Everything We Lost

by Valerie Geary

  Her first thought was plane, or a helicopter. Then she thought comet or meteor or satellite. Any of those things would have been preferable to the truth. But the light had moved too erratically, too quickly, unlike any celestial object she’d ever seen before. It defied the rules of physics and challenged everything she’d once believed possible, her very existence on this planet. And there was something else that happened, too, something far more revealing than the light. As she watched the orb move back and forth across the desert, she experienced a kind of paralysis. Her limbs turned to stone. She couldn’t lift her arms or take a step forward or back. Her heartbeat and breathing slowed. She couldn’t even open her mouth to shout for help.

  She tried to move, she did, but whatever force kept her still was much stronger than her. She could do nothing but stand and watch the light, and the longer she watched, the more overwhelmed with panic she became because she kept seeing Nolan’s face in her mind, scared and calling out to her. That’s when she knew he was in trouble, that something horrible had happened. But she was useless to help him, could only stand and silently scream his name as the light grew dimmer and dimmer and then disappeared.

  Lucy listened in silence until Sandra finished her story. Then, she asked, “Did you tell the police any of this?”

  “I didn’t realize what had even happened to me until it was too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had to recover the memory,” she explained. “It sank too deep into my subconscious for me to bring it up on my own. Cici thinks They may have replaced the true memory with a screen memory to keep me from remembering, but I think I just wasn’t ready to accept the impossible reality of what had happened to me.”

  “Cici?” Lucy recognized the name from the UFO meeting. “The hypnotist?”

  “She’s not a hypnotist. She’s a hypnotherapist.”

  “Is there a difference?” Lucy felt Sandra tense up again and she rushed into another apology. “Please, I’m just trying to understand.”

  Sandra said, “I was a wreck for a long time after your brother was taken. And for nearly all of that time I had no idea why. Of course, there was the obvious struggle over the loss of my son, of not knowing where he’d gone, but there seemed to be something more, too. Something dark and disruptive bubbling beneath the surface. I started having nightmares, terrible, terrible nightmares. They were so bad some nights I was too afraid to even close my eyes. Then there were the panic attacks. I’d be walking down the street or just sitting in a coffee shop and suddenly I was certain the world was going to end, right then and there. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t explain what was happening to me. I drank to try and drown it all out and when that didn’t work, I tried seeing a regular therapist, but his answer was to put me on medication and then I just started mixing the pills with the booze, which made everything so much worse. But I didn’t care. I was lost. I was confused. I was in constant pain. I’d lost my son, I’d lost you. The two of you, you were my whole life, and after you were gone there was nothing left but shame and doubt. My whole life was falling to pieces. It was a long, slow descent into madness. And then I met Wyatt.”

  A group of people burst out of the casino, laughing and lighting up cigarettes, blowing smoke at the stars.

  “When he asked me about where I was the night Nolan was taken, I couldn’t remember.” Sandra’s gaze lingered on the group huddled by the casino doors. “And that’s what got me thinking, what made me wonder. Because I knew I was at the hospital. There was a record of me signing in to my shift. And I remembered going in and out of patient rooms and looking through charts, but I couldn’t remember any specific details and faces. That’s when Wyatt suggested the possibility of a screen memory. And that’s when he introduced me to Cici.”

  The group finished their cigarettes and reentered the casino. When the door swung open, a blast of country music rushed out. The door slammed shut. Silence descended over the parking lot again.

  Sandra inhaled deeply before saying, “The first session I didn’t really remember anything. I was so scared. I kept waking up. The memory was buried too deep. I had to go back three times before I was finally able to relax enough. When the reality of what happened to me that night surfaced, I wasn’t surprised or in denial or even very angry. More than anything, I was relieved. I had answers now. They weren’t what I was expecting, sure, but finally things started to make sense.”

  Lucy hesitated, then asked, “But couldn’t some of what you remember, some of the feelings, be more related to the hypnotic trance you were under and not something that actually happened?”

  “It happened,” Sandra said fiercely. “It all happened.”

  “I know it feels like it did.” Lucy tucked her fingers into the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “But how do you know you weren’t just making it up after the fact?”

  “Are you saying I’m lying?”

  “No,” Lucy rushed to say. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just saying how can you trust what you remembered if you remembered it so long after the fact? I mean, by the time you remembered this event, something bad had happened to Nolan, right? So it makes sense that while you were under hypnosis, you would be afraid for him, and that you might project your present fear on a past memory. Or even sketch in a brand-new memory that was never there in the first place.”

  “That’s not how it works.” And she sounded so certain, Lucy wasn’t sure what to say in response.

  “I know you think it’s impossible,” Sandra added. “I would too if I hadn’t experienced it myself. But I know what I saw. I know what I felt.”

  “People misremember events,” Lucy said quietly. “It happens all the time. You can understand, can’t you, why I’m skeptical? Why I’d rather see some kind of evidence?”

  “You sound like your father,” Sandra said, bitterness creeping into her voice. “Always demanding evidence, but then when evidence is presented, shrugging it off, saying it’s not good enough. Saying it’s not the right kind of evidence. Trust me, Lucy, you are not the first person to try and talk ‘sense’ into me.” She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers.

