a
number.
 
“Hi.
 
Do you have a half hour to meet someone?
 
We can be there at 4:30.
 
Yes, she’s agreed to come.”

I
gave him a strange look after hearing his side of the conversation.
 
She’s
agreed to come?
 
What did that mean?
 
When he
hung up the phone I gave him a look that clearly meant I was waiting for him to
explain himself.

“I
might have mentioned you to someone yesterday.
 
He already knew a tad about you,” Ronan gave me a guilty grin.

“Is
this a psychologist?
 
And you knew after
meeting me for 6 hours that I needed one?”

“Not
a psychologist, not a mental ward,” he chuckled and raised my hand to his lips,
placing a chivalrous kiss there.
 
“He’s a
doctor with a specialty, but I’ve doubt you’ve ever heard of it before.”

“And
you know him well enough to make a call and have us an appointment in thirty
minutes?”

Ronan
shrugged, “I’m a special client of his, you could say.”

“He’s
your doctor?”

“One
of them, yes.”

“Wow,
maybe I should be the one diving out of the car.
 
Who’s being evasive now?” I asked, my eyes
narrowing towards his.
 
He seemed so much
more at ease now that I’d told him.
 
And
if the truth be told, so was I.
 
I felt
like a thousand pounds had been lifted from my shoulders.
 
Maybe I was just relieved he was still here
and had taken it so well.
 
Or maybe I was
just thankful to share the burden of such a strange revelation with someone who
knew so much about her.
 

As
if he were reading my mind he asked me, “Do you feel better?”

I
couldn’t lie, I did.
 
He could probably
see it all over my face, “I do.
 
Thank
you for not jumping from the car and treating me like a crazy person.”

“I
don’t judge,” he lifted my hand and pressed it against his chest before hitting
the call button in the back of our car and giving the driver an address, “I
haven’t asked much about your personal life, but what manner of man would jump
from a moving car after receiving odd news?”

“Not
you, apparently,” I smiled.

He
grinned, his eyes gleaming, “No, not me.”

Chapter
14

T
hirty minutes later
we arrived at a very modern office complex where Ronan ushered me inside a door
with frosted glass that read, Dr. Avery Cross.
 
The sterile waiting room was black and chrome, everything matching and
was in the perfect place.
 
There wasn’t a
magazine that wasn’t symmetrically lined up with the outer edge of the table.

“This
is your doctor’s office?” I asked hesitantly.
 
There was no one else in the lobby, no screaming kids, no uptight adults
and no sign in book.

“One
of them,” he grinned.

“Do
you have some sort of medical condition that I need to be aware of?”

He
gave me a sexy smirk, “No.
 
Not
necessarily medical …” He trailed off, leaving me with the question of what the
hell that meant.
 
Not necessarily
medical?
 
Before I could ask him we were
interrupted by a young receptionist.

“Good
afternoon Mr. Sutton,” she smiled at us, “Dr. Cross is expecting you and your
guest.”

The
pretty blonde opened the door for us and Ronan thanked her as we walked down
another gray colored hallway towards a back office.
 
Once there, he knocked on the wall outside a
wood door, “Avery?”

“Yes,
yes.
 
Come in!
 
Ronan, I’m thrilled to see you.”
 
Avery Cross was dressed in a dark gray suit
with a starched white shirt and a black tie.
 
His clothes even matched the office.
 
He was a middle aged man, appeared to be in great shape and I noticed
that he was not wearing the general doctor attire of a white coat and
stethoscope.
 
I also immediately noticed
a lounge chair in the middle of the room.
 
It’s the one that you lay on and pour out your feelings to your
counselor who takes notes and then prescribes you the latest and greatest
antidepressant.
 

“Avery,
this is Ellie Regan.
 
I spoke to you
about her on the phone yesterday.”
 
At
Ronan’s introduction I shyly offered Dr. Cross my hand.

“Ellie.
 
It’s a pleasure to meet you.
 
Come, have a seat,” he motioned towards the
lounger and I groaned inwardly.
 
Taking a
seat nervously on the edge I looked up at him, “So, you are a ?”

“I’m
a psychotherapist.
 
