And Then Came A Lion (Lions and Lambs Book 1)

by Cecilia Marie Pulliam

  Susannah bowed her head and cried.

  ***

  The waiting room walls did not close in. Her stomach remained neutral, no roiling, no butterflies, and the heavy dread, which usually lay like a heavy cloak around her shoulders, was gone. She almost smiled when Dr. Sekelsky opened the door, and instead of sitting on the furthest end of the sectional, she sat in the middle.

  “What did you think of the book, Susannah?”

  “The dedication made me cry.”

  “How so?”

  “It wasn’t my fault the attack happened.”

  “Of course not, Susannah. You cannot control another’s behavior. If there is nothing else you take away from these sessions, remember, you can only control your actions, your response. Let me repeat that. You have no control over anyone else’s behavior.”

  “I understand that, now.”

  “Good. Shall we talk about what happened?”

  Susannah gave him an edited account, leaving out her premonitions, separating from her body, and the old Indian.

  “You’re good at disassociation, do you know that?”

  “I don’t think I know what you mean.”

  “You separate yourself from emotions, disassociate from the pain. A good survival strategy when you’re in a dangerous situation, not good on a day-to-day basis. All that emotion eventually surfaces, one way or the other, and in between, you experience neither sorrow nor joy. But, we will explore that more in other sessions.

  “Is there anything else you would like to discuss today before you go?”

  “No. Except maybe the dreams.”

  “Okay, tell me about the dreams.”

  “I dream about bears…”

  He listened to her descriptions without comment, speaking only when she finished. “Susannah, do you know what the bears represent?”

  “The pedophile monsters?”

  “No”

  “No?”

  “They represent your repressed anger. As mentioned earlier, you’ve tried to bury your emotions and it isn’t working. They are like those raging animals, growing larger and larger until they explode. You are afraid to express them for fear if you do, they will destroy you, and everyone around you.

  “Now, I have some exercises which will diffuse your anger in a constructive, positive way...”

  Susannah drove straight home, went directly to the bedroom, and locked the door. She sat on the edge of the bed, pulled out a sheet of blank paper and a pencil from the packet Dr. Sekelsky had given her. The idea was to write a letter to the monster that had attacked her and tell him how he made her feel, how much he hurt her.

  She wrote his name at the top of the page. Emotion rose and overflowed. I hate you. I hate you for what you did to me! I hate you for what you’ve done to those sweet little girls. She stabbed at the name until the pencil broke. Her anger unabated, she tore the paper into tiny pieces, threw them on the floor and crushed them into the carpet, stopping only when her legs could no longer move.

  She picked up the scraps, flew down to the kitchen, and tossed them into the sink. She grabbed the kitchen matches and set the pieces on fire. When nothing remained except a pile of ash, she rinsed the residue down the garbage disposal.

  Chapter Eight

  “Susannah.” Dr. Sekelsky began. “Do you know you can manipulate your dreams?”

  She shook her head.

  “When you have your next dream about the bear, don’t run. Face him.”

  “I’ve tried, with terrible consequences.”

  “No, I am not talking about fighting with it and trying to destroy it. I mean facing it, forcing it to back down away from you.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Try.”

  Susannah walked out of the office with knots in her stomach. Face the bear and not fight for her survival? Wouldn’t the animal tear her apart? So far, all of her encounters were horribly violent. She prayed the dreams would just end ― just go away. Her heart was tired.

  ***

  Rachel was waiting in the break room with coffee.

  “You must be physic.”

  “I just know my best friend, coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoon.”

  “You’re right, Rachel. Thank you.”

  Susannah accepted the mug, and gestured toward Aaron’s office. “And how is he this morning?”

  Rachel’s eyes flickered to the office and back to Susannah. “Good. The quarterly report showed increased sales, lower overhead and increased profits. Not a lot, but some, and he’s in a much better mood this morning.”

