by Eva Pohler
Chapter Six: The Amphitheater
As Daphne held the knife to her skin, she heard a commotion in her room, and then Cam was at the bathroom door, knocking.
“Daph? I need to pee! Let me in!”
Really?
As she stood up and hid the knife in a drawer, she became aware of how fast her heart was beating and of how badly her hands were trembling, which was weird, because she had thought she was so calm.
“I’m going to piss on myself if you don’t open this door!”
“Okay, okay!” She opened it and flew by him, heading straight for the bed. She didn’t want him to see the state she was in, especially with the bedside lamp flooding the room with light.
That’s when she noticed the front door was open.
“Cam?”
“Yeah?” he said through the bathroom door, which he’d left ajar.
She stepped backwards toward him, keeping her eyes on the open front door. “Why is the door open?”
She heard the toilet flush.
“Huh?” He stepped into the room. “Oh, I thought I was going to have to take a whiz outside.” He closed the front door and locked it. “Sorry. Desperate times, and all that, you know…”
She narrowed her eyes again.
“Look at you!” he said. “You look like a ghost!”
“You keep saying that.” She climbed into bed, avoiding his eyes, and turned off the lamp.
He crawled in next to her. “Come here, Daph. I promise I won’t do anything but hold you.”
His body heat both calmed and excited her as she laid her head on his chest and curled her body up against his. One of his arms was beneath her neck, his hand caressing her arm. He reached over and cupped his other hand to the back of her head in a way that was so comforting that tears formed in her eyes. She closed them and sighed, having been on the verge of hyperventilating, but his hands moving through her hair helped her to slow down her breathing and get a grip.
“Cam I…” she didn’t know what she wanted to say.
He stroked her hair and whispered, “SShh, it’s okay.”
She felt herself melting, her muscles relaxing, the beat of his heart syncing with the beat of hers.
“I’m glad you came to this island with me,” he said softly. “It’s supposed to be fun. I’m sorry it hasn’t been.”
But she was having fun some of the time—more fun than she’d had in years. “I’m glad I came, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s a beautiful place, and fun, too.”
“But?”
She shrugged.
“Daph, don’t you know what a beautiful girl you are? What a sweet, smart person you are?”
Why was he telling her this? Did he have some clue as to what she had tried to do just before he came to the bathroom door? If so, how? Was she giving off some kind of vibe?
“Don’t you know how much your parents and Joey love you, and how much I care about you?”
She stiffened, not sure what to say, but mortified by the thought that he somehow knew. Why else would he say these things? “Quit getting all mushy. If you’re trying to seduce me, it’s not working.”
He laughed and pulled her close against him. “Oh, Daph.”
She kept her head on his chest, catching with one hand the tears that poured from her eyes.
They were quiet for a while, and then Cam said, “No matter how much you cook a Wookie steak, it always comes out Chewy.”
She slapped his chest. “That’s terrible!”
“Made you laugh.”
And it had.
Daphne felt something poking her. She brushed it away.
“Daphne, wake up.”
“Huh?” She opened her eyes to see Cam dressed and leaning over her.
“There’s no boat out today,” he said. “I’m sorry. I thought they came and went every morning, but apparently, they only come twice a week.”
She stretched and stifled a yawn. “So when’s the next one due?”
“Tomorrow.”
She looked at the clock by the bed. It was almost noon. “I gotta pee.” She got up and went to the bathroom.
After she finished using the toilet, she washed her hands and looked at herself in the mirror.
She dried her hands and opened the drawer, where she had hidden the knife. It wasn’t there. She reached her hand into the drawer and felt all around.
The knife was gone. The heat left her bones. Maybe Cam had known.
“I’m hungry,” she said, as she crossed the room to the kitchenette.
“I can take you for lunch.”
She opened the silverware drawer to find all of the knives had been removed. “Cam?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you do something with the kitchen knives?”
“What? Uh-uh. Why?”
She didn’t answer.
“So, you wanna grab a bite?”
She didn’t feel like putting on a happy face in front of other people. “I’ll just fix a sandwich here.”
