The Evolutionist

by Rena Mason

  “You’re welcome,” Cally says. “I knew you guys would like these.”

  “Excellent idea. Thank you,” Jordan says.

  “Thank you,” I tell her. “This fabric is really nice.”

  “It’s hand-spun silk,” Cally says. “They were dip-dyed by hand, too.”

  I take mine out of the bag and wrap it around my neck. It’s cool to the touch and dyed in soft shades of blue—very calming.

  “Beautiful,” Jordan says. Hers is red, which is perfect—fiery.

  Tara’s is orange—spicy.

  Cally wanders off then comes back to the family room with a purple one wrapped around her hip—regal.

  “Hey, that’s a good idea,” Tara says.

  Looking around the room, I can’t help thinking about how much we suddenly resemble an aged, Eighties all-girl band. It makes me laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Cally says.

  “Nothing. I’m just tired.” I rise from the couch.

  “No. Don’t go.”

  “Besides, I’ve got to talk to Jon about the show. I haven’t said anything to him yet.”

  “Oh, no,” Jordan says. “You don’t think he’d not agree to do it, do you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then you better go and talk to him right now,” Tara says. “I want everything ready to go as soon as we hear from them again.”

  “Don’t worry, guys. You all know Jon. He’ll be perfectly fine with it.”

  “You’re right,” Cally says. “But you should talk with him.” She stands and waits for me to get up. Then she walks me to the door.

  “Thanks again for the gifts.”

  “No worries. You just get some rest, and make sure you talk to Jon. I know this week’s going to be insane, but call me.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  Their obsession with this show has been both a curse and a godsend. It’s great because they are totally preoccupied, and it maintains their focus away from me. It’s bad only if it comes to fruition. Either way, I have to talk to Jon about it before he finds out from one of them.

  * * *

  I get ready for bed then take one of the Valiums and turn out the light in the bathroom. When I’ve finished Dr. Light’s mental exercises, Jon comes into the bedroom.

  “How’d it go?” he says.

  “What?”

  “The review.”

  “Oh. We didn’t talk about the book.”

  “I knew it. It’s just another excuse for you to get together with the girls and gossip.”

  “No. Normally, we do talk about the books. It’s just that they’re excited about this show they might get on.”

  “You mean that Housewives show?”

  “Yeah, how’d you…?”

  “Bill told me about it at the game. He doesn’t think they’ll get it. Stiff competition from Green Valley, I guess. He didn’t seem worried.”

  “Really? But Cally is so excited.”

  “Maybe he didn’t tell her.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, if she’s that excited, he probably doesn’t want to let her down.”

  “Still, I don’t think that’s right.”

  “I don’t either, but it’s none of our business.”

  “You wouldn’t hide something like that from me, would you?”

  “No. Would you?”

  “No.”

  He kisses me then turns out the light. I’m a liar, and I think he knows it, but I can’t say anything yet. Maybe when it’s all over and everything is okay, I will tell him what happened. We can look back on it one day and laugh. Right now, I’m not so sure if it’s me that really feels this way or the Valium. Like the other night when I took one before the party. I wonder if Valium has hallucinogenic effects.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Through the nighttime hours when sleep comes to most people, I waited, and it never came for me. There were no nightmares, no lights, or bell tones. I spent most of the time contemplating the possible relationship between all of the craziness, then got out of bed this morning with no definitive answers. I also thought of Dr. Light and his wide-eyed hypnosis obsession. I dwelled on his comment about hypnosis being the key that could unlock the mysteries in my head. I worried my mind might know about his plan, be afraid, and produce the worst nightmare ever. I’m glad it didn’t happen, and although the quiet night would have been cherished by most people in my condition, it left with me with only more unease—wondering why I was granted a reprieve. I wanted my thoughts clear for today, and despite the lack of sleep, there is some unexplained, newfound energy. I feel abuzz.

  Jon comes into the bathroom with morning coffee and sets it on the counter next to me.

  “Thanks.”

  He smiles then leans against the wall with his arms crossed. He appears a little tense.

  “What is it?” I say.

  “You still seeing that psychiatrist?”

  “Yeah. Why?” I turn around. He has my full attention.

  “Just wondering. It’s nothing bad, really. Actually, it’s good you’re talking with someone. You haven’t had any nightmares in a few days, and that’s a good thing.”

  “Jon, please. I can tell something’s on your mind. What is it?”

  He exhales loudly. “Our marriage hasn’t come up, has it?”

  “What? No.”

  “Not that I’m worried, I mean, but sometimes it comes up, and I’d hope that you’d talk to me about it first, if there are problems.”

  I get up from the bench, walk over, and wrap my arms around him. “Of course I would, but there’s nothing to talk about. You’re one of the only normal things keeping me together.”

  “I’m good with that.” He kisses my forehead. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “You’d be fine.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “I am. You’d better go now, or you’ll be late.”

  “Love you,” he says.

  “Love you, too. Have a good day. And Jon…”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t ever worry about us.”

  He smiles then leaves.