  Susannah sipped her coffee. “Well, can’t blame him if he’s anxious when sales are down. After all, he’s held accountable. They couldn’t pay me enough to take his job.”

  “Me either. I’m happy as a clam just doing my daily tasks, shutting everything down, and going home.”

  Susannah nodded and glanced at the clock. “Well, guess it’s that time, already.”

  She followed Rachel down the hall to their desks, turned on her computer, and groaned. “Ugh. I forgot, end of the quarter reports. Wanna trade jobs today?”

  Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? I have to close out the pay period, the monthly and quarterly financial statements, and reconcile the bank statement. I’ll take your reports in a heartbeat as long as you do my stuff.”

  “On second thought, I’ll take the boring data entry.”

  “Such a friend you are.”

  At lunch, they took Susannah’s car to the park.

  Susannah stared out the windshield. “I hate it when the snow blows sideways.”

  “Yeah, I do too. Hey, instead of staying here and eating cold lunches, let’s go over to the café and get soup. A bowl of hot soup in a warm building sounds a whole lot more appealing than sitting in a cold car eating cottage cheese and fruit cocktail.” Rachel looked over at Susannah. “Or did you bring something really yummy?”

  “No. We were out of lunch stuff after I made Mark’s lunch and I only had peanut butter and a little bit of jelly to use. Soup sounds good.”

  The small café catered to the local offices and offered daily lunch specials, a quiet atmosphere, and a professional staff. Susannah felt the once or twice a month treat wasn’t too hard on the budget and it did go a long way toward staving off the winter doldrums.

  She chose her favorite, cream of broccoli and cheese soup with a thick slice of sourdough bread and a small side salad. Rachel opted for a large bowl of chili accompanied with an equally large slice of cornbread, and coffee.

  Susannah watched the food quickly disappear. “Did you even eat breakfast this morning?”

  Rachel shrugged. “Reminder to self: do not hit the snooze button too many times.” Rachel looked down at her empty bowl and held her stomach. “Now I’ve eaten too much.”

  Susannah didn’t say a word.”

  “So, how are the counseling sessions? Going any better? Helping?”

  It was Susannah’s turn to shrug. “I guess. I like Dr. Sekelsky. He is compassionate and caring. He made me a promise and gave me a book and some exercises.”

  “Exercises?”

  “Yes.” Susannah explained about the book, his theory about the dreams and his promise of no longer feeling the emotions from the assault.

  “Wow. Sounds like progress to me.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see.”

  Rachel looked at her watch. “We’d better get back. Can’t use and abuse Aaron’s good mood too much.”

  The remaining few hours flew by and Susannah scurried to finish up and clock out on time. She stopped at the market on the way home and re-supplied the pantry.

  After dinner, she sat with Mark and watched an endless sea of nonsense until fatigue sent her to bed.

  ***

  That night the dream changed. Instead of a horde of snarling beasts, the one massive bear stood on a timbered rise, glaring down at her. Susannah stared back from inside a cabin door. The colossal animal tossed his head back an
d forth, pawed the ground, and charged.

  His beautiful, tawny coat shimmered in the sunlight and rippled along hard, lean muscle. He closed the distance, red pig-eyes filled with hate. Susannah stood her ground. A huge paw swung.

  I can’t!

  She jumped back and slammed the door shut.

  Susannah rolled to her side, pulled her legs up, and hugged her pillow. The bear did indeed represent her hate, her anger. She hated in spite of the anger management exercises and the therapy. She hated Brian Falun, and all the men like him, and she’d do anything to stop them, anything.

  ***

  Susannah leaned back from the computer and stretched her back. The office clock read almost noon.

  Rachel glanced over. “Is it that time? My stomach has been growling for over an hour.”

  Susannah started to reply and then stopped. The old Indian appeared in the doorway. With a wave of his arm, the office disappeared. Grant Playground took its place.