He came up behind her and turned her to face him. He had a strange look in his eyes, like he was afraid.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He gave her a hug and muttered, “Nothing.” But before he released her, he stuffed a folded piece of paper into her hand and whispered, “Shh. We’re being watched.”
“What?” Her mouth dropped open.
“Shh. Don’t react.” He pulled away. Then he said in a normal volume, “I’ll call you later. You okay hanging out here till dinner?”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m wanted by Dr. Gray.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Daphne didn’t like the look on his face.
“I gotta go. I’ll come by around five to take you to the show.”
“What show?”
“There’s a show at the amphitheater this evening.”
“You don’t seem happy about going.”
He took her in his arms once more and whispered, “They’re listening. I can’t talk now.” He pulled away, gave her a desperate look, and then ran off toward the main building.
She wanted to call out to him, but was afraid. What in the world was going on? She closed and locked her door, her hearting beating fast. When she opened the paper he’d slipped in her hand, the first lines read: Take this with you into the bathroom. It’s the only place in the room they don’t have surveillance.
She looked around before hastening to the bathroom and closing the door. They’ve been watching her? This whole time?
She quickly read the rest of the note: There’s something you need to know. My mom sent me here last summer to try and help me through a difficult time. It worked. I loved it. I’m a volunteer this summer. Your parents sent you here because my mom told them about my experience.
I need you to know that Dr. Gray wants to turn you against me as part of your therapy, so you’ll be less dependent on me. They think I’m falling in love with you, and maybe I am, and maybe I’ve sort of always loved you, and that’s not good for the program. I’m sorry I lied to you. I hope this place helps you like it did me. But things get bad before they get better. Love, Cam.
Daphne read the letter again, overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. Maybe he loved her? Her parents had sent her here? Cam may have meant to clue her in, but his letter further confused her about everything. But things get bad before they get better. This was a warning.
She couldn’t hide out in the bathroom all day, so she eventually tore up the note and flushed it before returning to the striped chair to sip on a soda, self-conscious about her every action. The fact that she was being watched made it impossible for her to relax. Her eyes fell on Hercules slaying the hydra.
So her mother and father had sent her here, she thought again.
She had wanted to die last New Year’s Eve night when she had swallowed all the Prozac (and the Tylenol just to be sure). Brock had given up on her, had said that maybe they needed a break. She ha
dn’t blamed him, really. She couldn’t stand to look at him because she was so ashamed. So ghastly ashamed. How could she live a happy life with Brock when her sister was dead and her brother plagued by voices? It wasn’t fair and it was all her fault. And Brock deserved someone who was allowed to be happy.
When Kara died, her mother had said to Daphne, “You mean you heard and did nothing?” She immediately apologized to Daphne, but the damage had already been done.
Mothers can be so cruel. Daphne wondered whether her mother had sent her to this resort for therapy or punishment. It had to have been her mother’s idea. Her father would never have sent her here. But since Kara’s death, her father had pretty much been a robot, doing whatever her mother said.
If her mother and father were behind this, then maybe she could endure whatever lay ahead. Maybe this was a chance for her to atone for her sins. Then she could die absolved.
By the time Cam called, Daphne had changed into a light summer dress and sandals, another new outfit from her mother. She still didn’t feel like being around others, especially with this new revelation, but she would force herself to carry on. It was time to pay the piper.
As soon as she saw Cam’s face, she knew she was not to refer to the note, so obvious was the warning in his eyes. She kissed him on the cheek to reassure him. She would not allow whoever was watching them to suspect Cam of breaking any rules. Then she recalled what he’d written about loving her, and she felt her face get hot.
“You look beautiful, as always,” he said solemnly.
“You, too.” And he was beautiful, she realized again. One of the most beautiful people she knew. And she was grateful that he was trying to help her, even though this bizarre place creeped her out. She knew he cared for her, and she felt warm and comforted by that knowledge.
Together they walked past the pool and tennis courts in the opposite direction of the beach, past the long string of cabanas and the clearing where the jeeps were parked. They ascended a narrow flight of concrete steps tunneling through rock, too tight for Daphne’s comfort. In a moment they emerged onto a canyon ridge. Below them stretched twenty rows of stadium-style seats carved in the rocky slope of the canyon. Further down was a platform with the other side of the canyon wall as its backdrop. The entire amphitheater looked about fifty yards in diameter, half the size of a football field.
