Dr. Porter had told them a little about James’s condition. He’d had to in order to justify having the sessions in the basement where James stayed. So both Celeste and Toby knew the significance of James spending a lot of time upstairs.
They didn’t seem upset that James had gotten more than them. They seemed more affected by his reports of the good things that might await them. The anticipation on their faces actually seemed to increase.
“All right,” Dr. Porter said. “Let’s get started.”
Dr. Porter put them under and led them all through the same instructions. James, of course, signaled that he was able to go right to work. Celeste and Toby, having practiced with their tapes, followed suit within five minutes. A little while later, Dr. Porter told the three people in a trance, “Signal me if your progress in removing the barrier comes to a halt.” Within ten minutes, all three signaled that their progress had stopped. Dr. Porter brought them up.
James was a little panicked. “What happened? Why did it not continue to break?”
Dr. Porter held up a hand and nodded his head, trying to reflect relaxed confidence. He answered the questions with a question. “Did you all make progress?”
“Yes,” James said, calmed somewhat.
“I broke through,” Celeste said. “I broke through and there was the gust of heat.”
“I didn’t break through,” Toby said, the person with the least progress, but still having an optimistic tone. “But I got close before it stopped working.”
“And you should not worry,” Dr. Porter said. “I had fully expected that your progress would stop.” And he had too, after reflecting on it during the course of the week. “The barrier is bound to tighten once it is compromised.”
None of them asked about why the barrier had tightened. He doubted at this point in their lives that they would question it. All they wanted to know was if it would break.
“Is there something we can do?” James questioned. His voice had lost its anxiety. Dr. Porter suspected James had sensed the answer to this question in Dr. Porter’s calm. Now, he just needed the last bit of reassurance.
“Yes,” Dr. Porter replied. “Absolutely.” He paused to look around at the excited faces. “This week, you will all need to make progress on your problems. It doesn’t have to be great progress, just progress. Like James, who though he is still not ready to leave the house, was able to stay upstairs.”
James was looking toward the stairwell, already, no doubt wondering what he was now capable of.
“Do not try anything today,” Dr. Porter said. “Just rest. There’s no need to rush. You can start tomorrow. When you make a little progress, it should cause your barrier to weaken. But you should not overdue it. That might cause the barrier to tighten further. Make just a little progress. Then next week, you can break it down some more.”
They still had time left over, but Dr. Porter ended the session early. He knew that they would follow his directions.
***
Tuesday night was as slow as usual at Morgan’s Pub, slow enough that Tiffany told Paul he could go at eight if he wanted and she would manage the bar. Paul didn’t argue with her. He had hinted around earlier about wanting to see a movie that had just come out.
“Where’re you going?” Celeste asked as Paul came out from behind the bar.
“Terror Horizon opens tonight, and I’m there.”
“Ohh,” Celeste said playfully, but loud enough for Tiffany, who was behind the bar, to hear. “That sounds fun. I sure wish I could go.”
Celeste looked at Tiffany, who smiled back. Of course, she had no idea why Celeste wanted to go. Celeste had been quiet about her progress in therapy so far, not wanting to tell them how she was doing until she was positive that she would make it. Besides, they’d all been to see movies with Paul before. It was no big deal.
“Well,” Tiffany said. “I’m sure Kendra can handle it. And I’m sure she doesn’t want to split what little tables there are anyway.”
Celeste looked at Paul, who nodded, almost indifferently.
“It starts at 9:20. You want me to pick you up?”
“Sure,” Celeste replied.
Paul arrived at her apartment a little before nine. They had time to get to the theater and get popcorn and drinks. Then Celeste sat there in the dark theater and attended very little to the movie.
Paul was safe. Though he was high on sex drive, she knew he was a good guy and wouldn’t push her. She could get a little contact out of him, the slight progress Dr. Porter had recommended, without having to give up more than she was comfortable with.
About half way through the movie, she looked at Paul. The light from the screen reflected off his face and showed how spellbound he was. He was into the movie and barely even knew she was there. She felt a little offended by that, which helped with the motivation.
Something a little scary happened on that screen, and she gave a fake gasp, before leaning up against his shoulder, gripping his arm with both hands. Paul seemed to not really notice at first. Then after a few seconds of her gripping him, he seemed to remember who he was with. He actually took his eyes from the screen for a few seconds.
“Wow,” he whispered. “You must be scared as hell.” He turned back to the screen. A little later he said, “You want me to take you home? I can come back another night.”
By the sound of his voice, Celeste thought Paul was a little confused and felt a little guilty. When they had first met, years ago, Celeste had been afraid of him. Then, as he came to know her and her condition, he became very respectful. That meant a lot to her, especially knowing how sexualized he was. He became a male who she could trust. She trusted him even more now. He was more concerned about what he thought had driven her to the contact than maintaining that contact or trying to escalate it.
“I’m fine,” Celeste said, releasing her grip. “Just put your arm around me.”
