Always Watching

a representation of other emotions. Could it be that my suspicion of Aaron and what he was doing at the center had manifested in this way? I viewed his actions as a betrayal of trust, even as a child, and so my psyche was portraying it as an even more intimate violation?
    Some therapists, while using Recovered Memory Therapy, accidentally planted memories in their patients’ minds. One of the reasons it was eventually discredited. Is that what I had actually recovered? A long-buried manipulation?
    I tried to hypnotize myself, counted backward several times, focusing on the flame of a candle, but I couldn’t get to that memory, the images that had seemed so sharp were now blurred. I didn’t know what was real anymore.

 
    CHAPTER FIFTEEN
    That night, I spoke to Connie about my experience at Heather’s funeral. We also discussed my concerns about the commune, the damaging effect they could have on the mental health of their members, and that if my memory was indeed real, there could be more victims of sexual abuse. I considered making a report to the police. In the end, I decided that I wasn’t ready to share my story—it was deeply upsetting, but I still wasn’t confident enough in my facts and wanted to think about it longer, see if anything else surfaced. I did, however, want to make them aware that they should look into the center’s operations. Hopefully, when they saw that things weren’t on the up-and-up, they’d investigate and shut it down.
    After work the following day, I stopped at the police station. In other places in BC, the RCMP service the area, but Victoria and the township of Esquimalt, which borders Victoria, are handled by municipal police. I spoke to a pleasant officer, who listened patiently, then said, “Do you know of anyone being harmed at the commune?”
    “No, but if they are convincing people to stop taking their medications, they’re at risk. And there are other concerns.” I shared how they’d harassed Heather after she left, and that she’d been donating large sums of money. Also that I feared Aaron was using mind-control techniques.
    He said, “Did your patient say that she was held against her will?”
    “Well, no, but—”
    “Did they force her to give them money, by means of a threat or any other intimidation tactic?”
    “Not that I’m aware of. It’s more about pressure and manipulation.”
    The officer said, “If no one at the center has made a complaint, then our hands are tied. The River of Life is a respected business in this community. We can’t just go in there and ask a bunch of questions without a good reason.”
    I thought about my memory of Aaron at the river. They obviously weren’t going to look into the commune’s activities without more evidence of a crime. I hadn’t wanted to open this can of worms when I was still uncertain myself, but if it was real, and other girls were being hurt …
    “What if the leader was abusing underage girls?”
    “Is he?”
    I couldn’t waver now or signal any uncertainty. I had to go forward.
    “He has … in the past.” I took a breath and briefly explained about my recovered memory and my previous experience with the group as a child.
    When I was finished, the officer didn’t give me a sense of whether he believed my story, but his face was sympathetic. He said he could take a statement from me, but it would get sent to the RCMP in Shawnigan, where the crime occurred. His careful explanation that they wouldn’t be the ones following up told me that he personally believed I should make the statement directly to the police who would handle the investigation. When I suggested as much, he said, “It’s up to you. I’m sure it’s been hard for you to come in here today, and you might want to just get it over with. But they’ll probably still want to interview you, so you’ll have to go through it twice. If you don’t mind driving up there, it might be better—”
    “I’ll go to Shawnigan.”
    *   *   *
    I left feeling exhausted—it had been difficult and embarrassing to tell a stranger that I’d been abused, especially when I still didn’t have many memories of the experience. It was like feeling around in the dark, stumbling into sharp edges. The officer told me that someone would be in touch soon, but I still wasn’t sure how far I wanted to go with it personally. I just wanted them to check into the center.
    I wondered if I should tell Robbie—in case the police needed to speak