Daphne recognized the twenty or so people already seated in the audience. Hortense Gray sat with Arturo Gomez, Lee Reynolds, Mary Ellen, and Phillip closer to the top of the stadium, but Cam and Daphne didn’t stop to say hello. In the middle were others she recognized, including Roger and some of the waiters from the banquet hall. She was surprised none of the younger crowd was there. Cam led her to the center front, where the stage was eye level.
“You sure you want to sit this close?” Daphne asked.
“It’s not a splash zone or anything. This isn’t Sea World.”
Daphne could tell Cam was still upset, and this made her more frightened of what lay ahead. As they sat on the warm concrete seat with the hot sun beaming down on them, Daphne began to sweat from more than the heat.
Shortly, three people appeared at the right of the stage to the soft, slow chords of string instruments or a recording off-stage. The actors wore hooded white cloaks, concealing their identities. Their feet were bare, and Daphne immediately thought of a cult. As the music escalated, the performers made their way to the center of the stage, their backs to the audience. In the center back of the stage, an altar rose from the platform, probably by some hidden mechanical means. When the altar reached its full height, the music abruptly stopped with one swift boom of a base drum. The three performers turned to face the audience.
The middle actor sang a song of love and loss, to the sound of a piano. Again, Daphne couldn’t tell if it was a recording or a live performance, but she recognized the voice. It was Larry from the caves, and she was surprised by the lovely sound emanating from the burly, crack-showing Chumash Indian. His smooth, low voice, in its melancholy words, made perfect pitch.
He sang:
I cannot stand to see
How I’ve hurt those close to me;
Ribbons of despair run from their eyes, their eyes.
And ribbons of despair run from my eyes, my eyes.
Don’t look at me
Those of you once close to me;
The fire inside you slowly dies, and dies.
And the fire inside me slowly dies, and dies.
Daphne could have written those words, for they described precisely how she felt. In fact, they reminded her of one of her poems. She closed her eyes to stay off any more tears.
After Larry finished his song, and after the brief applause from the audience, he said, “Bring Limuw forward.”
Two more figures, also in white and hooded, carried a stretcher from the opposite side of the stage, and Daphne wondered by their shape and size if they might be Dave and Vince. On the stretcher lay a girl about Daphne’s age. Her eyes were closed, her arms crossed over her chest, as though she were dead. She wore the same white cloak as the others on stage. For a moment, Daphne had the strange feeling the girl was, in fact, dead.
One of the original three performers stepped forward and sang another song, but it was in another language, and, anyway, Daphne could no longer hear the words. She stared at the girl, anxious to see some sign that she was alive.
The cloaked figures laid the stretcher out on the altar.
The base drum beat steadily to the human voices as they joined the other singer.
Then Larry, with his face still concealed by the hood, stepped forward and said, “This is Limuw. She has taken her life, and our prayers are to Hutash. Hutash agrees it is not yet Limuw’s time. She has given us a ritual to bring Limuw back to life.”
Daphne was shocked to see the five performers each pull a pair of scissors from their robes and cut the bright red hair of the girl on the altar. They cut it down to her scalp and then used electric razors to shave her head, arms, and legs. Surely the girl on the altar was an actress and a willing part of the performance and not the girl Daphne had seen running near the grotto.
As the string instruments played a slow and haunting melody, the five cloaked performers rubbed oil and laid long strips of white cloth on her body and sang a second song in Chumash. Toward the end of the song, the girl opened her eyes. She sat up, stared in horror at the audience, rubbed her bald head, and shrieked.
“My hair! What have you done?”
The five actors knelt in front of her as she stood from the altar.
Then Larry said, “Limuw has risen from the dead. You were dead and now you are alive again.”