  Lucy sighed and spread her hands flat against her knees. “I just want you to consider all possible angles.”

  “And I want you to stop trying to rationalize everything and explain it away,” Sandra said. “I know what I saw. I know what I felt. There was an extraterrestrial aircraft in the desert the night Nolan went missing. I saw it and I know it was there for him. I may not understand why any of this has happened. Why Nolan? Why my son? Maybe I’ll never have answers to those questions, but maybe I’m not meant to. Maybe it’s enough to know that he’s still out there. Somewhere. Maybe it’s enough to believe he’s alive. Can you understand that, Lucy? Can you try?”

  Sandra got up from the table and brushed her hands on her pants. She started to walk Kepler back to the car, but stopped after a few steps. A spray of blue from a nearby streetlamp made her hair glow like stardust.

  “I think you should talk to Cici,” she said.

  Lucy curled her fingers around the edge of the bench. “Why?”

  “I know you feel Them, Lucy. I’ve seen it in your eyes. The fear. The uncertainty.” Lucy started to protest, but Sandra spoke over her. “Have you ever felt a whisper across the back of your neck at night? A rumbling of a memory wanting to rise up from some deep place in your mind? Haven’t there been times when you hear footsteps coming up fast behind you, but then you turn and no one’s there? Seen things out of the corners of your eyes? Shapes that dart away before you can really get a good look? That’s Them, Lucy. They’re here whether you believe in Them or not.”

  Sandra tilted her face to the stars. “It’s incredible, isn’t it?”

  Lucy looked up. The sky was awash, each star more brilliant than the next. The Milky Way was a pink-hued brushstroke following the curve of the mountains. As if the whole of the universe was making itself known to her, slipping out from b
ehind the dark curtain of night to glimmer and shine with such brilliance, making it impossible for her to look away.

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen the sky like this?” Sandra asked.

  “Too long,” Lucy answered.

  After a moment of silence, Sandra spoke again. “He’s out there, Lucy. Imagine what would happen if we went looking. Imagine what we might find.”

  15

  You are relaxed.” Cici made each word buzz a low hum. “You are sinking deeper. You are feeling yourself start to drift. Your arms are weightless. Your legs are weightless. There’s nothing here that can hurt you. You are fully relaxed.”

  Lucy had agreed to one session with the hypnotherapist. Though she doubted anything useful would come from it, she didn’t see the harm in trying, especially since it made her mother happy. When they’d arrived at the office, which was little more than a room above a garage, Sandra and Cici embraced like old friends. Then Cici turned to Lucy with a warm smile and clasped her hand, saying how much she looked forward to getting to know her better, Sandra had told her so many wonderful things.

  Cici was an older woman, heavyset, with chestnut hair hacked short about the ears. The black slacks and matching jacket she wore over a dark purple silk blouse suggested a professionalism that Lucy hadn’t been expecting, and after the initial introductions, she was indeed all business, gesturing much like any other talk therapist for Lucy to have a seat on the couch in the center of the room. Then she took her own seat in an adjacent armchair and smiled at Lucy. “Are you comfortable there?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “Good. And your mother?” Cici asked. “You want her to stay for the session, correct?”

  Lucy nodded again. Sandra had taken another armchair off to one side, out of Lucy’s direct line of vision.

  Cici crossed her legs and shifted her weight to rest on one arm of the chair. “Before we get started, do you have any questions for me?”

  Lucy stared at the rug for a moment, following the swirling floral pattern until she lost the path. She looked up at Cici again and asked, “What exactly should I expect here? You’re going to do what? Put me to sleep and then . . . ? Tell me to dance in circles or quack like a duck or something?”

  Cici didn’t laugh. “That’s a different kind of hypnosis. A parlor trick. That’s not what I do. You see, Lucy.” She leaned forward in the chair. “Sometimes after a particularly frightening or traumatic experience, our minds will do whatever they can to protect us. Memories get lost, buried, forgotten. Our mind might deliberately cover them up with some other false memory, what we call a screen memory. We can experience many various types and levels of amnesia. Think of it as a survival mechanism, a way our brains keep us calm and happy and able to carry on with the business of living.”

  Lucy folded her hands and rubbed the pads of her thumbs together. She was having a hard time looking at Cici without breaking into nervous laughter so she focused on the brooch pinned to the lapel of her jacket instead. White gold curled in on itself like the flowers of a petal with a dazzling emerald at its center.

  “Hypnosis is a tool we use to relax the mind and bring our buried memories up to the surface in a nonthreatening way,” Cici continued. “The subject . . . in this case, you . . . is put into a relaxed state of consciousness at which time I ask a series of questions that will begin to draw these memories out of your subconscious mind and into your conscious mind. You will start to remember things that you may have forgotten. But at all times you maintain control. I cannot compel you to say things you do not want to say. I cannot force you to tell us anything you don’t want to. You are in charge of this session.”

  Lucy had her doubts about that, but she stayed quiet, only glancing at her mother, who smiled encouragingly.

