Self-Defence

21

A hummingbird shot up in the air, a tiny rocket. A gardener's air gun blasted from somewhere down the block.

Her eyes were fixed on me.

"I'll help you any way I can, Lucy."

"What about hypnosis?"

"Right now?"

"Yes. I feel ready. I don't even care if it works, just that I tried my best. If I don't do something, I'll just sit around here feeling helpless. So much has come down on me."

"That's exactly why I don't want to jump into anything."

"I understand," she said. "But if hypnosis could help clarify things, wouldn't that help unload me?"

"What do you know about hypnosis?"

"Not much- I mean, I saw stage shows in college but they were rather silly, people quacking like ducks. I have heard that when you go under in therapy sometimes you can unlock memories."

"That's true," I said, "but any time you work with the unconscious, there's a risk of unleashing unpredictable things."

"I'm a veteran of that already, wouldn't you say?"

"All the more reason," I said.

"Okay," she said. "You're the expert. But I also know that what's stressing me is carrying around all this stuff and not understanding it."

I looked at her, trying not to appear coldly clinical.

Her posture was loose, receptive. She seemed calmer than ever before. Purposeful.

I gave her my preinduction lecture, explaining that hypnosis was deep relaxation combined with focused concentration, nothing magical. How it didn't weaken the patient's control but was merely the harnessing of a process that occurred naturally for most people. That all hypnosis was self-hypnosis, and the more she did it the better she'd get.

As I spoke, her body pitched progressively forward and her lips parted.

When I finished, she said, "I understand."

Her fingertips were inches from mine, her face close enough for me to see my reflection in her pupils. I looked worried.

"I want to help someone else," she said.

"All right, we'll start out with some simple muscle relaxation exercises. But we may not go any further today."

"Whatever you say."

I had her tense and loosen muscle groups, moving from her head to her toes. She closed her eyes and her body swayed in time with my voice. I was sure she'd go under quickly.

Instead, she fell asleep.

At first I didn't realize it and kept talking. Then I saw her head tilt back and her mouth open, letting out soft, delicate snores.

No more body sway.

No movement at all but the heave of her chest.

"Lucy, if you can hear me, lift your right index finger."

Nothing.

I picked up her hand. Limp.

I flexed her head. No tension.

"Lucy?"

Silence.

Her eyes moved rapidly behind their lids, then stopped.

Sleep. The ultimate resistance.

I put her hand down and made sure she didn't slip off the chair. The air gun had stopped. The yard was too quiet.

She dozed for a while; then suddenly her body began jerking and twitching.

Crunching her facial features.

Grunting.

Fragmented REM, the kind associated with nightmares.

I stroked her hand, told her everything was okay. She fell asleep.

A moment later, the same pattern.

After two more episodes, I said, "Wake up, Lucy." She didn't till a minute later, and I wasn't sure it was in response to my voice.

Sitting up, she opened her eyes. Looking at me but not seeing me.

She closed them and went slack.

Oblivious, once more.

I tried to shake her awake, gently.

Each time I got her to open her eyes, she rolled them drowsily and the lids closed.

Finally, I managed to bring her out. She blinked and stared and muttered something and rubbed her eyes.

"What's that, Lucy?"

"What happened?"

"You fell asleep."

"I did?" Yawn.

"You've been sleeping almost half an hour."

"I- we- we were doing hypnosis, weren't we? I wasn't dreaming about that, was I?"

"No, we were doing hypnosis."

"Was I hypnotized?"

"Yes. You were right about being good at it."

"Did I do- say anything?"

"No, you fell asleep."

She stretched. "I feel refreshed. Was that supposed to happen- falling asleep?"

"It needed to happen."

"I didn't say anything at all?"

"No, but we're just starting out. You did great."

"But I'm a good subject?"

"You're an excellent subject."

She smiled. "Okay, I guess I'd better just let it play itself out- but I do feel good. Hypnosis is great. You should do it with Ken."

"Why's that?"

"He's going through some very tough times. His ex-wife is really vindictive, out to take him to the cleaners, doesn't let him see his kids. He has visitation, and the court keeps ordering her to comply. But when she doesn't, they don't enforce it."

"When did they get divorced?"

"A year ago. He didn't come out and actually say so, but I get the feeling she had an affair. He's real cheerful all the time for my sake, but he's feeling it- very restless at night. I heard him go downstairs twice. This morning I got up at five-thirty and he was dressed and doing paperwork."

"Sounds like a hard worker."

"Very. He got into real estate right out of college. Started off as a clerk and worked himself up. But it's taken a toll. He's got a bottle of Maalox in his briefcase."

She was silent for a moment. "One big happy family, huh?"

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back again.

"You know, it's strange, but as we talk right now I'm starting to get in touch with bits and pieces of memory- about being sent to California that summer."

"In touch how?"

"Like bits of- light. Poking through a piece of fabric. I can't really explain it… it doesn't feel bad."

"What do you remember?"

"Nothing specific, just the bits and pieces- like something on the tip of your tongue? It's almost as if the corners of my mind are being pulled back and I'm peeking through but I can't see clearly…"

She frowned. Her forehead knitted.

"Nothing more," she said, opening her eyes. "But it doesn't seem weird anymore- being up there and not remembering. It's as if I'm getting in touch with my own history."

I thought of the nanny Ken had mentioned. Enough for one day.

"When can we do this again?" she said.

"I can see you tomorrow. Two o'clock at my house."

"Great."

"In the meantime, I assume you want me to ignore Lowell's invitation."

I expected a quick reaction, but she put her finger to her lip and thought. "I guess the only reason to talk to him would be to find out what he's up to. And maybe I should do that myself."

"That's a lot to bite off, right now," I said. "If you want to scope him out, I could listen to what he has to say and report back to you."

"Believe me, I'm not rushing off to have a tête-à-tête with him. But if I send you to represent me, that'll just show him I'm weak."

"He already knows you're seeing me. And why should we care what he thinks?"

"True," she said. "But I don't want anything to do with him, directly or indirectly. I'd rather put my head in the oven- just kidding."

We went back into the house.

"You know," she said, "maybe I'm being too rigid. I guess it would be okay for you to meet with him if you think it could do any good."

"I can't promise you it would."

"Are you interested in meeting the Great Man?"

"I'm interested in meeting someone so destructive."

"A psychological specimen, huh?"

That wasn't what I'd meant, but she went on.

"Putting him under the microscope- okay, go ahead. Meanwhile, I'll concentrate on relaxing. Getting comfortable with my unconscious."

I was surprised to find Robin and Spike home.

"The electricians didn't show up," she said. "The truck broke down."

"Probably in the parking lot at Dodger Stadium."

"No doubt. I left the drywallers there, figured I'd get some work done here, and then maybe you and I could go out and have some fun."

"Fun? What's that?"

"I think it's something the Chinese invented. They invented everything, right?"

She put her arms around my waist and her face against my chest.

"Actually," she said, "I'm glad the turkeys flaked out. I've been thinking about how little we've seen of each other lately."

"When it's all done," I said, "let's go away somewhere."

"Where?"

"Some remote island without phones or TV."

Something bumped my ankle. I looked down and saw Spike staring up at us. He cocked his head and snorted.

"But with air-conditioning for the pooch," I said.

Robin laughed and bent to pet him.

He began breathing hard, then rolled over on his back, paws up, offering his beer gut. As Robin scratched him, he grumbled with pleasure.

Once in a while, things are simple.