A new melody rang through the amphitheater, this time uplifting, but the woman playing Limuw continued to look confused. Thinking she was either an excellent actress or a victim of a strange ritual, Daphne shivered in the blazing sun and began to feel faint. When the melody ended, the five figures each put a hand on Limuw, and the members of the audience applauded. Many of them gave a standing ovation, and nearly all had tears in their eyes. Before the applause came to an end, the five performers escorted Limuw backstage behind a building of stacked stones, where the orchestra or the sound system must have been.
“That was different,” Daphne said.
Cam stood and took her hand. “Let’s go to dinner.” As they walked up the stadium-style seats he added, “This might be hard for you to believe: Everybody in the audience this evening but you has played the role of Limuw.”
“You’re kidding! Even you?”
“Last summer. It was awesome.”
“Well, I’m not doing it.”
“No one wants to, but everyone’s always glad they did.”
“Not me.” She couldn’t imagine why any of them would be glad about having their head shaved.
Then a chill made goose bumps appear on her arms as she recalled the bald woman on the pier at Prisoners Harbor. Maybe it hadn’t been chemotherapy. Mayb
e she’d been Limuw. And maybe the way she had grabbed Daphne’s wrist and had given Daphne that strange look had been an attempt to warn her.
Daphne crossed her arms in front of her chest as Cam led her away from the amphitheater.
They reached the canyon ridge and followed the narrow steps back down to the main part of the resort. As they passed the jeeps, Cam said, “Some of the others are doing another exercise with Limuw right now. It’s the best part. I’m supposed to be there, too, but I didn’t want to leave you alone.”
“Why can’t I go with you?”
“First you have to be Limuw.”
“That’s not happening. Cam, seriously. How could getting your body hair shaved off be a rewarding experience?”
“You’ll see.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
When Cam said nothing more, she asked, “They won’t force me, will they?”
“I don’t think so. They don’t do it until the end of—” he stopped, looking past her. “We’ll talk later.”
Daphne looked around but saw no one close enough to overhear them. Then she realized, as they walked through the grounds, that there could be surveillance cameras hidden in the nearby buildings.
After an uneventful dinner, Cam asked her to walk down to the beach with him.
Far off to their right, the sun was setting, and at the top of the wooden steps, Daphne stopped to take in the beauty. Whatever else the resort was for the people who came here, it was first and foremost a beautiful place that brought much pleasure. Daphne suspected this was an important part of the resort’s therapeutic qualities. She and Cam followed the boardwalk down to the sand, where they abandoned their shoes and strolled to the edge of the water. One other couple sat together in the sand by the hill of poppies and a lone woman stood at the top of the chalky bluffs gazing out to sea.
“They can still see us down here, but they can’t hear what we’re saying.” Cam faced the sea.
The sun nearly touched the horizon and sank further by the minute. Orange hues reflected on the graceful waves. The wind was less violent down here near the water than it had been on the boardwalk.
“So my mother put me up to this? She set me up? And my dad?”
Cam nodded. “They’ve been worried about you.”
Daphne hadn’t looked her parents in the eye in months. It had been just like the words in Larry’s song. “How did you find out about this place?”
“My mom knows someone who knows someone who knows Dr. Gray. I’m sorry I lied to you. I was told it was necessary to your therapy.”
“I don’t see how lying can ever be a good thing.”
Cam said nothing.
As they continued down the beach toward the sunset and the chalky bluffs, Daphne asked, “So what was your rough time? Did you try to, you know...”
“No, but I came close. I guess I wasn’t as brave as you.”
Daphne sucked in her lips. It hadn’t been bravery.
“I wasn’t dealt as tough a hand as you,” he said. “I never told you this, but I got into drugs and failed my first semester of college. My step-dad cut me off, even though the money comes from my mom. She supported his decision. I had nothing—no one, no friends, no job, no life.”
“What about me?”
“Kara had just died the year before. I didn’t want to bring you down again.”
“Cam…”
“Anyway, it was a hard time. I finally agreed to go to rehab. This place was part of it. It made me realize how much I wanted to live, and how great life can be if you let it.”
“I knew it. Getting trapped in the elevator and the cave, those things were therapeutic exercises, weren’t they?”
He nodded. Then he faced her. “You have to admit they were exhilarating, like a roller-coaster ride.”
