“You mean the one about the road?” he presses.
Simon shuts his eyes, nodding. “And the policeman…Keylee…”
Grover flips to an empty page, jotting brief notes. “The one whose death you feel responsible for?”
Simon’s lids open, he stares blankly at a wall. “I am the one responsible.”
Dr. Grover sighs. “Simon we’ve been over this. There are no officers in this county - in this state for that matter – with the last name ‘Keylee’. Nor are there any records of any law enforcement officers dying in a car accident while on duty. Your dream is a symbolic reflection of your own suppressed guilt. The victim represents your unresolved issues. An inner self you can’t remember.”
Smile can’t help but smile. “You say that so convincingly.”
Ignoring the humor, Grover shakes his head. “I think we should continue with what we were discussing previously.”
Simon cranes his neck, glancing toward the ceiling. “You mean, Shepherd’s Pass?”
“Yes,” Grover replies. Once again, his nervous energy betrays him.
Simon shifts his weight on the mattress. “Something’s happened to you. Hasn’t it, Dr. Grover?”
The doctor’s lips part, but there’s a subtle hesitation. The chance for denial passes as silence prevails and both men remain still.
“I’ll tell you what, Dr. Grover” Simon finally begins. “How ‘bout we make a deal? I’ll tell you about Shepherd’s Pass, if you tell me whatever it is you’re hiding.”
Again the room goes quiet. From behind the door, footsteps can be heard. A full minute passes. Then two. At last the doctor speaks.
“Very well, Simon…” The doctor places his pen back into his pocket and points a steady finger. “You go first.”
Simon cocks an eyebrow. “So, we have a deal then, doctor?”
Grover nods curtly. “Yes. We have a deal.”
“Okay,” he says. “So where did we leave off?”
Dr. Grover sits up, instantly alert. “You were describing that first night.”
“Right…I remember now.”
Simon shuts his eyes, ready to begin.
MEMORIES OF THE FUTURE:
I wake up in a hospital room. I know it’s a hospital room because I’m connected to an IV drip and a loudly beeping heart monitor. My head is firmly bandaged, although I do not sense injury. In fact, if anything, I feel a tremendous sense of elation. I sit up quickly and unhook the tubes in my skin. Next, I unravel the bandages and focus on the front door, left partially open to reveal the empty ward beyond.
As I rise from my position on the bed and drift slowly out of the room, I am amazed to discover that the entire floor of the hospital is utterly deserted. No nurses, no doctors, no other patients; I am completely alone.
Making my way along the narrow corridors of the building I locate an exit by way of a staircase and once I descend the three flights that lead the first floor I enter the lobby (also empty) and head for the automated doors, which direct me to a massive parking lot where there are no cars and the sky is pitch black and the moon is a bright crescent, partially concealed by dark looming clouds.
There are no stars out tonight and as I look down at my bare feet, I’m forced to wonder if I should locate a pair of shoes. I test the feel of the pavement beyond the edge of the hospital grounds. I discover a bleak path that eventually progresses into the rough terrain of an open field, expanding outward into a desolate stretch of highway. Somehow I walk onward without discomfort even as the asphalt joins with the barren earth. Somehow, I visualize myself being lifted. In the dream, I move upwards and with each step I take I’m miraculously guided above a fiercely blowing wind which carries my weightless body through the air.
The wind increases the higher I ascend. Finally, I achieve great distance from the field below me and I’m overtaken by an invisible force that wraps itself tightly around my chest. The sound of flapping wings echoes above my shoulders. Suddenly I hear a voice. It speaks to me in whispers. This is what is says: “Remember all that you see…and all you will be shown.”
Though these words are unnerving, I remain unafraid. I do not cry out or demand to be released. Instead I embrace the hidden power and I allow myself to be flown through the clouds, until at last the wind changes and I’m gradually moving downward, returning to the landscape that is no longer an open field, but a path of white light: the intended destination.
“Where am I?” I ask, hoping that the voice will respond. And it does.
“This is the Road of Things to Come…” Then it repeats: “Remember all that you see…and all you will be shown.”
Before I can ask what “things” I will see, the power around me dissipates and I fall to the earth like a discarded stone. Again, I’m alone, but the light beckons me onward.
With only slight hesitation caused by caution of the unknown, I take my first step down the brightly lit path. Silence becomes deafening - an eruption of space - as intense vibrations swarm all around me.
Somewhere the world is shaking.
Somewhere a void is preparing to open.
A figure emerges from the shallow end of whiteness; not a person exactly, but rather a translucent being, similar to myself, but without definition, save for a pair of illuminate pupils that shimmer as they stare at me. I cease all movement. Both arms are at my sides. The shifting form levitates and I am transfixed with fascination as I gaze longingly into its disappearing eyes.
Simon stops talking and studies the doctor’s captivated expression. “You’re believing every word of this, aren’t you?”
Grover blinks and immediately shifts in his chair. “Why wouldn’t I believe it?”
Simon shrugs casually. “Well, according to you and your staff I’m a diagnosed schizophrenic...”