I specialize in
integrative medicine with a different approach than most doctors.”

“What
does that mean?” I pushed, unable to dissect his medical terms.

“It
means that I talk to people, help them figure out things that are difficult for
them to comprehend.
 
I help people walk
through the process of finding out more about themselves, if they are willing
to make the leap.”

“I’m
not sick,” I stated bluntly, feeling the need to get that off my chest, “I’m
not sure what Ronan told you but I feel fine.”

“Most
of the people I talk to are not sick at all,” Cross smiled and relaxed in his
oversized leather chair.

“I
just thought maybe you could tell him what you told me.
 
He has some experience in this already, so I
thought if you had questions you could ask,” Ronan patted my leg from his own
chair, “I can leave the room if you want.
 
Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“No,”
I answered quickly, “You brought me here, you stay.”

Ronan
smiled, “Okay, I’ll stay.”

“I
can’t believe I’m sitting in this office due to a crazy story some kooky gypsy
told me in New York.”

“You’ve
been to a fortune teller?” Dr. Cross asked me, opening his notebook.

“If
you can call her that.
 
She’s retired, so
she didn’t charge me.
 
I was there with
some friends.
 
She saw me in the street
walking alone and invited me over.
 
I
didn’t want to go but she caught my attention with something she said … so I
went.”

“What
did she say?”

“She
called to me across the street and asked me if I was a dancer.”

“Are
you?”

“Yes.
 
But it just intrigued me that she knew
that.
 
It was strange.
 
I had nothing else to do so I walked over to
her, and then it all just started from there.”

“Go
on,” Dr. Cross urged, still writing in his notebook in between short glances
above his wired rim glasses.

I
retold my story just as I did in the car with Ronan, watching carefully for any
kind of response from the doctor of which, I received none.
 
He acted like it was the most normal thing in
the world.
 

“I
hope you don’t mind, but Ronan told me you had a strange reaction yesterday
when you put on Elizabeth’s ring.
 
Can
you describe what happened?”
 
Dr. Cross
pulled off his glasses and laid them on the table next to him.
 
Ronan sat up a little straighter in his seat
awaiting my response.
 

I
closed my eyes and tried to remember, “I was in a room, it was warm, there was
a fire going and people walking around.
 
I had a heavy dress on, it was gold, I could even see the sleeves.
 
Someone had just given me the ring, the same
ring that Ronan has in his office.
 
It
was on my hand and it was brand new, not faded and dinged like it is now.
 
I could see the diamonds and rubies sparkling
around the room.”

“In
your vision, how did you feel wearing it?” I heard the doctor’s voice.

“Elated.
 
Like it was something I was waiting for.
 
Something special.”

“And
your other visions, are they always in first person?
 
Like you are in her body looking out?”

“Yes,”
my eyes were still closed, “I’ve had several.
 
Under the tree when she heard she was queen, the ring, being led into
the tower from traitors gate and then being prisoner there in the Bell Tower.”

“Do
you feel panicked when you have these visions, like you don’t have control?”

“Sometimes.”

There
was silence in the room and I opened my eyes to find Dr. Cross writing in his
notebook, “Ellie, if you would agree, I would like to use hypnotherapy on you
in order to draw out some repressed memories you may or may not have.”

I
looked at Ronan, “You want to hypnotize me?”

“Yes.
 
It’s not anything evasive.
 
You simply relax and I ask you some simple
questions.”

I
shook my head, “I don’t know.
 
I’m still
not buying into all this.”

Dr.
Cross smiled at me, “I completely understand.
 
And I think it’s important to remember that no matter who you were in a
past life, you are still 100% who you are today.
 
The feelings and memories you have of your
life before in no way take away from the life you have built for yourself
today.
 
It’s this element that I find
most people struggle with.
 
Those that
suffer the most tend to not have a fulfilling life today and tend to gravitate
towards who they use to be.
 
They think
that maybe if they lived life as that person, their life would be better, or
different.
 
It takes a strong person to
be able to do both.
 
To live your life,
as Ellie Regan as you are now, all while having the strong memories of your life
as Elizabeth.”