It had all been creepy, but now that she knew for sure that she’d never been in any real danger, she was filled with relief. “I’m not much into roller-coasters.” She gave him a smile. “But if this place helped you, then it can’t be all bad.”
“Then you’re not angry at me?”
She shook her head.
“The whole bit in the valley with the woman being raped and killed was part of it too.”
Daphne knew it. It had been a cruel trick, but she was glad it hadn’t been real.
His smile quickly became a frown. “After tonight, Dr. Gray doesn’t want me to interfere with your progress. She’s putting distance between us.”
“I don’t like that.” She grabbed his hand and filled with anxiety. “What are they going to do to me?”
“Trust me, Daph. Do you trust me?”
She nodded.
“It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”
Then she asked, “Was Stan in on the elevator incident?”
“No. He doesn’t know it yet, but someone has sent him here, too.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
So Stan was a patient like her. “I suppose it has been fun,” she said, which wasn’t a lie. This was a major gesture on her parents’ part. A lump formed in her throat. “But I’m scared.”
“And excited?”
“I guess so. Yes.” She had to admit she’d felt more alive the past two days than she had the past two years.
“It gets better.”
“I won’t be Limuw, though. I’d like to keep my hair.”
“Okay, but it does grow back. It’s just hair.”
“What’s the point?”
“It’s not why, but what.”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It has to do with living life to the fullest. It’s about what life has to offer, and not why it does or does not offer certain things.”
“And you have to be bald to do that?”
“It’s symbolic. It gives you the chance to start over.”
“I don’t need to be bald to do that.”
“Starting over isn’t easy. Letting go is hard.”
“Yeah.” She leaned over and picked up a sand dollar, perfect except for one chipped edge.
“Sometimes it’s hard to forgive yourself. Sometimes it takes something really dramatic and painful to help you let go of your mistakes.”
She threw the sand dollar as far out to sea as she was able. “I guess.”
“This place has another name.” Cam stopped and put his hands on her shoulders, his eyes intently looking into hers.
“What?”
“The Purgatorium. Don’t let on you know.”
Daphne didn’t know what to say, but sometimes when you’re burdened with deep thoughts, the only thing left to do is to be ridiculous, so, after a moment, she said, “Let’s go for a swim.”
“Now? Here?”
“Why not?”
“In our clothes?”
“Strip down to your underwear. I don’t care who’s watching. Come on!” She pulled off her dress and ran out until the water reached her waist, then she dived in and swam a few strokes, feeling refreshed and revived.
Cam was close behind her. She turned to him and threw herself on him, dunking him under. They laughed and played together like they had the day she arrived.
That night, Cam didn’t stay long, so she showered and put on her night shirt and lay in bed, thinking of everything she’d been told. She still couldn’t believe her parents had sent her here. Maybe they really did want her to live.
Her thoughts eventually drifted to Cam, how much she liked him. He’d been her best friend forever, and now he admitted that he might be in love with her. Could she ever feel the same way about him?
As soon as she considered the possibility, her heart longed for Brock.
The first time she and Brock kissed was the week after his mother died. His mother had fought a five-year long battle with breast cancer and lost. Brock was an only child and was close to his mother. His father had left before the cancer, had moved to Philadelphia and had started another life that didn’t include B
rock.
Daphne saw the hurt in Brock’s eyes when he came up to her in the parking lot after swim practice in early March her junior year. She didn’t know what to say, so she stood there, listening.
“You should have seen her,” Brock said. “She looked good.”
“She was a beautiful woman. I’m sorry I didn’t go to the funeral.”
“It’s okay. I was in a daze anyway.”
“How are you now?”
“Still in a daze.” He sort of laughed.
“Wanna grab a bite to eat together?” Daphne couldn’t believe she had asked him on a date. The invitation sort of blurted out of her mouth without her realizing it.
“Sure.”
Later, when he walked her to her door, she took him in her arms for a hug and felt him shudder, felt him lose himself. He cried, the hurt little boy that he was, even as his trembling hands reached for her face. Daphne was helping him to let go of the past by starting something new. She did it for him without realizing she would eventually have to hurt him.