  The old Indian gestured toward a car parked at the curb. Susannah watched a woman exit a blue compact. She carried a small sack toward a nearby garbage can, leaving her small daughter buckled in the back seat, the engine running.

  Two men approached. One opened the driver’s door of the blue car and climbed in. The other jumped in the passenger side. The woman spun around as the car shot out of the parking lot and sped up the street. She dropped her sack and raced after the car, screaming.

  Susannah and the old Indian followed the car through the neighborhood, out onto the main streets, and then west to High Bridge Park. The vehicle pulled into a parking slot nearest the trailhead and the two men climbed out. The driver unbuckled the girl and pulled her from the car. A white van pulled next to the car and two men got out. One was Brian Falun.

  “Susannah?”

  The scene faded. The office reappeared.

  Rachel was standing near desk, a concerned look on her face. “Are you all right?”

  Susannah nodded. “Yes. I just had a premonition.” She grabbed her purse. “I’ve got to go.”

  She sprinted to her car, peeled out of the parking lot, and headed northwest toward High Bridge Park. Grant Playground was too far away. She’d never arrive in time to stop the carjacking, but she could intercede at the other end. She glanced at the dashboard clock and urged the slower drivers out of her way.

  Visions of small bodies lying in the brush pushed her anxiety into aggression. She cut corners, sped through yellow, almost red lights, and swerved around slower moving vehicles. Horns blared and other drivers yelled silent expletives through closed windows. Susannah ignored them.

  She pulled into the nearly empty parking lot at High Bridge, no sign of the car or the van ― yet. She checked her cell phone reception. All the bars showed good strength. Excellent. She felt for her upgraded, police grade pepper spray. If the child wasn’t too close…

  The Amber Alert flashed on the phone’s small screen and she counted off the minutes. They were close now. She slipped on her earpiece. This time, all she had to do was play the Good Citizen, and pray that was enough. Surely, Falun wouldn’t touch her with so many potential witnesses.

  Seconds later, the blue car eased into the parking area and parked. The two men got out. Susannah exited her car and walked toward them, speaking loudly into her microphone.

  “911? Yes. I see the car and the two men. The child is still in the back seat. They are here at High Bridge Park.”

  The two men exchanged looks.

  Susannah continued walking toward the car. “Yes, I have descriptions and the license number of the car. ETA for an officer is one minute? Yes, I will stay on the line.”

  The driver bolted for the trail head, followed closely by the other man. Susannah watched as they disappeared into the brush. Satisfied they weren’t coming back, she opened the back passenger door and knelt beside the frightened child.

  “It’s okay. Your momma is on her way.”

  The van pulled into the entrance and stopped. With sirens announcing the imminent arrival of the police, the van backed up and drove off.

  ***

  Rachel looked up as Susannah hurried through the front office to her desk.

  “You’re clear. He didn’t notice.”

  “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  “Everything okay?”

  Susannah nodded. “The child’s safe.”

  “Care to talk about it?”

  “Sure. Coffee after work?”

  “Deal.” Rachel turned back to her computer.

  Susannah logged back into hers and stared at the screen. What would do if that happened during regular work hours? How would she explain to Aaron her sudden need to leave? She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, counting to ten as Dr. Sekelsky had instructed her. The breathing exercise helped calm the rising panic.

  Well, she’d just have to deal with that if it ever happened. She turned her attention back to her spreadsheet.

  At five, they said goodnight to Aaron, locked up the front office, and drove over to the small café. They sat in one of the corner booths and ordered coffee.

  Susannah described the carjacking and her intercession at the park. “The police found the two men about a mile down the creek trail, hiding in some dense brush. Both have long arrest records, mostly for car theft. It appears the kidnapping was unintentional ― except, I don’t understand the presence of the white van, or Brian Falun.” Susannah took another sip of coffee, and made a face.

  Rachel waved the server over for a refill. “That is really strange. Did you mention that to the police?”

  “I did. They took note. One officer asked me if I had seen the van and Falun on any other occasions. Wonder what he meant by that?”