  * * *

  After Patrick’s drop off, I stop for some coffee then head straight for Dr. Light’s office. I’m sure an hour will not be enough time to say, ask, and tell, everything I must. God, I hope he is really Dr. Light this morning and not the monster I thought I saw lurking in the hallways at the party. Of course he isn’t—what a ridiculous thought. Apparently, it is more difficult for me to admit I’m crazy than imagine that he’s some monster. This is a dilemma. I need him—and I need to keep my head together, so he can help me figure out what’s wrong with it.

  Traffic is slow moving along the beltway, giving me time to organize my thoughts. During complete stops, I look out across the valley—distracted by the landscape. Nine years ago, this same drive was flanked by barren desert. A multitude of housing developments have filled in the empty space, many with homes available for purchase—entire neighborhoods waiting to be sold.

  The desert stalks silent in the background—slowly creeping—it will inevitably retake its claim. Above ground, it appears lifeless other than the occasional Joshua tree and desert bramble, but under the surface it is teeming with organisms and underground rivers where species of fish exist nowhere else on Earth. Life clinging to the edge of survival in a hostile environment, and yet, it does. Desert is a quiet force compared to the ocean, but it’s still a force. Something about it reminds me of my nightmares, like it’s trying to tell me something, wants me to See. Maybe I am the only one that will be left in the end, struggling to exist.

  A whirlwind of dust picks up in a vacant lot and spins sand across a roadway toward several houses. That is how the desert will take back what belongs to it—with dust devils—thousands of grains at a time.

  Lost once more in random solitude while driving, I’m suddenly in front of Dr. Light’s building again with no idea how I got here. These blank memory lapses can’t
be safe, but I have never been in an accident.

  From the entryway, I follow the larger rusty vein in the marble floor to his office. It seems to remain constant, while the other branches appear to change place whenever I look down and take notice. Nature is truly amazing in what it is capable of creating.

  “Stacy. How are you this morning?”

  My heart stops. Dr. Light is standing in the doorway waiting. Strange, I don’t remember knocking. I can’t look him in the eyes. I feel myself begin to tremble. I have to stop before I turn around and run out of here. Remember…you need him. I take in a deep breath, look up into his eyes. “I’m okay. Sort of…” They are big, black, and vacuous, but normal for him, like they’ve always been. I exhale with relief. “I’ve got a lot to talk about this morning.”

  “Good. Let’s head back to my office.”

  He doesn’t look anything like the monster I saw at the hospital cocktail party. I’m almost embarrassed to ask. I follow several steps behind him, unable to shake a sense of déjà vu. Everything is exactly as it was the first day I came. Even his clothes, they’re always the same.

  “Dr. Light, before I forget. Were you at the Red Rock Hospital mixer Saturday night?”

  He stops dead in his tracks and I behind him. Please, oh please…don’t turn around and be the monster.

  “No,” he says, without looking back. “I was on call Saturday at the University Hospital. Most of my night was spent treating a suicide patient.”

  Another sigh of relief escapes me. “I could’ve sworn I saw you.”

  “Perhaps it was a doppelganger.” He turns to open his door then looks back at me and smiles.

  I clench my fists to prevent a shudder. His smile is unnerving, unnatural, like it hurts him.

  “Come in,” he says. “Let’s begin.”

  I cautiously step in, then walk directly to the chaise and lie down. For the life of me, I can’t seem to gather my thoughts or remember what it was I needed to talk about. Maybe the extra coffee stop wasn’t such a good idea.

  “I’d like to try the hypnosis,” is the only thing I can think to say.

  “Excellent.” He drags his chair over and positions himself behind my head.

  When I look up, his eyes are all I see. Large hypnotic pinwheels that they are, I’m halfway entranced already.

  “Wait. You’re going to start right now?” I say.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re a hypnotist, too?”

  “Hypnotherapy is one of my specialties.”

  “But…I’m not ready.”

  “Stacy, there’s nothing to fear. Soon you’ll be able to see.”

  “Wait. What was that?”

  He puts his hands on either side of my head and holds them firmly in place. “Be still. Take a deep breath. Close your eyes. If you’re frightened, imagine me with you.”

  I already do. His touch is soothing, his voice euphonic. I close my eyes and listen.

  “Good,” he whispers. “Now relax and breathe. Listen to the sound of my voice, concentrate. As you listen to the sound of my voice, I want your body to sink deeper into relaxation. Visualize yourself from head to toe in the color red. Then visualize my words moving in small blue ripples that slowly and gently pass through my fingertips and enter your head. They push the red out through your toes and leave behind their blue.”

  His hands turn frigid. It stings and spreads like brain freeze. “It’s cold.”

  “No matter what you feel, your eyes will remain closed until you hear me count the numbers one-two-three in that exact procession. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is the blue now?”

  “My neck.” I gulp, fearing saliva could freeze in the middle of my throat. “Can’t breathe.”

  “Relax. You can breathe just fine. Slow it down. Inhale through your nose.”

  “My chest.” I feel naked in the middle of Antarctica. Every breath is a chore, inhaling sharp crystals of ice. Stabbing cold from the inside out.

  “You’re doing well, Stacy. The blue relaxes your muscles, makes them feel heavy.”

