by E. D. Brady
“Kellus?” Cappy jeered the following morning. “He has a name now?”
“Yep,” Emily replied.
“A very strange name at that,” Cappy said, shaking her head.
“Yeah, it is strange, isn’t it?” Emily responded.
They spent almost every Saturday morning in the local Laundromat, getting their work clothes ready for the coming week.
“So what do you make of this?” Cappy asked while shoving quarters into a metal coin slot. “It sounds like you’re weaving quite the fantasy in your sleep. I’ve never known you to be so creative.”
“I don’t know what to make of it, Cap,” Emily answered, pouring detergent in both machines. It’s getting out of control. That’s two nights in a row.”
“Yeah, these dreams are getting bizarre, even for you, and you are the most bizarre person I know,” Cappy teased.
Emily sat down on a plastic chair, watching the contents of a washing machine spin around, lulling her into a trance.
“Maybe there’s more to these dreams than meets the eye,” Cappy said, suddenly taking on a serious tone. She sat down in the chair next to Emily. “Maybe this has something to do with the pain of your childhood. I have never been able to fully appreciate what it was like for you, the feeling of never having someone love you.” Very rarely did they discuss Emily’s childhood. It was a subject that both she and Cappy avoided as much as possible.
“You’ve always loved me,” Emily replied quietly, avoiding eye contact.
“True,” Cappy answered, placing her hand on Emily’s shoulder supportively, “but we both know that’s not the same as having a family.”
“But it isn’t that much different from your situation. You may have had a family, but technically, you don’t anymore,” Emily said, staring straight ahead.
“It is different,” Cappy argued. “I may not speak to my parents anymore, but at least I have a history with them. And I still keep in touch with my aunts and cousins.”
“I suppose,” Emily murmured, watching an elderly lady empty the contents of a laundry bag into a machine. “Cap, I think I’d like to go to therapy,” she added after a long moment of silence.
“Seriously?” Cappy responded. “What kind of therapy?”
“I think that I should see a psychologist, a shrink, whatever you prefer to call it,” Emily answered. “I thought that would be obvious as my physical self is in perfect working order, to the best of my knowledge.”
“Why?” Cappy questioned.
“I’ve been giving it a lot of thought recently, even before these dreams started. Obviously you’re right that I must be harboring some mental defects because of my childhood. With all I’ve been through, I probably should have been forced into therapy years ago. But now these dreams…they’re really starting to freak me out.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Cappy replied offhandedly. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You are one of the most emotionally well-adjusted people I know. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I just meant that maybe subconsciously you’re inventing an ideal lover to fill a void. We both know there are quite a few voids, but I don’t see that as a problem.”
“So you don’t think I should do it?” Emily asked.
“No, I don’t,” Cappy responded. “But if you really want to talk to a professional, I can arrange an appointment with one of my coworkers. I work with a great lady called Liz Lewis. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind spending an hour or two talking to you if I asked her to. But to sit with a therapist every week for months or years, I just don’t think you need that.”
“Okay,” Emily agreed.
“I’ll talk to her first thing Monday morning,” Cappy promised. “She can probably see you during the week.”
“Thanks,” Emily mumbled. “Let’s just hope it helps.”
Chapter 3
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Dr. Lewis said cheerfully, offering her hand to Emily.
She was just in time for the six-thirty appointment that Cappy had arranged earlier in the week.
“The pleasure’s mine, Doctor,” Emily replied.
Dr. Lewis—a very professional and serious looking woman of around forty—put a friendly hand on Emily’s back and gestured towards a chair. “Catherine tells me you two have been friends since childhood,” she said, sitting down at her desk facing her guest. “She’s a nice person. I really enjoy working with her. And I’ve heard her mention you in passing a couple of times.”
“Cappy is the best person I’ve ever met,” Emily answered. “I can’t begin to imagine what a horror my life would have been without a friend like her.”
“Cappy?” Dr. Lewis questioned.
“Catherine Paula,” Emily explained. “When she was around two, she used to refer to herself as Capa because she couldn’t pronounce her name, and then it morphed into Cappy. She’s been Cappy to her family ever since. Well … what’s left of her family.”
“I see,” Dr. Lewis muttered. “Well, let’s get started.” She opened a folder that sat on top of her desk and scanned a piece of paper. “So, let me see if I have your information straight so far. I asked Catherine a few questions about you to save time, and to give me a general feel for your situation. I hope you don’t mind that she divulged some of your personal business.”
“Not at all. I trust Cappy with my life,” Emily answered.
“That’s good,” Dr. Lewis stated, “because she told me quite a bit.”
“I thought this would be a lot less formal,” Emily admitted. “I was under the impression that I was only here to talk to you for a while.”
“That’s true,” Dr. Lewis replied. “Don’t let the file intimidate you. This will be very informal, but I’m doing this as a favor to Catherine and I want to do it right, to see if I can help you sort out some stuff.”
“Okay,” Emily said, smiling awkwardly.
