"And you haven't been in a long time," Mario said.
Julia shook her head. "You don't know how all-consuming these phobias are. They rob you of emotions. There are times when you feel nothing, no love or hate or anger. No sense of humor, no laughter. I'd see something funny and say to myself, 'That was funny,' and I'd want to laugh, but nothing would come. I didn't even grieve over my grandmother's death, rationalizing that she was in pain and wanted to go, yet she was one of the most important people in my life."
She stopped herself from saying, 'And because of your presence in my life, for the first time in years, I'm happy.'
"I knew fresh air would do you good," Mario said.
"It's not the fresh air," Julia replied, while looking at him.
He held her gaze but said nothing, and Julia knew he was avoiding the invitation she'd given for him to explore her feelings, and maybe it was best he not know how deep they were, and how steadily they continued to grow.
He broke the silence by pointing in the distance, and saying, "Up ahead is a gradual slope. These snowshoes have cleats on them, which helps when climbing, but we'll still use the herringbone, which is walking uphill with our shoes spread out at an angle. I'll go first and break a trail."
"What about coming back down?" Julia asked.
"It's a gradual slope, so basically, we'll be walking downhill in exaggerated steps, sliding on the snow as we go, but if you're uneasy with that, you can slide down on your butt, since the herringbone will make a packed trail."
Julia looked ahead at the slope, a long gradual rise, yet the thought of moving down the slope, no matter how gentle, was disconcerting. During her short experience with group therapy for agoraphobia, one member talked about being on an escalator and suddenly feeling as if he was hundreds of feet high with no way to get off. Another talked about being confused by slopes and irregular surfaces, and feeling desperate to escape to a safe place. Deciding not to chance the things others reported, she said, "I don't have on long johns and the snow's pretty wet, so I'll wait here and watch you go down on your butt."
"You need to push yourself beyond your comfort zone or you'll never get free," Mario said, zeroing in on the crux of it. "I'll hold your arm when we go down, or you can sit in front of me on my legs and we'll go down together that way,"
"You have no idea what you're asking," Julia said. "It's not just the going downhill, it's… other things that are hard to explain." Like why the thought of Mario's arms around her while sitting in front of him was unsettling, something she couldn't explain to herself because he was a man she wanted in her life, and eventually in her bed, if she could overcome the claustrophobia.
"You can't go through life without physical contact," Mario said. "You broke off your engagement because the thought of it made you feel trapped, but it's been twenty years since then and you need to start living again. I saw the way you were with Irina. You want a family, and you could have one."
"Isn't this a little like the pot calling the kettle black?" Julia asked. "You've never married, yet you have a good career and you'd be the perfect husband and father because you'd protect your family. I also saw the way you were with Sergei. So what's your excuse?"
Mario stared at her, the expression on his face telling her she'd touched on a subject he didn't want to discuss, which he affirmed by saying, "This isn't about me. It's about you facing your fears and dealing with them instead of running away from them. Use those affirmations you were talking about, and let's get on up the hill."
Julia glanced back at the imprints left in the snow by their snowshoes. Two sets of wide long tracks moving side-by-side, stretching some distance toward the ranch before curving around a stand of fir that cut off her view of the cabin. She knew it was there, but as she stared at the double imprints in the snow, her mind began stretching the distance, giving the perception that even as she stood stationary, the distance between her and the cabin, her safe haven, was lengthening. Until now, she'd felt no misgiving about being out of sight of the cabin, maybe because she had Mario's arm to hold on to.
"Come on," she heard him say. When she looked back, he was offering his arm for her to take, which she did. But as they gradually approached the slope, he said, "We'll have to go single file now, so do what I do. I'll be compacting the snow some, so it will be easy for you follow. We're only talking about a thirty foot incline."
Julia started to protest but knew it was pointless because Mario wasn't a man who'd back down once he was on a mission, and for reasons she couldn't hope to understand, he'd taken her on as his pity project—the very thing she'd feared most from the moment she saw him again—and he intended to see it through.