Paul hesitated for a few seconds and then reached around the back of her seat. He was barely in contact with her, his arm across the back of her shoulders, his hand hanging off to the side without touching her. They watched the movie like that, Paul not pushing it, Celeste not pulling away. Celeste was a little uncomfortable, and she was pretty sure that if it had been anyone but Paul, or if Paul had tried to make more contact—rub her shoulder, pull her more into him—she would have stopped it. But still, it was progress. And she thought she could feel something else besides the discomfort. It was a slight warmth. It was kind of pleasant.
***
“Do you like those?” Janet asked her son.
Toby looked up from his plate of green beans, a little surprised by the question. Robert and Randy broke from the conversation they’d been having. The undefeated Pious Eagles would be facing their toughest opponent yet this week. The newspapers picked them to lose. Randy had been saying he thought the papers were wrong, and that, as long as the Eagles didn’t make any big mistakes, they’d win for sure.
Toby scanned the faces around him. After a few seconds, he smiled. “No, but they’re not as bad as usual. I don’t think I’ll like anything until I break through.”
For a few seconds, they were all silent, hoping he would elaborate. It was his younger brother Randy, who moments earlier had seemed focused on his toughest athletic challenge to date, who couldn’t bear the tension.
“What does that mean?” Randy asked.
Again, Toby smiled. “You’ll see soon enough. So just stop worrying about me and focus on how you’re going to beat the Mustangs tomorrow.”
Randy smiled. “All right, Bro. And don’t you worry about that.”
***
On Sunday, James made the pilgrimage from the basement to the living room. He sat there all day with a certain amount of anxiety. That anxiety dwindled down to a manageable level and then held constant for the rest of the week, as every day he spent most of his time in the living room.
James would look out on the street at the cars that passed by and the occasional
person on foot. He wondered how much longer it would be before he could go out there. On Friday, though he held no delusions that he would make it outside this week, James did decide to further his progress. He gathered his parents in the living room. “Now just stand here,” he said. “I doubt you’ll have to do anything, but I’ll feel better if you’re here.”
His dad patted his back. “No problem.”
His mom smiled and nodded vigorously.
James approached the front door slowly, feeling his anxiety rise fast. He stopped at the threshold. He did one of his relaxation exercises, imagining himself made up of jelly. Though he saw himself as loose and jiggly, he couldn’t feel it. He played a song in his head and tried to focus on that, away from his fear, but the song merely became annoying background noise. If he was going to do this, he would have to take his current anxiety level with him. Maybe this was a bit further than Dr. Porter had recommended. Maybe being able to hang out in the living room was enough. But James wasn’t satisfied. He wanted just a little more. After forty years of failure, he wanted things to move a little bit faster.
Without thinking anymore about it, James whipped the front door open. His anxiety grew even more, but he realized that he wasn’t going to faint. He was anxious but not so bad that he was going to retreat into himself and forget about this later. He thought that was probably what Dr. Porter had been talking about when he said too much progress might cause the barrier to tighten. If James passed out, it would be like a signal to his subconscious that he was taking it too far, and it would strengthen the barrier. But James didn’t pass out. And he was able to close the door.
James turned to his parents.
“Are you all right, dear?” his mother asked.
“Yes,” James struggled to say. He went to sit, and there he was able to calm down. With his parents still standing there, he said, “Next week, I’ll go outside. I’m sure of it.”
Chapter 9
Celeste spoke vaguely about improvements. That she was vague was not surprising, giving the nature of her problem. She wouldn’t want to discuss progress out loud, especially with James and Toby in the room. But that was fine. Dr. Porter could measure her success by her high level of enthusiasm.
Toby said he thought he might have improved, but wasn’t sure, because his optimism might have clouded his judgment. Dr. Porter trusted the assessment of this bright seventeen-year-old kid. Toby hadn’t broken through the barrier last week, which probably meant his improvements were not real. He was drawing his hope from hearing that James had broken through and found rewards.
Then there was James, whose opening a door to the outside world was a huge breakthrough. James even suggested that the next appointment be held at Dr. Porter’s office. He noted that the only times he would be outside were from his parents’ house to the car and then from the car to Dr. Porter’s office. Dr. Porter agreed that it would be an adequate test for next week, so long as James made more progress on the barrier today.
Then they got started.
Dr. Porter looked at them as they were deep in their trances. Right now, they were all they ever were, but in their experience, they were nothing more than nameless drones, responding to the simple command to break away at the barrier. And, like last time, they weren’t under long before the progress stopped. Dr. Porter pulled them up.
Toby was first. He said, “I broke through! I felt the heat too! I broke through!”
Dr. Porter smiled at Toby, who had stood up in his excitement. Suddenly, this kid had the countenance of a kid.
“I can’t wait to see what happens,” Toby said.
Next, it was Celeste, who turned her smile from the excited teen to Dr. Porter. “I made progress,” was all she said.
James then said, “And it gets better. I’ll bet the gap in my barrier is five times bigger now. It’s like the more I chip into it, the more unstable it becomes.”
Dr. Porter nodded and said, “Yes, and the work you do during the week will cause the barrier to weaken further. But let me remind you, if you do go overboard and try to take too much at once, I suspect the barrier with solidify. So, for next week, try to do just a little better than the week before.”
