Rachel Goddard 01 - The Heat of the Moon

at my sides until Theo touched my right wrist, murmuring, “Relax, Rachel. Relax. Take a long deep breath and let it out slowly, very slowly.”
    His soothing tone was so much like Mother’s.
    Breathe, deeply in, slowly out. Hands palm-up at my sides, the way Mother taught me. Open. Receptive. But my body remained rigid, caught fast in a web of tension.
    “I’d like you to close your eyes,” Theo said. “Take another deep breath and let it out slowly.”
    I closed my eyes. I breathed.
    “I want you to continue breathing deeply and slowly as you relax your body. I want you to concentrate on the muscles and nerves of your feet. All the muscles and nerves in your feet are completely relaxed. Completely loose and relaxed.”
    Let go. Let it happen.
    “Concentrate now on the muscles and nerves of your calves and thighs. All the muscles and nerves in your calves and thighs are completely loose and relaxed. Your legs are lying loose and relaxed on the couch.”
    Warmth spread through my legs as I felt them go limp.
    “All the tension is leaving the muscles and nerves of your stomach, your buttocks, your lower back. The muscles and nerves are completely relaxed.”
    My body sank heavily against the couch.
    Theo’s voice whispered on. “The muscles and nerves of your fingers, your hands and wrists…your arms…your shoulders…your neck…your scalp…your face…completely loose and relaxed. Your eyelids are very heavy. You will keep your eyes closed until I tell you to wake up.”
    I was aware of my eyelids fluttering, some part of me testing. My eyes refused to open.
    “I want you to imagine that you are floating in a boat in a pool of clear, warm water. You are lying back against soft cushions. The sky is deep blue with puffy white clouds, and a light breeze is blowing around you. The sun is warming your skin. Feel the warmth of the sun on your face and arms.” 
    I drifted, floating, borne up by gently rocking water.
    Theo’s voice moved closer to my ear. “I’m going to count backward from one hundred to zero. With each number I speak, you will become more and more relaxed, going deeper and deeper. When I reach zero you will be at the deepest level of relaxation. Your mind will be open and free. Don’t be afraid. I will always be here with you, and you will always be able to hear me.”
    He began to count slowly. “One hundred…ninety-nine…”
    Resistance flared in me, a sudden leaping flame. No. It’s wrong.
    Theo counted.
    Something awful would happen. You won’t allow anyone except me — I had to open my eyes. I had to get up. But I couldn’t move. My body was lead-heavy, rooted, beyond my direction.
    Theo counted.
    My skin prickled and burned. Mother will never forgive me.
    Theo counted.
    Images swam up in my mind, the sad-faced woman, the angry man. A gabble of voices.
    Take her and leave then, I don’t give a damn.
    I never said I wanted to leave.
    I want my Daddy!
    Your father’s dead, an accident.
    Theo counted.
    Mommy! My sister, crying, terrified, rain streaming through her yellow hair, thunder rolling across the sky.
    I struggled upward like a swimmer wearing weights, struggled toward air and light. Oh no, oh no.
    Theo counted.
    Mother’s face, leaning over me, her voice soft. I’ll take care of you. I love you.
    Had to get away, couldn’t let myself remember, couldn’t look, couldn’t listen.
    Theo counted.
    Thrashing, fighting, yet not moving at all, I struggled toward the light. Don’t leave me, don’t leave me!
    Theo counted.
    “No!” I sat bolt upright, eyes open, gasping for breath.
    “Rachel!”
    His hands reached, mine flailed, beating off his touch. I wobbled to my feet, but my legs wouldn’t work, they couldn’t hold me up. I sat down heavily.
    “Rachel, wake up!” Hands slapped together in my face.
    I was instantly aware, clear-eyed, wondering. Theo and I stared at each other. My blood roared in my ears.
    “Are you all right?” he said at last.
    The room around me came into focus. Cozy, safe. I nodded and whispered, “I think so.”
    “Well. That’s good.” He reached to pat my arm.
    Beads of sweat clung to his forehead, each as sharply defined as a pearl. I touched my own forehead and my fingertips came away wet. 
    “Clearly something is at work here that I didn’t see,” Theo said. Positioning his cane between his knees, he stacked his hands on its handle. “I apologize for this. All I can say in my defense is that I anticipated no problems,