Strangers

I've read, from the way it was with my father, I don't think the onset of senility - premature or otherwise - is ever like this. What it sounds like is a simple phobia. Phobia. Some people have an irrational fear of flying or heights. For some reason, you've developed a fear of the dark. It can be overcome."
        "But phobias just don't develop overnight, do they?"
        Their right hands were still clasped. She squeezed his as she said, "Do you remember Helen Dorfman? Almost twenty-four years ago. Our landlady when you were first assigned to Camp Pendleton."
        "Oh, yeah! The building on Vine Street, lived in number one, first floor front. We lived in number six." He seemed to take heart from his ability to recall those details. "She had a cat… Sable. Remember how the damn cat took a liking to us, left little gifts on our doorstep?"
        "Dead mice."
        "Yeah. Right there beside the morning paper and the milk," He laughed, blinked, and said, "Hey, I see what you mean by bringing up Helen Dorfman! She was afraid to go out of her apartment. Couldn't even walk out on her own lawn."
        "The poor woman had agoraphobia," Faye said. "An irrational fear of open spaces. She was a prisoner in her own home. Outside, she was overwhelmed with fear. Doctors call it a 'panic attack,' I think."
        "Panic attack," Ernie said softly. "Yeah, that's it, all right."
        "And Helen didn't develop her agoraphobia till she was thirty-five, after her husband died. Phobias can spring up suddenly, later in life."
        "Well, whatever the hell a phobia is, wherever it comes from… I guess it's a lot better than senility. But good God, I don't want to spend the rest of my life being afraid of the dark."
        "You won't have to," Faye said. "Twenty-four years ago, nobody understood phobias. There hadn't been much study done. No effective treatments. But it's not like that now. I'm sure it's not."
        He was silent a moment. "I'm not crazy, Faye."
        "I know that, you big jerk."
        He mulled over the word "phobia, and he plainly wanted to believe her answer. In his blue eyes, she saw a rebirth of hope.
        He said, "But the weird experience I had on the interstate on Tuesday… And the hallucination - I'm sure it must've been a hallucination- o f the motorcyclist on the roof… How does stuff like that fit this explanation? How could that be a part of my phobia?"
        "I don't know. But an expert in the field could explain it all and tie it together. I'm sure it's not as unusual as it seems, Ernie."
        He pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. But how do we begin? Where do we go for help? How do I beat this damn thing?"
        "I already have it figured out," she said. "No doctor in Elko is going to know how to treat a case like this. We need a specialist, someone who deals with phobic patients every day. Probably isn't anyone like that in Reno, either. We'll have to go to a bigger city. Now, I suspect Milwaukee's big enough to have a doctor with experience in these things, and we could stay with Lucy and Frank-"
        "And at the same time get to see a lot of Frank, Jr., and Dorie," Ernie said, smiling at the thought of his grandchildren.
        "Right. We'll go there for Christmas a week sooner than planned, this Sunday instead of next. Which is tomorrow, in fact. It's already Saturday. When we get to Milwaukee, we'll look up a doctor. If, by New Year's, it looks like we'll have to stay there awhile, then I'll fly back here, find a full-time couple to manage the place, and rejoin you. We were planning to hire somebody this spring, anyway."
        "If we close the motel a week early, Sandy and Ned will lose out on some money over at the Grille."
        "Ned will still get the truckers off the interstate. And if he doesn't do as well as usual, we'll make it up to him."
        Ernie shook his head and smiled. "You've got it all worked out. You're something, Faye. You sure are. You're an absolute wonder."
        "Well, I will admit I can be dazzling sometimes."
        "I thank God every day that I found you," he said. "I don't have any regrets either, Ernie, and I know I never will."
        "You know, I feel a thousand percent better than when we first sat down here. Why'd it take me so damn long to ask you for help?"
        "Why? Because you're a Block," she said.
        He grinned and finished the old joke: "Which is only one step removed