  “That is strange.”

  “Anyway, I wish I could hear the statements of the two car thieves. I’d sure like to know if they are linked to Falun in anyway.”

  “Will the police tell you?”

  Susannah shrugged. “I doubt it, unless they do find a connection to me.”

  Rachel nodded. “You are probably right. Just another coincidence.” She leaned back against the seat.

  “I hope that’s all it is.”

  Neither spoke for a few minutes.

  Rachel leaned forward. “So, how are the nightmares and the panic attacks?”

  “Better. I see Dr. Sekelsky again tomorrow.”

  ***

  Susannah leaned back into the cushions of the couch and watched as Dr. Sekelsky closed her file.

  “Well, Susannah, I believe you have the tools to take and keep control of your life. Unless something else comes up, and you need further assistance, I think we can suspend your sessions. But, before you leave, I need to add there is still one other step to total healing. You know you still need to find a way to forgive. As you read in the book, there aren’t any short cuts or other methods to relieve all your symptoms.”

  “I know. And I’ve tried.”

  “Keep trying, Susannah.”

  She had tried, repeatedly. She said the words, but they were meaningless and empty. Her heart still harbored strong emotions that ignited easily, keeping her in an almost constant state of agitation.

  Chapter Nine

  Susannah watched the sun illuminate the horizon, changing it from cobalt to rose, from rose to amber, and finally to cerulean blue. The seasons were changing, fall, then spring, then summer. There would be vacations, celebrations, and holidays. Would her life hold a new rhythm, one devoid of crises, tears, and sorrow? Perhaps the image of the inferno didn’t mean that earth shattering-life-altering events were coming. Perhaps there would be just the occasional, temporary illness, or a few financial bumps.

  Looking at the bright blue sky, she thought about the lyrics to her favorite song. Too bad, there wasn’t a rainbow and that the area didn’t hold blue birds. She hummed a few strains as she put away her devotions and collected the breakfast dishes.

  After placing the cups and plates in the dish
washer and feeding Buddy, she went upstairs, showered, dressed, and headed into town to work.

  Rachel was waiting in the breakroom, as usual. She handed her a cup of fresh coffee.

  Susannah sniffed. “Sometimes I think it smells even better than it tastes.”

  Rachel arched an eyebrow.

  Susannah laughed, took a sip of coffee, and said, “You’re right. It tastes just as good as it smells.” She took another sip and smiled. “So, how was your weekend?”

  Rachel sighed. “Busy, as usual. Yours?”

  “Unusually quiet, thank goodness.”

  “Well, that’s good. Nice to have some quite time. That’s a rare commodity at our house.”

  “I suppose.” Susannah set her mug on the counter. “I was wondering if you still have the phone number for that Christian counselor?”

  “Yeah, somewhere in my purse. Why?”

  “Dr. Sekelsky told me the only way I would get rid of all my symptoms is to find a way to forgive Falun. I’ve tried everything I can think of and nothing’s working. I thought a Christian counselor my help.”

  Rachel led the way back to their desks, retrieved her purse from the side drawer, and pulled out her battered address book. She flipped through several pages. “Ah, here it is.”

  She wrote the number down on a sticky note and passed it to Susannah.

  “Thanks.” Susannah tucked the number in her purse, took a deep breath, and turned back to her computer.

  She prayed Dr. Sekelsky and the victims quoted in the book were right. How could something that seemed so simple be so difficult?

  That evening after diner, Mark and Susannah sat in the den. A fire crackled in the fireplace, dispelling the mournful song of a wind whipping the snow outside the window. Her overactive imagination conjured up wolves or other wild creatures howling amid the thick timber, creatures that only existed in her imagination.

  Shaking her head at her own silliness, she picked up her book and read until the words no longer made sense. She stood, stretched, and looked over at Mark. He still looked engrossed in a magazine. She guessed a sport, golf, or a trade publication.