Rachel Goddard 01 - The Heat of the Moon

because you’ve been hypnotized successfully in the past.”
    By Mother. No one else, you will never allow anyone except me—
    I forced myself to my feet. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
    “Rachel,” Theo said, “please sit down. We need to talk about this. Let me get you some water.”
    I sat with my hot face in my hands. Theo’s footsteps shuffled across the carpet, a door opened, water ran, the door clicked shut.
    “Take this, please,” he said.
    I clutched the white paper cup with both hands. On the water’s surface two bubbles burst, one then the other, creating little waves in the tiny pool. Why were people always given water at times of crisis? Was this a crisis?
    Theo said, “Do you have any idea why you reacted this way?”
    I downed half the water in a cool gulp. “I’m not used to anybody but Mother hypnotizing me.” You will never allow anyone except me—
    “Well, let’s leave that for the moment,” Theo said. “You seemed to see something that frightened you. Can you tell me what it was?”
    “I don’t know. Crazy stuff.”
    “Try to describe this crazy stuff.”
    I looked at him and blurted, “Theo, was I adopted?”
    His white eyebrows shot up. “Adopted? What brought that on?”
    “Did Mother ever tell you I was adopted? Did she tell you where I came from?”
    “Rachel, Rachel.” He reached over and grasped my arm, his crippled fingers surprisingly strong. “What on earth—I know nothing of an adoption. Look at yourself. You are your mother’s daughter. Why in the world would you question that?”
    “These people in my head! This man and woman, I keep seeing them, I’ve seen them all my life, I don’t know who—And I’m not in the pictures—”
    I tried to stand. I wanted to get away. His hand tightened on my arm, pulling me back to the couch. Water sloshed from the paper cup onto the rug, and I moaned in distress at the sight of the wet blotch.
    “Never mind that,” Theo said. He removed the cup from my fingers and set it on the floor by his chair. “Describe these people you see.”
    I shook my head. “I can’t. They’re like shadows. They’re not clear. They’ve never been clear.”
    “Ah.” Theo fell silent.
    For a long moment I sat watching the water spot spread darkly through the rug’s multicolored fibers.
    Theo asked, “Rachel, who is Kathy?”
    I jerked my head up. “Kathy? How do you know about Kathy?”
    “You spoke her name. You cried out her name. You said, ‘Kathy, come back. Kathy, don’t leave me.’ Who is Kathy?” 
    I rubbed my arms where chill bumps had risen. The room was much too cool now. I didn’t remember saying anything about Kathy. “She was a friend of mine. When I was a kid. That’s all.”
    “She moved away, and you were upset about it?”
    I didn’t answer. He could take my silence for agreement.
    “Why do you think you called her name just now?”
    I shook my head mutely.
    Kathy. My secret friend. I’d shut her out of my mind for years.
    Kathy, why are you crying? She was always melancholy, and I never knew why, only that her heart had been broken somehow and I wanted to make her happy again. She’d been closer to me than anyone in the world. I knew the depth of her sadness and she knew all my hopes and dreams, my secret thoughts. I could trust her never to betray me because she lived only in my imagination.
    “Rachel,” Theo said, his voice low, coaxing, “we must talk about what happened. It’s important.”
    “I can’t. I can’t right now. I shouldn’t have tried this, it was a stupid idea.”
    “Perhaps all it means is that hypnosis is not the right approach,” Theo said. “I think we can get at your memories in more conventional ways. But it would be very helpful to understand what happened today.”
    “I can’t talk about it, Theo.”
    He sighed and sat back in his chair.
    “You can’t tell Mother about this, Theo. Promise me.”
    “I’ve already made that promise, Rachel. You know you can trust me.”
    I stood. “I have to go.”
    He wanted me to rest and collect myself, but within a few minutes I was driving him home, maneuvering the narrow streets of Georgetown with meticulous care to prove I was calm. I refused his invitation to come in, but said I’d see him again soon.
    On the George Washington Parkway, traffic was a hum and a blur around me. I drove automatically, as if my car were linked to those ahead and behind, pulled and pushed along like a toy on a track.
    ***
    I knocked