It's just a short hill… I can do this… Mario's right ahead of me… he'll keep me safe… I can do this… Julia kept up a steady internal monologue of affirmations, as she followed Mario up the hill, while at the same time, imitating what he'd called herringbone steps, which meant pointing the toes of her snowshoes outward. But about half way up the hill, she started laughing.
Mario glanced over his shoulder. "Please don't tell me I split my pants."
"You didn't," Julia said. "I was just thinking we look like a couple of ducks with oversized webbed feet, waddling up the hill."
Mario laughed. "Hold that thought. You're almost there."
At the top of the slope, which bordered a stand of fir trees with branches heavy with snow, Mario turned around and offered his hand to help Julia up the rest of the way, which she took. "It'll be an easy walk down," he said. "I'll go first and you can follow close behind, and if you feel uneasy, sit down and enjoy the ride. The friction will keep your butt from freezing, but I'll leave it to you to explain the wet pants if we meet someone on the trek back."
Julia laughed, because Mario had a big, silly grin on his face. But on turning around, she froze. What was no more than a five minute gentle uphill climb, stretched downhill for what seemed like miles, and at a slope that appeared straight down, though she knew it was her mind playing tricks on her again. "I can't do it," she said.
"There's nothing to it," Mario replied. "You can sit on my legs. We'll go down together."
Julia backed away from the crest of the slope toward the stand of fir trees with their draping limbs laden with snow. "Give me some time. I need to think," she said, as she continued to back. But when she hit a limb, it was as if her world had been blanketed in white, sheets of intense white that obliterated everything around her, the onslaught shooting adrenaline through her, sending her heart pounding, and her throat constricting, making her breath seem trapped. She started shaking violently, and pain gripped her chest.
Somewhere, far away, she heard Mario's voice, but his words were blocked by sounds in her head, crashing sounds like things falling around her, glass, and beams, and crumbling walls. She tried to scream but there was no sound…
"Julia!"
She was trapped, buried beneath rubble and debris, her arms immobile.
"Julia! Look at me!" Mario's voice was clearer now. "Turn around and look at me."
Somehow, Julia found herself on the ground, surrounded by white, and Mario crouched in front of her. "It's only snow that fell from the trees," he said. "Come on, we're going down."
Confused and disoriented, Julia felt herself being lifted, and before she could break free, she was sitting on Mario's legs and shooting down a hill that seemed to have no end.
CHAPTER 7
On reaching the bottom of the slope, Julia shoved Mario's arms from around her, and said in a frantic voice, "I've got to get to my cabin," then headed back, following the tracks they'd made on the way, her eyes focused straight ahead, her mind filled with images of being buried in snow, and everything white—the sky, the trees, the world around her and everything in it—and then her mind began playing tricks on her, changing blinding white to pitch-blackness and rubble.
She knew Mario was walking beside her, keeping pace with her fast, awkward steps that had her tripping and stumbling
over her snowshoes, but she was in tunnel-vision mode, and at the end of the tunnel was her cabin, her sanctuary, a place where panic attacks didn't happen.
"Look around you," she heard Mario say. "The world is still the same."
"I need to get back," was all she could think to reply. Where the footprints curved around the stand of fir was just ahead, and once around that bend, she'd see the cabin.
"Julia!" Mario's hand gripped her arm. "Slow down and catch your breath."
Julia jerked her arm away and continued her awkward, stumbling, tripping pace that kept her moving closer and closer to the cabin. Shortly ahead was the stand of fir that blocked her view of the cabin. She stumbled and found Mario's hand bracing her elbow. And then the cabin was in view. There were people around too, but they were a blur of bright-colored jackets and woolen hats, and whatever they were doing didn't matter.