“So let me see,” Dr. Lewis began. “You grew up in the Child Social Service system. There is no known information regarding your parents, and you remember nothing about your life before the age of six-years-old, before you turned up at a police station in Queens.” She looked up questioningly.
“That’s correct,” Emily replied.
“You had a few rough experiences with certain foster homes at a very young age. Do you want to talk about that?”
“Not really,” Emily answered. “It wasn’t anything that traumatic.”
“Was there one in particular that stands out in your memory?” Dr. Lewis pushed. “I’m just trying to get an idea of how hard your childhood was.”
“I remember living with a lady named Celina,” Emily began. “I was not the only foster child there; she had four others. Celine lived in a tiny, dull, two bedroom apartment. I don’t know where it was, but I remember the neighborhood was considered dangerous. I remember that the place was filthy. There were two sets of bunk beds crammed up against the walls. Paint peeled off those walls so badly that it wasn’t uncommon to find small white specks of paint, like dandruff, on top of the blankets. And the cold …the room was so cold that the beds felt almost wet when we climbed into them at night. We were taken off her when she beat a pretty dark skinned girl to a pulp for eating her secret stash of cookies. Looking back now, I’m sure someone heard the child screaming and called the police.”
“Wow,” Dr. Lewis said sympathetically, “And then things got better?”
“Not better exactly, but never that bad again,” Emily answered.
“You’re a high school and college graduate, and now you work for an interior decorator, correct?”
“That’s right,” Emily replied.
“You seem very well adjusted for someone who grew up in the system. Catherine tells me you’re quite intelligent and sensible,” Dr. Lewis remarked
Emily shrugged. Intelligent and sensible maybe, but also miserably alone, desperate to feel love, emotionally lost; she kept that to herself.
“You have no memory of turning up alone at a police sta
tion at the age of six?”
“I don’t remember a thing about it. I actually found out about that later on. I guess one of my parents must have left me there.”
“Nothing?” Dr. Lewis pushed.
“Nothing,” Emily responded, shaking her head.
“So you were in foster home after foster home until you went to live with Margaret and Bill?” Dr. Lewis asked.
“I spent some time in a group home, maybe a year, maybe a little less. I went to live with Margaret and Bill when I was eleven. That was the same year I met Cappy.”
“You met Catherine in school?” Dr. Lewis asked.
“Yes. We were in the same sixth grade class.”
“Do you think that Margaret and Bill loved you?”
“No, not exactly, I don’t think they really loved me. I felt their kindness was more an act of charity, their civil duty. I don’t mean to take away from their generosity towards me, but it could have easily been another child in their home, and it wouldn’t have made any difference to them. They had been fostering for forty years before I went to live with them.”
“Did you ever try to locate your parents?” The doctor asked.
“In the beginning of my senior year of high school, I tried to investigate their whereabouts, but came up with nothing. It’s as though I appeared out of nowhere,” Emily replied.
“Have you tried since?”
“No, I lost interest. But last year, when Cappy became a social worker for the state, she continued the search for a while. She came up empty handed also, except for one odd piece of information.”
“Which was?”
“Apparently, the day I was found, I turned up on the precinct steps wearing nothing but an old rag held together with a clip, and this rag is still in my files with the Administration for Children’s Services, should I ever want it back; not that I would.”
“Strange indeed,” Dr. Lewis mumbled. “If you have no family history, where did your name come from?”
“Emily was obviously my given name, and the State kindly awarded me the surname Smith. I suppose they preferred Emily Smith to Jane Doe.”
“I suppose,” the doctor agreed. “And you believe that your relationship with Catherine is the only loving one you’ve ever had?”
“She’s the closest thing to family I’ve ever had,” Emily answered. “She’s much more than a best friend. When her father had an affair two years ago, she took her mother’s side when they separated, and stopped speaking to her father. Then, when her parents reconciled, her mother turned it all around that somehow Cappy was in the wrong, and more or less disowned her own daughter. She hasn’t spoken to either parent since. So now we’re all we’ve got.”
“Yeah, I heard about that,” Dr. Lewis replied. “Do you ever feel angry or cheated that you grew up without anyone? I mean, besides Catherine. Do you resent not having a real family?”
“I don’t think about it much,” Emily said. “If anything, I’ve always thought that someone, somewhere, must love me; they just don’t know how to find me. I’ve always felt loved, despite the fact that I wasn’t.”
Finally, towards the end of the session, Dr. Lewis got around to the subject of the strange dreams. “Catherine told me that you were having some disturbing dreams. This is what prompted you to want to speak with me. Can you tell me about them?”
“I’ve been dreaming about a man named Kellus whom I can’t stop thinking about while I’m awake,” Emily answered, shrugging her shoulders.
“Who is this man?” Dr. Lewis asked, suddenly seeming more interested in this than anything else Emily had told her.
“I have no idea; I’ve never met him.”
“Are you sure?” The doctor questioned.
“Believe me, a girl would not forget a hottie like that quickly,” Emily stated.
“How long have you been having these dreams?”
“They started right after my birthday, three weeks ago.”