Dr. Porter wasn’t sure that this was the case. He suspected that there was a chance the barrier might not solidify at all. But he thought it was good to proceed with at least that level of caution.
All three heads nodded.
***
Randy Pollard had gone from a star at Pious High to a star at the statewide level, at least in class A football. He had thrown two touchdowns and ran one in the Friday night upset. Now, for the first time in over twenty years, Pious would probably be ranked number one in the state.
Last night, Robert had discussed the possibility of Randy going to a bigger high school next year, maybe to one of the schools in Green Pastures or Arabuke, where he was more likely to be recruited out of high school at a nationwide level. But he had only brought it up with Janet. He didn’t want Randy or his teammates thinking about that while the season was still on. Robert still stressed over it, though. Randy was a great athlete and an exceptional roll model at Pious. He would be a big loss. But, at the same time, they would have to think of what was best for their son, who might be good enough to make a living playing football someday. He was looking that good.
On Sunday, they went out to dinner to celebrate two things: Randy’s success as a quarterback and Toby’s success at what he called, “breaking through.” Toby usually stayed home when they went out. But this time it was actually his suggestion. They went to a steakhouse in Green Pastures.
Robert and Randy both got steaks. Janet got shrimp. Toby settled for the salad bar. Janet watched from the table as Toby surveyed the various containers. He seemed to study the food there, and it took him several minutes to return with the little plate.
Randy and Robert had also been to the salad bar, but didn’t seem too interested in their plates, once Toby sat down. Janet hoped their nonchalant stairs didn’t bother Toby. Then Toby sat them all at ease.
“Go ahead and watch to see how I do,” he said with a smile, and then the three stares were not nonchalant.
First, Toby tried a couple of grapes. He stuck them in his mouth and held them there for a few seconds. He then slowly began to chew. A few seconds later, he swallowed, the look on his face hard to read.
“Not bad,” he said.
Janet gasped with excitement, and then noticed when Randy and Robert looked at her with surprise.
Toby tried a few more things, all plain fruits and vegetables. He said they weren’t exactly good, but they weren’t repulsive either. Janet couldn’t believe it. It looked as if something might be working for her son.
***
On Tuesday, James made his way onto the back porch. This was his morning ritual for this week. On Sunday he’d stayed there five minutes and on Monday ten. Monday had been hard, a lot harder than Sunday, so James thought that maybe he should just max out there for the week, ten minutes.
Dr. Porter had said at the end of the session on Saturday that James could back out of his offer to travel to the Green Pastures office if he felt it necessary. But James thought he would make it. He figured riding in the car wouldn’t be as hard as sitting out in the open, especially if he closed his eyes when he felt overwhelmed.
But on Tuesday, as James sat on the porch swing and looked out into the back yard and into the alley, something was different. Ten minutes rolled by and James didn’t feel anxious enough. His anxiety level was not rising at near the level it should have. James thought he knew why.
The previous two days had been sunny and clear. Today, the rain was coming down pretty hard. James decided to do a little experiment. He stayed out for another ten minutes, making the total twenty. His anxiety seemed to be rising, but very slowly. He estimated that, if things didn’t change, he’d be able to stay out for about an hour. But then the rain began to slow down. As it slowed, the rate at which his anxiety rose in
creased. He suspected the rain was like a barrier to whatever it was his subconscious feared. James thought that if he tried to wait outside until it completely stopped, he’d feel his anxiety rise at an even faster rate.
He wasn’t sure, though. Was the rain the barrier, the clouds or both? What was blocked? He could think of no way of knowing just yet. But he didn’t wait around to see. He went in, content to try again tomorrow.
***
On Sunday, the urges had arrived. And they were foreign to Celeste. She kept thinking back to when she had been in the theater with Paul. She remembered him putting his arm around her. She imagined him doing more. She thought of what it would have been like if he’d moved his hand a little and touched one of her breasts. For a little while, after imagining that, Celeste felt more new sensations. Her skin goosebumped, and her nipples hardened a little. But then the repulsion fought back and she felt sickened. She repeated this sequence several times, with the same ending.
Celeste thought of what it must be like for other women, to get the urge, feel the sensations and then be able to hold onto them. She knew it was just a matter of time for her. But for now, this week, she had work to do.
She wanted to use Paul again. But, at the same time, she didn’t want to confuse him. He hadn’t said anything about the theater, and Celeste suspected he didn’t think too much about it. She doubted that when she was able to develop a healthy sexual desire, Paul would be someone she’d go for. They just had too much history as friends, something she didn’t want to spoil with dating. And she didn’t want to spoil it by leading him on either. She had to find another person to work with. On Tuesday, not long after coming to work, she found him.
Parker Swinson was a local attorney who’d been coming in for years. He had, like many, taken an interest in Celeste soon after she started. Then he’d learned the rules.
Celeste liked Parker. He was a young defense attorney with a caustic wit. She’d heard him in discussions with closed minded people and enjoyed the biting sarcasm he used to rip them apart. She supposed he was attractive to most women: lean, dark hair, blue eyes.
Scribner Horror Bundle: Four Horror Novels by Joshua Scribner Page 34