Grover realizes the trap and quickly defends himself. “Schizophrenia is a fairly open ended diagnosis, Simon. When you were first brought here-”
Simon cuts him off, raising a dismissive hand. “When I was first brought here, you didn’t believe a word I said. All this time you have never once considered anything I’ve told you to be anything other than paranoid delusion. Everything I’m telling you now, I’ve told you before, but until last week you’ve never really listened. Why is that, doctor? Why are you so suddenly interested?”
Grover crosses his legs, avoiding eye contact. “This is our last session together…I just want to make sure that we don’t leave anything half dealt with.”
Simon shakes his head. “Doctor Grover, please don’t lie to me. Remember we have a deal.”
Grover takes a breath, inhaling deeply as he considers something. The moment passes and he recovers. “I think we should get back to what we were discussing.”
Simon nods with full agreement. “You’re absolutely right. I wasn’t finished yet. It’s still my turn…”
GLEAMING VISIONS:
I stare at the glowing image for what seems an eternity and when the voice speaks again, a question is imposed: “Do you know why you’ve been brought here?”
Without moving my lips, I am able to respond. “You want to show me something…”
The shape moves closer. “That’s right, Mr. Fielding. I want to show you the future. Do you wish to see it?”
Without hesitation: “Yes. I do.”
“Then you must close your eyes.”
“But how will I see?”
The image raises both hands. “Your own vision impairs you. There is only one way to examine the future…and that is through me.”
I shut my eyes, my body trembling as cold fingertips caress my cheeks and gradually move up toward my eyes. Instinctively, I flinch. That’s when it happens: the fingers seize my skull, thumbs sink deep into my sockets - an eruption of pain - and instantly I’m screaming.
A fantastic blue light bursts inside my head. Electric waves shoot down my spine. A magnetic force is pulling me. Draining my energy. The blue light intensifies then abruptly vanishes. I lose all soun
d. And everything is black.
-FLASH-
I’m in a car, the front passenger’s seat. There’s someone else with me and they’re driving the car. For some strange reason, I can’t see their face. A scene of a suburban morning surrounds us: a rising sun, a neighborhood of three storey houses, fresh cut lawns, children with backpacks walking to school.
Another -FLASH- the person driving disappears. I’m all alone now. The car is still in motion, racing to high speeds. Something is coming for me, a massive white shape, and I’m terrified. It’s headed straight for me…
Impact. My world endlessly spins. Instantly, I am dizzy. My pain is constant. A part of me has broken. And I’m whirling upside down, the sky becoming pavement, the streets becoming clouds. In the distance I hear voices. Some of them are screaming. From across the street I see a man at a bus stop is clutching his cell phone, he’s frantically dialing numbers, calling for an ambulance.
The roof of the car caves and I am trapped inside.
Next comes the blood, it’s splattered against the windshield. The smell of smoke is choking me, but there’s one last image to see. I remember it very clearly. It reminds me that I’m dreaming. It’s the sight of golden apples, falling in reverse - from the blue sky below me to the paved road above – and there are hundreds of them, falling like rain, landing in piles that form all around me.
That’s it, doctor.
That’s my vision.
Golden apples.
Everywhere.
BETWEEN TWO DREAMS:
“That’s it?” Grover demands. “Don’t you see anything else?”
Simon sighs. “Dr. Grover, I’ve told you before...”
“I know you have, Simon,” the doctor says irritably. “But I think you might be forgetting something.”
“I’m not,” he insists.
“You must be.”
“I’m not. Why don’t you believe me?”
“Because you have amnesia or at least you claim to. And I think you’re deliberately blocking something.”
“I remember what I’m supposed to,” Simon argues quietly. “And that’s more than I care to. And they’ve already locked me up for the things I’ve tried to explain…”
Grover shakes his head. “What did you expect, Simon? You were found wandering aimlessly on the Interstate. You told the police you could see the future. Of course they locked you up.”
“I expected them to do exactly as they did,” Simon says simply.
“So you knew no one would believe you?”
“Well, apparently you believe me.”
Grover shifts again in his chair. “What I believe…is that you need to elaborate on what you saw. Stop holding back and tell me everything.”
“What is it that you hope I’ll explain, doctor? What is it you think I’ve seen that I’m not telling you?”
Grover leans forward. “I want to know what you saw…about me.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Why would I see anything about you?”
Grover drops his folder with the notes. “God damn it, you know something!”
“There’s nothing else,” Simon protests.”
Grover’s outburst surprises even himself. Confused, he picks up the folder and quietly says, “You’re lying…I want to know what they showed you. Do hear me? I want to know what they showed you about me.”
Simon face is unreadable. “I have no reason to keep anything from you. The only one hiding something here is you. I know something’s happened to you and until you tell me what that is, there’s nothing more to say.”
Dr. Grover bows his head in remorse. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice. There’s no excuse for my actions. Please forgive me.”
Simon calmly nods and rises from the bed. “You’ve been to Shepherd’s Pass, haven’t you?”
