The Key to Midnight

psychiatrist said gently. 'Relax. Be calm. You are calm and relaxed… relaxed… safe and at peace and relaxed… sleeping deeply… such sweet tranquility.'
        Her shaking subsided. Her tears stopped flowing. But she kept her arms crossed defensively.
        'You are still in that room,' Inamura said when Joanna was ready to go on. 'Alone in that room, on the bed, strapped down.'
        'Naked,' she said. 'Under a sheet.'
        'You haven't yet had your daily treatment. Herr Doktor will be here in a moment, and you will describe what happens after he arrives. You will describe it calmly, serenely. Begin.'
        Joanna swallowed hard. 'The woman doctor… comes into the room and pulls the sheet down to my waist. She makes me feel so helpless, utterly defenseless. She hooks me up to the machines.'
        'To the electrocardiograph and electroencephalograph?'
        'Yes. She tapes electrodes to me. Cold against my skin. The machine keeps beeping… beeping… beeping. It drives me crazy. She slips a board under my arm. Tapes it in place. Hooks me up to the bottle.'
        'Do you mean that you're being fed intravenously?'
        'That's always how the treatment starts.' Gradually Joanna's speech became slower and thicker than normal. 'And she covers my breasts with the sheet… watches me… watches me… takes my blood pressure… and after a while… I begin to float… light, so light, like a feather… but aware of everything… too aware, painfully aware… a sharp, terrible awareness… but all the time floating… floating.'
        'Joanna, why is your speech slurring?'
        'Floating… numb… drifting…'
        'Does the IV bottle contain a drug in addition to glucose?'
        'Don't know. Maybe. Up, up, up like a balloon.'
        'It must be a drug,' Alex said.
        Inamura nodded. 'Joanna, I don't want you to speak in that thick, sluggish manner. Speak normally. The drug is still being administered to you, but it won't affect your speech. You'll continue to experience this treatment, and you will tell me about it in your usual, unaffected voice.'
        'All right.'
        'Good. Continue.'
        'The woman leaves. I'm alone again. Still floating. But I don't feel high or happy. Never do. Just scared. Then…'
        'What happens then?' Inamura encouraged.
        'Then… then… the door opens and he enters. The Hand.'
        'Herr Doktor?'
        'Him, him.'
        'What's he doing?'
        'I want out of here.'
        'What is the doctor doing, Joanna?'
        'Please. Please let me out.'
        'Be calm. You are in no danger. What is he doing?'
        She continued reluctantly: 'Pushing the cart.'
        'What cart is he pushing?'
        'It's covered with medical instruments.'
        'Go on.'
        'He comes to the bed. His hand…'
        'What about his hand, Joanna?'
        'He… he… he… he holds his hand in front of my face.'
        'Yes?'
        'Opens and closes his steel fingers.'
        'Does he say anything?'
        'No. Just the s-sound of his fingers. Clicking.'
        'How long does this go on?'
        'Until I'm crying.'
        'Is that what he wants - to see you cry?'
        She was shivering.
        The room seemed cold to Alex too.
        'He wants to scare me,' she said. 'He enjoys it.'
        'How do you know he enjoys it?' asked Inamura.
        'I know him. The Hand. I know him so well by now. I hate him. Standing over me. Looking down. The clicking fingers. He grins.'
        'So he makes you cry. He likes watching you cry. But then what does he do?'
        'No,' she said miserably. She turned onto her side in the big reclining chair, facing Alex, eyes still closed, arms still tucked against her breast. She drew her knees up slightly, into the fetal position. 'No… please.'
        'Relax, Joanna,' Inamura said. 'You are there but detached from the experience now, insulated from the feelings this time. You are there only as an observer.'
        'No… no.' But her protests were merely weak denials of the horror of those memories, not a refusal to proceed with the session.
        Alex was suffering with her, because the helplessness that she had felt while strapped to that bed was akin to the sense of helplessness that had informed his entire childhood.
        'What is Herr Doktor doing now?' Inamura asked.
        'The needle.'
        'The IV?'
        'No. Another. Oh,