The Door to December

establish bonds of affection in order for the therapy to have a chance.
     After a few minutes, Laura found herself humming a lullaby, then crooning the lyrics almost in a whisper. She smoothed her daughter's forehead, used fingers to comb the girl's hair back from her face. Melanie's eyes remained distant, glazed, but she raised one hand to her face and put a thumb in her mouth. As if she were a baby. As she had done when she had been three years old.
     Tears welled in Laura's eyes. Her voice quivered, but she kept crooning softly and running her hand through her daughter's silken hair. Then she remembered how hard she had tried to break Melanie of the thumb-sucking habit six years ago, and it seemed funny that she should be so pleased and moved by it now. Suddenly she was half crying and half laughing, and she must have looked ridiculous, but she felt wonderful.
     In fact, she felt so good and was so encouraged by the girl's thumb-sucking, by the instant of real eye contact that had followed the drinking of the hot chocolate, that she decided to try hypnosis today, rather than waiting until tomorrow, as planned. In Melanie's conscious but semicatatonic state, the child was withdrawn into deep fantasy and was resistant to being brought up from those sheltering depths of her psyche. Hypnotized, she would be more malleable, more open to suggestion, and might be drawn back at least part of the way toward the real world.
     Hypnotizing someone in Melanie's condition could be either much easier than hypnotizing an alert person — or nearly impossible. Laura continued softly singing the lullaby and began to massage the girl's temples, moving her fingertips around and around in small circles, pressing lightly. When the child's eyes began to flutter, Laura stopped singing and said, in a whisper, 'Let go, baby. Sleep now, baby, sleep, that's it, I want you to sleep, just relax ... you are settling into a deep natural sleep ... settling down like a feather floating down and down through very still warm air ... settling down and down ... sleep ... but you will continue to listen to my voice ... down and down like a lazily turning, like a drifting feather ... down into sleep ... but my voice will follow you down into sleep ... down ... down ... and you will listen to me and answer all questions I ask ... sleep but listen and obey. Listen and respond. And she massaged even more lightly than before, moving her fingertips more slowly, until at last the girl's eyes closed and her breathing indicated that she was sound asleep.
     Pepper slunk through the doorway and regarded them with evident curiosity. Then she crossed the room, jumped onto the rocker, and curled in a ball.
     Still holding her daughter in her lap, Laura said, 'You are all the way down now, deep asleep. But you hear me and you will answer me when I ask you questions.'
     The girl's mouth was slack, lips parted slightly.
     'Can you hear me, Melanie?'
     The girl said nothing.
     'Melanie, can you hear me?'
     The girl sighed, a sound as soft as the light from the amber-shaded brass lamps.
     'Uh ...'
     It was the first sound that she had made since Laura had seen her in the hospital last night.
     'What is your name?'
     The child's brow furrowed. 'Muh ...'
     The calico cat raised its head.
     'Melanie? Is that your name? Melanie?'
     'Muh ... muh.'
     Pepper's ears pricked up.
     Laura decided to move to another question. 'Do you know who I am, Melanie?'
     Still sleeping, the child licked her lips. 'Muh ... muh ... it ... ah ... it ...' She twitched and began to raise one hand as if fending something off.
     'Easy,' Laura said. 'Relax. Be calm. Relax and be calm and sleep. You're safe. You're safe with me.'
     The girl lowered her hand. She sighed.
     When the lines in the girl's face smoothed out somewhat, Laura repeated the question. 'Do you know who I am?' Melanie made a wordless murmuring-whimpering sound. 'Do you know who I am, Melanie?'
     Lines of worry or fear returned to the child's face, and she said, 'Umm ... uh ... uh-uh-uh ... it ... it...'
     Taking a different tack, Laura said, 'What are you afraid of, Melanie?'
     'It ... it ... there ...' Fear was in her voice now as well as carved into the pale flesh of her face.
     'What do you see?' Laura asked.