Focusing on the door to her cabin, she broke free of Mario's grip and quickened her paces, stumbling once and picking herself up before shoving the cabin door open and rushing inside, where she left a trail of snow across the floor and lowered herself to the couch, then waited for the tightness in her chest to release its grip, and the adrenaline to stop pumping through her body.
Mario stomped the snow off his snowshoes and came in and shut the door. Saying nothing, he removed his snowshoes, then crouched in front of Julia and removed hers too. After tugging off her gloves and helping her off with her jacket, he sat on the couch beside her and stared at the stove with its glow of red embers.
Julia had no idea what was running through his mind, but the one thing she did know, everything she feared most, happened. But it wouldn't happen again, because she intended to stay close to the cabin. After a few minutes of strained silence, she said, "I'm sorry I disappointed you, but I told you in advance it could happen."
To her surprise, Mario reached over and covered her hand with his, and said, "I'm not disappointed. Well, I am in a way. I wanted it to be a positive experience." He looked askance at her. "You do know you have to do it again."
"You can't possibly mean that," Julia said, in an agitated voice. "You have no idea how a panic attack drains a person. I'm exhausted, like I've just run twenty miles."
"Nothing happened to you," Mario said. "You got hit with a blast of snow that was falling from trees. That's all."
"That's all that happened on the outside," Julia said, "but on the inside, I was hit with a white-out blizzard, miles from home, because that's what my mind told me, and that was all it took to send me back to being buried alive and seeing light through the wreckage, and feeling the building shake and the only light cut off, and it's pitch black."
"You were buried in debris and got out," Mario said.
"Only because you dug me out," Julia replied. "If you hadn't come when you did, I wouldn't have survived."
"You don't know that. The building came crashing down around you and you escaped being crushed," Mario said. "If you believe you can overcome this, you will. If you make up your mind you have to live with it, that's the way it will be."
"That's a very simplistic solution to a very complex problem because you're forgetting panic attacks," Julia said. "Ordinary situations can become nightmares. Being in an elevator, riding on a bus, being in a small room, all can trigger intense psychological reactions that block out the logical mind that tells me that in ten seconds the elevator doors will open, or the bus will be stopping in a block, or the room has windows and doors, and instead, I get this overwhelming feeling of impending doom. It can be the most terrifying and humiliating experience imaginable."
"Okay, what's your worst fear?" Mario asked.
"Not having an easy escape," Julia replied. "Wherever I am, I need to be able to get out or get home quickly. This isn't something that can easily be eradicated. Claustrophobia's powerful, uncomfortable, embarrassing, inconvenient, and seriously debilitating at times."
Mario drew in a long, slow breath, and said, "This afternoon I promised Sergei I'd teach him some marble moves, but when we're done, you and I are going to town to pick up some waterproof pants and a waterproof shell for you to wear, and tomorrow we're going up the hill again and shaking some limbs."
"Please don't do this," Julia begged. "I won't sleep at all tonight if I'm facing that again."
"Then don't sleep. Stay up and work on your video games."
"You just don't understand," Julia said in a weary voice, weary because she was still feeling the residual effects of the panic attack, and weary because Mario couldn't let things go.
"No, you don't understand," Mario replied. "It's called desensitization. We'll go back and you'll get doused with snow and you'll survive, and maybe have another panic attack, but it won't be as bad as before, and we'll keep doing it until you're back in the world you once knew."
"In the world I once knew I didn't have images flashing through my mind at super speed of things collapsing around me, as if my synapses had gone haywire and were exploding, or wake up with night sweats, totally drenched, even sweating through my pillow and nightclothes."
"That's exactly my point," Mario said. "We need to get you back to a time when those things didn't happen."
"Why are you so determined to do this?" Julia asked.
"Because, when I leave here, I want to know you'll be okay," Mario replied.
Julia looked down at their hands, still clasped together, and said, "I don't understand why you'd care. Before you came here, we'd only spent six hours together."
