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Foundations 4/6
Terry Odell (tlco777@JUNO.COM)Sun, 15 Jul 2001 15:19:05 -0400
Foundations By T. L. Odell Part 4/6 See Part 0 for Disclaimers Duncan kept a watchful eye on Kelly as he picked up the cordless phone and punched the buttons. He insisted that the service put him through to the doctor. After four rings, he heard a female voice answer, "This is Sidney Meriwether." "I'm sorry to disturb you in the middle of the night, Doctor. My name is Duncan MacLeod." "No need to apologize, Mr. MacLeod. I'm in New York for a symposium, so it's morning here. What seems to be the problem?" "I'm with Kelly Carpenter. It appears that she has just remembered whatever trauma she's been suppressing. I only met her a couple of days ago, and I'm a bit out of my league. She's quite agitated." "Tell me what she's said, what she's doing," she said in a calm, professional tone. Duncan relayed Kelly's behavior. She had resumed pacing, clenching and unclenching her fists, mumbling incoherently. "Give her the phone; let me see if I can reach her." Duncan extended the handset to Kelly, tried to put it in her hand, but she didn't seem to recognize it. She continued to pace, now clutching her arms tightly around her chest. "I'm sorry, but she doesn't seem to be aware of her surroundings. I was lucky to get your number out of her." "I'll be back in my Seacouver office on Friday; I can talk to her then. If she needs them, Kelly has some sedatives that I prescribed; just watch the dosage. But, the best thing is to keep her talking. Don't sedate her unless it's absolutely necessary. Don't let her retreat again. She needs to remember." "I'll do what I can. Thank you." He put down the phone and went over Kelly, trying to calm her down. "Dr. Meriwether said for you to talk about it. She'll talk to you on Friday. It's almost Thursday morning already; you don't have too much longer to wait. "What happened when Robert came to take you to the picnic?" he asked. "Kelly. Come back. Robert. The picnic. What happened? Kelly. Listen to me. Listen to me. The only way out of this is to talk about it." She shook her head wildly. "I can't. I can't. It hurts too much." "You can, Kelly. You can. I'll be right here. Take my hand." He took her hand; she didn't pull away this time. He led her back to the couch and placed her hand on top of his. "Trust me. You hold my hand; you can let go any time you need to." *** Kelly felt the warmth of his large hand beneath hers. Her eyes met his unflinching gaze. He was right; she could do this. She had to do this. She wanted to trust him, to let him help her, but the memories swirled in her head, too terrifying to put into words. "Start with something you know, with something you've said before. We can go together from there. We were talking about the picnic, remember?" She took a deep breath and gathered herself. "It was a beautiful day. I thought Robert might even propose. We took a rowboat over to a small island. Two men were at the dock. They grabbed me. I looked at Robert, but he ... he didn't ... he just told them to take me upstairs ... he'd make the call." "Why did he want you?" "For money. He kidnapped me and wanted my uncle to get him a million dollars from the Foundation. He never wanted me, never loved me; he just wanted money." She stopped talking, fighting off the memories of Robert's duplicity, the feeling of shame at being used. "Go on," Duncan urged gently. "It's too hard. I can't." "Yes, you can. We're doing this together." She squeezed down on his hand as hard as she could, as if it would give her the strength to continue. It took all her energy to form the words, to speak them aloud at last. "They took me upstairs. They were crude, and smelly, and rough, and they ... they ..." Her voice grew louder as she spoke; she squeezed again, harder, digging in her nails. "Shh. Slow down. Take it easy. I understand." Now that she had started talking, she needed to finish. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and went on. "They'd each had a turn, and were getting ready for a second go-round. There was a glass by the bed; I don't know exactly how, but I broke it and slashed out at whoever was coming at me. I think I cut his carotid or jugular; there was blood everywhere. He collapsed on top of me, and ... and ... ohmygod, ohymygod, I killed him. I killed a man!" She felt the nausea overwhelm her and bolted for the kitchen. Duncan was there, holding her forehead as she vomited violently into the sink. He wiped her face with a damp towel, gave her some water, and took her in his arms. She buried her face in his chest. Everything that had been inside her forced its way out in big, gulping, gut-wracking sobs. He held her until she finished, stroking her hair and patting her back. His touch gave her comfort; she relaxed into his strength. Her tears finally spent, she started to turn toward the living room. Duncan didn't release her; he forced her to meet his eyes. Rays of light from the sunrise had begun to illuminate the house. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to be sorry for. You did exactly what you had to do. And, I meant what I said before. Nothing you said tonight will leave this room until you want it to." She nodded, physically and emotionally drained. "Your doctor said to remember as much as you could. Is there more?" "Not much. I remember odds and ends--Uncle Phil showing up, the police, paramedics maybe, but I was unconscious when they took me to the hospital. I had to have surgery; I can't have children. I'm sure that at some level I must have known why, but I could never bring it to the surface. "They caught Robert and his accomplice, who was his brother. The one I killed was a cousin. Uncle Phil made sure they got thrown in jail for a long, long time. Apparently I wasn't their first victim. I can't believe I fell in love with someone like that. How stupid could I be?" "You fell in love with the person he allowed you to see, not the person he was." She stood there, motionless, not sure if she was better off remembering, if she had just traded one pain for another. She lowered her gaze. "It's just about morning," he continued. "Do you think you'd like to try to get some sleep, or should we just plunge into the day?" She took a deep, shaky breath and raised her eyes to meet his once again. "I think I'm ready for a new day." "I'll put on some water for coffee. Or would you prefer tea?" "Coffee sounds good. But do you mind if I freshen up a bit first? I'm kind of gross." "Are you sure you're okay?" "No, I'm not sure. But I think I can keep it together long enough for a shower." "Promise you'll call if you need help." "I'll try." *** Duncan busied himself in the kitchen making coffee and toast, but he worked quietly, making sure he could hear any unusual sounds from the bathroom. Kelly was still very fragile. He heard the water run for a few minutes, then stop. "Kelly?" he called out. "I'm still okay, Mac. I'll be out in a bit." She returned to the kitchen, towel drying her hair, wearing baggy jeans and a bulky knit sweater. She sat at the table, where Duncan had arranged the coffee and accoutrements, as well as toast, butter, and honey. The two of them ate slowly, Duncan tentatively breaking the silence. "Would you like to walk along the nature trail? You can quiz me on the trees and flowers." She didn't look up. "Yes. Thanks. I think I'd like that." As they strolled along the trail, Kelly seemed to find strength among the familiar plants. "This one is called White Mandarin. When it blooms, there will be little white flowers that hang below the leaves." She showed him more of her favorites, her eyes lighting up as she pointed to the meadow. "It will be beautiful out there--like a giant patchwork quilt. There will be Indian paintbrush, bluebells, lupine, columbine, shooting stars-- all sorts of wildflowers. You should come back and see it." "I'd love to." "Mac--I'm glad you were here." She met his eyes at last. "Thanks for everything." Duncan smiled. "I'm sure you're going to do just fine. Be patient. These things take time. And Kelly, if you need anything, or just want to talk--please give me a call." End of Part 4