The doctor shuts his eyes, an admission forming. “I’ve been there…”
Simon’s face dims. “When?”
“Three nights ago.”
“You drove there?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The doctor exhales quickly and reopens his eyes. “I don’t know. Your case was up for review…I was intrigued by the story-”
Simon shifts his stance. “But do you believe?”
The doctor hesitates before answering. “I’m a psychiatrist…”
“And?”
“And I know that the mind is very powerful…”
“It is.”
“It can make anything seem real. Anything.”
“Dr. Grover?”
“What?”
“Tell me what you saw.”
THE DOCTOR’S VISION
I was on my way home from the hospital, exhausted from a full day of board meetings. I remember I accidentally took the wrong exit, heading North instead of South. When I crossed the county line, I had to take an alternate route going east to get back on the Interstate. That’s when I noticed the sign.
The wooden board was old, the black lettering, scarcely legible, especially in the night. I had to squint to make out what it said.
Shepherd’s Pass.
Underneath the words, there was a painted arrow pointing to my left, but when I looked in the designated direction I only saw the endless fields of wheat.
Then I looked more carefully.
About three yards from where the field began there was a partially paved road. I thought about you and the things we’d discussed, your fascination with the road, which I had always surmised was a way for you to detach from your real issues. But I never knew the road actually existed.
I slowed my car to a near halt, checked my rearview to see if any vehicles were approaching from behind. There weren’t any so I turned and drove into the field which then became the relatively hidden Pass.
I went the entire six miles. The only sight of interest is a thin stretch of CAUTION tape wrapped around the branches of a dying tree.
At some point there must have been an accident out there. Other than that, the road was precisely what it appeared to be, desolate and forgotten.
When I arrived home that night I went directly to bed, but I had trouble sleeping. I found myself lying over my sheets, staring into the darkness and thinking about the road. There was something irregular about the way I’d come across it. I felt as if my getting lost on the freeway had not simply been an accident. Something had led me astray. I was beginning to feel as if I had been out there before. I shook the thought, disregarding it as nonsense.
Finally, I shut my eyes. I was monitoring my breathing (a technique I’d used many times during my heavy bouts of insomnia throughout my years at college). Within a few minutes, I was fast asleep and dreaming.
When my eyes reopened, I found myself in motion.
INSIDE THE VISION:
I’m walking to the main entrance of the “Disturbed” ward on the third floor of the hospital. I’m carrying a briefcase and approaching the Oakwood desk where a man in an olive green officer’s uniform sits in rotating chair and quietly reads a newspaper. This bothers me because I don’t see the computer console or the bullet proof panel that the hospital had recently put in for to increase its level of security. For some reason, I know better than to inquire about this with the officer whom I’ve never seen this man before, yet somehow I know his name.
“Evening, Avery.”
“Evening, Dr. Grover. Working late, huh?”
I tell him I’m here to finish some paperwork and without hesitation, he buzzes me through the sliding doors and I walk through quickly. The adjoining corridor is exceedingly old fashioned in appearance. The layout of the ward is completely different than how it should be. There are no cameras monitoring the halls, the locks on the doors are manual and the hallway seems distinctly narrower. I recall then a picture I’d once seen: the hospital in its early days, back in the 1960’s. The scene before me is identical to that picture.
“Have I t
raveled back in time?” I wonder as I halt in my steps and set my suitcase down on the checkered tile floor.
The thought vanishes and I’m crouching down now to open the lid of suitcase. Inside, I discover a small glass bottle filled with ether. Beside it: a white rag and a handgun, nothing more.
What am I doing? I ask myself. But somehow I already know.
I dump the ether onto the rag, grab hold of the gun and rise to a standing position. Cautiously, quietly, I walk back through the glass doors and sneak up behind Avery.
All at once, I’m attacking him. Gun in hand, I thrust the chrome butt down on the back of his skull and force the wet rag over his screaming mouth. There’s no struggle whatsoever as Avery breathes in the fumes. In seconds he’s unconscious.
I spread him out on the floor and remove his set of keys. Then I’m racing through the doors, making my way toward 28-C. Once inside I find the patient I’m looking for. He’s sitting on the bed, alert in the dark. I know now that he’s been expecting me.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
“Yes,” he replies.
I reach for the light switch and immediately turn it on. The fluorescents above us flood the empty room. The patient rises from his bed and looks at me. Immediately I recognize him: It’s you.
“Me?” Simon asks, stunned.
Grover nods his head. “Yes. You. I helped you escape. That’s what the dream was showing me.”
Simon looks away, thinking of his own visions. “Then it’s true.”
The doctor frowns. “What?”
“The escape,” he explains. “I thought it was a rumor. But now we know. It really did happen.”
“What are you saying?”
Simon looks back at him. “I’m saying I dreamed it too. Someone is trying to tell us something, doctor…”
Grover shakes his head. “You haven’t let me finish. There’s still a lot more…”
Journalstone's 2010 Warped Words for Twisted Minds Page 24