  “Hypnosis is not mind control, it’s not ventriloquism. And you’re not asleep, either,” Cici added. “You talk when you want to talk. You stay silent when you want to stay silent. You can come out of it anytime you need to.”

  She paused with her eyebrows raised and, when Lucy asked no further questions, reached for a notebook that had been sitting on the table beside her chair. “So let’s get started, shall we? First, while you’re still fully aware, I’m going to ask you some introductory questions. Try to stay relaxed and calm during this part. This isn’t a test. There aren’t wrong or right answers. I’m asking these questions to get a better idea of the areas that need drawing out.”

  She opened the notebook on her lap and used it to jot down Lucy’s answers. How long had she been back in Bishop? How long had she been away? Did she have any medical conditions? Was she working? Did she have a boyfriend? Lucy wasn’t sure how any of this related to the reason she was here today, but she promised Sandra she’d try, so she answered every question honestly. Then the questions started to get a little more complicated. What was her very first clear memory? The last time she was happy? The last time she cried? With each answer, the questions became even more specific, and more focused on Nolan. What’s a good memory you have of your brother? What’s a bad memory? What do you remember about the night he disappeared? Lucy felt herself starting to tense up. She stumbled over her answers, fumbling to find the right words.

  Cici noticed her discomfort. “I think that’s good for now.”

  She rose from her chair and moved around the room, closing the curtains, dimming the lights, and lighting a candle that sat on the small table next to her chair. After she sat down again, she told Lucy to lie back and get as comfortable as possible, to soften her gaze and clear her mind.

  “Try to relax,” she said.

  And Lucy was trying, but the whole thing was too silly. The candle reminded her of the games she’d played at sleepovers when she was a girl. Fingers on Ouija boards, calling out the spirits of the dead. Spinning around in front of a mirror, saying Bloody Mary three times in a row. Lying on your back with your eyes closed, girls around you whispering, light as a feather, stiff as a board. None of it real, except in your mind. She jiggled her feet, and Cici told her to relax, let her thoughts come and go, whatever she was feeling, let those feelings pass through her. After a while her shoulders began to loosen and her eyes grew heavy, but then she snapped to attention again, her whole body flinching, leaving her with a panicked fluttering at the back of her throat. Then Cici again told her to try and relax, and her voice was like warm water lapping at her feet. More than once, Lucy had to fight back laughter. This was ridiculous. How had she let herself get talked into this? Hypnotism didn’t work. Then for what felt like the millionth time, she was relaxing, growing calmer, looser. She was slipping under and it felt so nice she didn’t fight it. Her eyelids grew heavy. She let them close. It wasn’t like being asleep at all. It was like floating in a pool, like sinking into a warm bath, like lying in a bright spot of sun and feeling completely void of fear. She sighed. Cici continued to talk. She began to ask more questions, her voice slow and even, more hum than words.

  I want you to go back to the night Nolan disappeared. Tell me what you remember.

  It’s late. And dark. I don’t think that I can tell you anything else.

  It’s okay, Lucy. You don’t have to be afraid now. There’s nothing here that can hurt you.

  I’m not afraid.

  Good, that’s good. Tell me about that night.

  I’m in my room. Sleeping. But Nolan isn’t here anymore.

  Relax, Lucy. Take a deep breath. You are sinking deeper. You are fully relaxed. There you go. What scared you just now?

  Nothing. Nothing scared me.

  Were you afraid of something you saw that night?

  No. It . . . I don’t know. Nothing. There’s nothing. Nothing happened. I just want to stay in my room.

  Okay, you’re safe in your room.

  Yes. There are walls and a roof and a door. They can’t get me in here, can they?

  Who?

  I don’t know. No one.

  You are safe, Lucy. They can’t get you here. Whoever th
ey are, they’re gone now. They can’t hurt you anymore.

  I . . . I . . . know, but . . . I . . . I don’t know where I am.

  It’s okay. Nice, calm breaths. Look around you. What do you see?

  Shadows. It’s dark.

  And what else?

  Big white things. The telescopes. Oh! What am I doing here? I don’t want to be here. I shouldn’t be . . .

  Lucy, I’m right here with you. We’re at the telescopes together and you’re safe here. Do you see anything else?

  Yes. Something’s moving down there.

  Down where?

  In the desert by those cars.

  Can you go any closer?

  No. No. No. I can’t.

  Okay, that’s okay. Let’s back up a bit. How did you get to the telescopes? Do you remember what you were doing before?

  We’re driving.

  Who’s with you?

  Patrick. Patrick and . . . and he’s holding my hand . . . and Adam. I like when he holds my hand. I wish Adam wasn’t here. He smells funny and I don’t like the way he’s looking at my boobs.

  Is there anyone else with you now?

  No. I don’t think so. Patrick wants to go get someone else. No, let’s not. I just want to drive around and listen to music, okay?

  I want you to go back to the desert now for me. I want you to visualize yourself seeing the telescopes again. Is Patrick with you?

  . . .

  Is Adam with you?

  . . .