“Do you see a connection between turning twenty-two and the dreams?” Dr. Lewis asked.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Emily confessed.
“Well, could it be possible that you are getting to the age where you would like to be intimate with someone, yet your fear is holding you back?”
“I don’t think I have a fear of being intimate. You’re not the first person to suggest that, and I’ve thought about that a lot,” Emily replied, feeling an all too familiar agitation.
“So, why do you suppose you’ve gone all through high school without dating, and all through college without a boyfriend?” Dr. Lewis queried.
“I just never found anyone I was interested in that way,” Emily answered defensively.
“Until you started having those dreams,” the doctor corrected.
“Okay,” Emily agreed, shrugging.
“How often do they occur?” Dr. Lewis questioned.
“At first it was twice a week maybe, but now it’s almost every night.”
“Can you describe what takes place in your dreams?”
“He usually just stares at me, or tells me that he can’t live without me…or Annie,” Emily answered.
“Who’s Annie?” Dr. Lewis asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone named Annie, but that’s what he calls me.”
“How does he look while he’s staring at you?” The doctor pushed.
“Like the most beautiful creature to walk the earth,” Emily replied matter-of-factly.
“No,” the doctor laughed. “I meant, what is his expression like? Is he angry or sad?”
“He looks like he thinks I’m the most beautiful creature ever. He looks like he is completely in love with me.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“Like I love him too. Like I’m pining over a man that doesn’t exist,” Emily stated firmly.
“How do you know that he doesn’t exist? Dr. Lewis asked.
“You think he may be real?” Emily asked skeptically.
“I wonder…” Dr. Lewis trailed off. She looked over Emily’s head towards the window behind her, deep in thought. “Memories can remain hidden in our mind for years, and then one day, something will trigger a memory to jump to the forefront. Do you think it’s possible that Kellus could be your father or another relative?”
“I don’t know,” Emily replied. “I was going to ask if you thought that was possible. I don’t think the feelings I have are actually appropriate to have for your father, not that I’ve ever had one, but it’s more of a wanting-to-jump-his-bones kind of feeling.”
“That means very little,” the doctor countered. “Most young girls have their first sexual fantasy about their own father, or at least Freud thought so.”
“Yeah well, that’s just…that’s just really gross,” Emily gasped, wincing at the thought. “And besides, didn’t other psychologists strongly disagree with Freud?”
“I’m not saying Freud was right or wrong. I’m only suggesting that maybe you are confusing the admiration you have for this person, the need to be with him, with some kind of romantic feelings,” Dr. Lewis answered.
“So you think that Kellus could be my father. That maybe my subconscious remembers his face, and the romantic love I feel for him is my mind, somehow, confusing the emotions of romantic love with fatherly love?”
Dr. Lewis nodded. “I…I wonder if I could ask you for a favor.” She narrowed her eyes as though she was deep in thought again. This time there was an excitement in her features, anticipation. “We are awarded funding to do a small amount of research here. I wonder if you would let me hypnotize you. There is a procedure called Hypnotic Hypermnesia. It is mainly used to improve the memory, but some believe it can retrieve memories from as far back as infancy. This would be entirely pro bono, of course. My colleague and I are both very interested in hypnotherapy, but rarely do we have the opportunity to study someone in your position; someone who has no memory of their parents, yet dreams of people that they believe
they’ve never met. It’s believed that many people who have not seen their parents since birth, can still have very vivid memories of their mother or father buried inside their subconscious.” She was like a kid on Christmas morning.
“That sounds very interesting,” Emily answered. “Maybe I can get to the bottom of these dreams finally.”
“Wonderful,” Dr. Lewis gushed. “Can you come back on Monday?”
“Monday would be perfect,” Emily agreed.
Chapter 4
He rested his head on top of hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Slowly, he brought his mouth to her ear. “Marry me, Annie,” he whispered.
She pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes. “Is it possible?” she asked.
“I no longer care,” he replied. “I only know what’s necessary, and I can’t live another day without you.”
Emily slowly became aware of her surroundings. She tried to hold on to the dream, but it was slipping away. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to ward off wakefulness with little success.
The lovely dream dissolved.
She threw on her robe and made her way down the hall.
Cappy sat crossed legged on the couch watching ‘Sex and the City’, her typical Sunday morning routine. Emily poured a cup of coffee and joined her on the couch.
“Are you all set for your appointment with Dr. Lewis tomorrow?” Cappy asked.
“Yeah, I’m all set. Did Dr. Lewis have any specific instructions for me?” Emily questioned.
“None. She’s a brilliant psychologist …” Cappy stuttered as though there was something that she was reluctant to say.
“Yeah, she seems good. She just seemed a little overly enthusiastic about my dreams. It kind of freaked me out a little,” Emily replied. She waited for Cappy to say what was on her mind, not wanting to push her.
Finally, Cappy spoke. “I won’t lie to you; the guys in the psychology department are a tad intense, and they’re usually itching to play with somebody’s mind. It really doesn’t matter who that mind belongs to.”