“You
say that like you’re telling me my height and weight.
 
Do you know how ludicrous it sounds to be told
you are the reincarnation of Queen Elizabeth?
 
It sounds crazy!”

Ronan
took my hand, “Ellie, no one is telling you who you are.
 
You
know
who you are.
 
What she is showing you is
who you
were
.
 
And there is nothing wrong with it.
 
There are worse people to be, I might add.”

“I
know, Eva Braun, right?” I was attempting to add some humor to this utterly
strange situation.

“Eva’s
already taken, I saw her last Monday,” Dr. Cross chimed in.

I
raised my eyes to him, my mouth open in shock, “Seriously?”

“No,
I’m kidding.
 
I did see a woman a few
weeks ago who believes she’s Joan of Arc,” I looked back and forth between
Ronan and Dr. Cross, not entirely sure of what to make of his last comment and
wondering if I had officially gone to crazy town.
 

“Oh,
well … good.
 
Joan of Arc … I guess I’m
in good hands then,” I shrugged, “This all seems a little laughable to me.”

“Ellie,
you could go the rest of your life without thinking a thing about her.
 
When the visions come you could easily just
shut them out.
 
That’s your choice to
make.
 
But if you would like to delve
deeper into figuring out why you have certain reactions to things or places or
people,” Dr. Cross looked over at Ronan as he made this statement, “then I can
teach you how to do that.
 
If you want to
know more, I can give you the tools to make that happen.
 
If you don’t, you certainly aren’t required
to.”

“You
seemed to be struggling with all this, that’s the only reason I brought you
here,” Ronan added.

“I’m
sure there are some doctor / patient rules I’m breaking here, but since we are
in this little circle of trust, why do
you
come here?” I asked Ronan pointedly which instantly made him uncomfortable and
he looked to Dr. Cross for help.

“You
haven’t told her?” Dr. Cross asked Ronan.

“Told
me what?” I looked back and forth between the two of them, suddenly feeling
outnumbered.
 

“I’ve
come here for several years to work through some of my own … visions.
 
I trust him completely which is why I brought
you.
 
Maybe you should think about it
tonight and if you’re up to it, we could schedule some time tomorrow for you to
come back?”

He
was changing the subject but I didn’t care too much at that point since I was
relieved I would not be forced on the spot into some trance and spill my inner
most secrets.
 
“Yes.
 
I can do that.
 
Let me think about all this tonight.”

“Easily
done,” Dr. Cross stood up, “I’m here to help, not to force you into anything.”

I
stood up and reached for my bag, the pressure somewhat alleviated, “Thank you
for taking the time to see me.
 
I do
appreciate your insightful comments.
 
I’ll sleep on it and let you know tomorrow.
 
By the way, how many people do you see that
have this little … condition?”

“All
in all, through the years … 500 or so.”

“500!”
I was floored.

“And
that’s just the ones that seek answers.
 
Think of all the people out there like yourself that have these thoughts
and don’t see a gypsy in New York or people like me that can help them work
through their visions.”

“The
Gypsy conjured up all this stuff and then left me to deal with it,” I shrugged,
“I always thought they were shifty anyway.
 
I never thought to take anything she said seriously.”

Dr.
Cross was walking Ronan and I to the door when he replied, “There are certainly
a large number of fortune tellers who are fakes.
 
But there are some people in that line of
work that have a gift.
 
It would seem to
me that this Mona person, gypsy or otherwise, did have some sort of gift that
brought about these recollections.
 
Just
think it over tonight.
 
There are several
ways to proceed with an additional tactics on regression.
 
Hypnotherapy is just one of them.”

Ronan
reached for Dr. Cross’ hand, “Thank you Avery.
 
I appreciate you seeing us on such short notice.”

“No
problem.
 
You know how to reach me.”

The
door closed behind us and Ronan and I walked through the lobby and into our
waiting car.
 
Ronan immediately turned to
me and asked hesitantly, “Angry with me?”

“No.
 
I’m still not sure how I feel about all
this.
 
You seem to be taking it better
than I am, which leads to my next question.
 
Why do you see Dr. Cross?” there was no way I was letting him escape an
answer this time.