"True, but when you think you're going to die with someone, you want to know what's in that person's soul, and in six hours, I knew more about you than I did about the witnesses under my protection, because you were telling me the things people want to talk about when they think they're going to die, things that come from deep inside their souls."
Julia raised her gaze from their hands and looked at Mario. "Then all the questions you were asking… they weren't because you were trying to keep me calm."
"Any dialog between us was to help keep you calm, but if we were going to spend eternity with our bodies crushed together, I wanted to know the true person inside your body."
"I don't understand how you can think that way," Julia said. "When we were trapped, I was so terrified I could barely breathe, yet you remained calm the entire time. It's like you don't have an instinct for survival. How could you not be afraid when you were facing death?"
"I was afraid," Mario said. "I knew there was a strong possibility we wouldn't make it."
"You gave no indication," Julia replied.
"Talking you through it was my way of dealing with it," Mario said.
"But you also risked your life to stay with me when you could have gotten out, and that's what I've never understood," Julia said. "Why would you do that?"
Mario shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's something that goes back to the beginning of time when males protected females in order to insure procreation."
"You never once made me feel like you were there for any other reason than to keep me calm, and offer your assurance that we'd get out. For years after, I thought you might have literally been a guardian angel. You left the scene when you knew I was safe, and I never heard from you again."
Mario let out an ironic laugh. "I guarantee, I'm no angel. And I'll stop there."
Julia looked at him, curiously. "What do you mean?"
"The procreation part. It crossed my mind."
"When we were trapped?" Julia asked.
"I'm a man. Those thoughts insure continuation of the species," Mario replied. "And you felt good against me."
"I wish you hadn't told me that," Julia said. "It makes it awkward now."
"Awkward how? I'd only be half a man if I didn't have those thoughts."
"But we were in the middle of a life or death situation, and it just seemed nobler that you were protecting me because that's the kind of man you are."
Mario laughed. "Being noble isn't one of my strong suits either. But where are
you going with this?"
"I'm just trying to understand you better," Julia said. "Over the years, I guess I made you into the equivalent of a white knight who came to my rescue, and now I'm learning you're as human as the rest, except you seem determined to help me through the minefield of my phobias, and an ordinary man wouldn't want to bother."
Mario laughed wryly. "Then understand this. I'm an ordinary man, no more, no less, and before I'm done, I'll be an ordinary man who's a pain in your butt, because when I leave here, I want to leave knowing you're back in circulation, so tomorrow we'll be practicing some self-defense moves so when I grab you, instead of panicking, you'll either double me over, or do what comes naturally."
Julia wasn't sure how to interpret his words, other than he meant what she'd been wanting but knew she couldn't have, at least not with her current mindset, which was to feel Mario's arms around her and be able to block out everything but being in his arms.
***
As they drove to the farm and ranch store, with Mario at the wheel, to keep her mind off being in a store with rows of shelves and racks of ranch wear and the possibility of having another panic attack, Julia focused on her signing session with Irina earlier that day. She was amazed how fast Irina was picking up signing, and how eager she was to learn. When the time came for the kids to return to foster care, she'd give Irina the signing book and make sure the case worker understood what Irina was capable of doing, so she'd get the special help she needed and not continue to slip through the cracks in the program. But while ruminating over her interaction with Irina, another image filled her mind's eye, that of walking into the lodge a couple of days before and seeing Mario flat on his belly beside Sergei, looking like an overgrown boy playing marbles. "How was your afternoon with Sergei today?" she asked.
"Fun," Mario replied. "I taught him how to play Boss-out, which is one of the oldest marble games around, even played by Augustus, who founded the Roman Empire, so Sergei got a little history lesson as well."
"You played in the lodge?" Julia asked, while picturing Mario on his belly, this time with family and guests watching, most of them a little stunned to see a man who'd previously come across as anything but a kids' man, interacting with a boy who looked up to him with admiration.
Finding Justice (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 12) Page 9