  Numb, too. By the time the Arctic chill reaches my ankles I’m nearly paralyzed. The last bit of red passes through my toes. I wiggle them one last time.

  Explosive shrills penetrate the blue in thousands of arrows. I’m like an ice sheet cracking apart. My body shakes uncontrollably.

  “Stop.” The word comes through my gnashed teeth.

  “Take a deep breath. Relax.”

  The violent tremors fade, but the piercing squeals go up and down as if my head were a radio trying to tune into a station. Then it finally finds a channel and settles. I hear the bell chimes from a distance, but they’re not really bells. They sound electronic, like the tones in my dream.

  “There’s music,” I say.

  “Yes. Music. Does it bother you?”

  “No. It’s familiar.”

  “Good. Now I want you to think about the visions you’ve had recently. As you go through these visions, I want you to find the earliest past life experience you can remember. Visualize it, describe it to me. Continue listening to the sound of my voice, and picture it moving in blue ripples through you. Every one that passes relaxes you deeper, still.”

  “I’m playing hide and seek with the other children.”

  “Stacy, describe the memory to me as if you were watching a movie. You’re not a participant, you’re merely an observer. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now continue. What do you see?”

  “Stone walls, big columns, and long billowing fabric.”

  “Where do you think you are?”

  “Egypt.”

  “No. Look again. What do you see on the walls?”

  “Linear shadows.”

  “Reach out and touch one.”

  “It feels like sand. There are some pictographs.”

  “You’re in early Sumer.”

  “Sumer?”

  “One of man’s earliest civilizations.”

  “I don’t know…Sumer, but something tells me you’re right. I think it’s the tones.”

  “Yes, the tones. Listen to them. Comprehend what they tell you. What do you see now?”

  “I’m running down a dimly lit corridor then suddenly, I stop. There’s darkness beyond a doorway ahead. I don’t want to go inside.”

  “Don’t be afraid. Remember you’re only watching this girl from a distance. Picture her in front of you, and follow her in.”

  “The little girl likes to hide in here. It’s a cool and dry place. Little shell-shaped lamps sit on ledges everywhere in the room. The dim light flickers, and long shadows dance on the walls. Golden statues rest on shelves that have been carved out of stone.”

  “Yes. What else?”

  “More of the pictographs, symbols.”

  “It’s their written language.”

  “Tiny orbs of light whiz by. They flit all around us. They fly through her hair and dance around her head. She’s not scared of them, though. She knows what they are.”

  “What are they?”

  “Her friends.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She’s talking to them.”

  “What are they saying?”

  “They talk in the electronic tones. I hear them. Her lips don’t move, but waves of color move through the air back and forth between the orbs and the little girl.”

  “Listen. Focus. What do they say?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You can. Listen. Remember…”

  “It’s vital. Something’s going to happen. They must all leave right now.”

  My heart races with their urgency. Thunderous red heartbeats pump through the blue.

  “The sound of my voice continues to relax you. Slow your heart rate back down.”

  “I can’t.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “The little girl, she’s crying. She wants to go, but she doesn’t know how t
o join them.”

  I cry with her. My heart still races. Warm tears stream down my temples and melt away the blue ice.

  “No. Not yet. Stay with me. Tell me more.”

  “The lights, they close in around her. She looks up at me and smiles. My god, she sees me. She’s looking directly at me.”

  “Stay calm. Breathe.”

  “She’s pointing at me. Her fingertip glows with a brilliant white light. It’s coming toward me—the light! My eyes! It’s in my eyes!”

  The impact forces my head to buck against the chaise.

  “One-two-three.”

  My eyelids pop open. Dr. Light is in his chair next to me writing in his notepad.

  “What happened?” I say.

  He sighs heavy. “You don’t remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember everything. I’m just wondering why you woke me.”

  “The time.”

  “What? But I even came early.” I hold up my wrist and look at my watch. It’s dead on eleven. “That can’t be, and how would you know? You don’t have a watch on, and there are no clocks in here.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Well, it’s weird—bizarre. As a matter of fact, everything seems a little off about this place. I have noticed. And when are we going to talk about what I saw?”

  “Tomorrow. I promise. But please, you have to go. You must trust me.”

  “Of course I trust you. I have no other choice, even though things feel like they’re getting worse. I’m crazy Dr. Light, and I need your help.”

  “You’re not crazy. I will explain everything when we…when I can. I’m sorry, but…”

  “Yeah, yeah, tomorrow, then.” I get up slow. Still shaking off remnants of the frost. He stays close behind as I head toward the door. “There’s no need to walk me out.” His footsteps stop short behind me, but I continue. With my hand poised on the exit, and without looking back, I tell him, “You were there you know, Tom. You were one of the lights.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I’m out of my freaking mind, and Dr. Light is either humoring me for the money, or he is certifiable, too. What was I thinking seeing a shrink, then letting him hypnotize me? Oh yeah…I was desperate. Still am, and even more so now, because I’m curious. During these sessions, I’ve tried hard to ignore the unusual things, but it hasn’t been easy. I guess I finally lost it today when I told him about the bizarre instances of time that occur whenever I’m at his office. Hopefully, Dr. Light will forgive my outburst.