Unwept (17 page)

Dr. Carmichael smiled sadly. “Then perhaps I may ask you a few questions that may help us both. This dream you had last night … do you remember it?”

“Entirely too vividly.” Ellis shook visibly.

“You feel certain that you were awake?”

“Yes, I am certain of it.”

“I have heard that some dreams can be that way,” Dr. Carmichael said as much to himself as to her.

What a strange way of putting it,
she thought.

“And in this dream, what were you wearing?”

“My dress.”

“Anything else?”

Ellis knitted her brow. “What … I don't understand what—”

“Were you wearing anything more than your dress?” the doctor asked, still staring up at the ceiling.

“No shoes or stockings, if that's what you mean.” Ellis flushed as she answered. “Really, Doctor, I don't see what this has to do with my problem. Frankly, your examination technique is most peculiar and—”

“Your
case
is most peculiar, Ellis.” Carmichael's head snapped forward, his bright eyes fixing on the woman as though to pin her to the back of her chair. “But I think there is a technique that can help you and I believe the time has come to attempt it. It's been used with great effect by those who have studied it under Dr. Bernheim at his school in Nancy—”

“Hypnosis?” Ellis asked.

“No doubt you've heard of it.” The doctor smiled, his voice calming and quiet. “Word of this technique has been making its way around my circles with great interest. I believe it would allow us to explore some of those dark corners of your mind, Ellis, shine some light on them and, I trust, help you to properly remember them as well. Do you trust me, too, Ellis? Do you trust Uncle Lucian?”

Ellis's breathing slowed and she sighed deeply. The doctor was looking into her eyes so kindly. “Of course, Doctor.”

“Uncle,” he corrected.

Ellis smiled. “Yes, Uncle.”

Dr. Carmichael leaned forward slowly, taking up her left arm in his right hand as he gazed deeply into her eyes. “Relax, Ellis. You are safe here. Just keep watching me.”

He reached up, his hand resting gently on the nape of her neck.

His eyes are such an interesting green.

The world receded.

Her breathing slowed.

 

 

Ellis's eyes were closed as she sat in the chair.

Dr. Carmichael's mask of the kindly physician fell as he straightened up to stand before the entranced woman. His green eyes had gone cold as he gazed down at her, considering for a moment what he should do next. It was not a question of what he wanted—it had never been about what
he
wanted—so much as whether he dared to want something for himself at all. He was tired of being here, tired of failing, tired of being forgotten and abandoned. He had come to Gamin full of purpose, but somehow it had gone all wrong and now his patron had abandoned him here.

He had to find a way back into his patron's favor.

Sitting before him was the key to all his problems and he did not know how much time he had to learn what he needed to know.

“Ellis,” he said at last after he had made up his mind. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” she answered with a distant quality in her voice.

“Ellis, I need you to go back in your mind. I need you to remember a time long ago.”

“There was a ship,” Ellis said, her voice choking as pain crossed her features. “Everyone was running toward the harbor. The children were laughing as they ran down the streets—”

“No, Ellis, before that, long before that,” Dr. Carmichael said, impatience seeping into his voice. “Long ago, when you were in Gamin from the first time.”

“I can't go back,” Ellis sighed. “We can never go back. That's what he said. We can only go forward.”

“No, no, Ellis,” Carmichael urged. “Remember. You were here in Gamin before.”

“I wasn't happy.” Ellis frowned, her eyes still closed. “I didn't know how to be happy. I didn't know sadness … or pain. None of us knew how—”

“Yes, that's right,” Carmichael urged. “Where were you when you learned pain, Ellis? Where were you before you learned pain?”

“There … I was being chased through a field in the moonlight. There was a creature there in the darkness, a terrible man of shadow, night and talons. There were briars in the dream and a little church that offered me no sanctuary from the monstrous void that followed. And there was a … a gate—”

“A gate! Yes!” The doctor leaned forward, resting his hands on her arms, his face within inches of hers. “Tell me about the gate.”

“It was bright.” Ellis breathed in deeply. “We weren't supposed to play on it.”

“Where is the gate, Ellis?” Carmichael insisted, his mouth dry as he spoke the words. “Can you see it?”

“I … don't know,” she breathed, shaking her head, agitated. “It's hard to see.”

“You were there,” the doctor seethed. “Tell me what you see!”

“It's so bright and terrible.”

“What's around you?” the doctor raged, the locks of his white hair falling down across his reddening face as his frustration mounted. “Don't look at the gate! Tell me what else you see around you!”

“It's too pretty and awful.” Ellis pouted beneath her closed eyelids. “Someone moved on the other side. He was so familiar. I couldn't see who he was, so I went closer.”

“Go back,” the doctor demanded. “Go back further!”

“We can't go back.”

“Earlier still, before the gate!”

“We can only go forward. He called me through the gate and said we could only go forward.”

“Damnation!” Carmichael stood upright, his fists clenched so tightly that they drained what little color remained from under his papery, pale skin. His breath was ragged as he looked down at his patient.

“Forward it is, then, Ellis,” the doctor commanded, his voice hoarse. “Come forward for now, but we'll try again, you and I, to go back. I'll dissect your soul if I must to get my answer. If I have to stake you to a table and take you apart vein by vein, drop by drop and sinew by sinew, I'll have my answer. I'd cut the eyes out of your skull if I could through them see where you have been, my dear. Come forward through the gate and back again … back to the train that brought you to me and Summersend and…”

Dr. Carmichael paused.

“Back to last night,” he said, lowering himself into his chair opposite Ellis, who sat still in her trance. He sneered as he settled into the chair. If he could not get what he wanted from her perhaps he could at least have some amusement. “Back to waking from your slumber. Tell me what happened.”

Ellis opened her mouth to speak.

“Better still,” the doctor commanded. “
Show
me.…”

 

 

Ellis tugged at her skirt, which was well above her knees. “I'm sorry, Dr. Carmichael; my mind seems to have wandered.”

“It's quite all right, my dear,” he said with a pleasant smile. “How do you feel?”

“Why, I feel remarkably better,” Ellis admitted with a smile. “Although a bit confused. Is the examination over?”

“Yes, my dear, we are quite finished,” Carmichael said as he stood at the sideboard washing his hands in the basin and reaching for the small towel next to it. “The confusion you're feeling is normal for this sort of treatment and I think I can give you a partial diagnosis at this point. Would you like to have Jenny join us for our little talk?”

“Oh yes.” Ellis smiled pleasantly. “I'd like that very much.”

Dr. Carmichael stepped to the pocket doors, unlatched them and slid one of them back partially into the wall recess. “Jenny, would you care to join us now?”

Jenny slipped through the door past Dr. Carmichael. She rubbed her twisted right hand in front of her with her left, a sure sign that she was worried. “Is it bad news, Uncle Lucian? I've been so worried.”

“Not at all,” the doctor said, pulling a chair from the corner of the room and setting it down next to Ellis. He motioned for Jenny to sit in it. “In fact, I should say we have made excellent progress.”

“Oh, Uncle.” Jenny beamed. “That is a relief!”

“Yes, indeed.” Dr. Carmichael settled easily into his own chair facing the two young women. “Our dear Ellis is suffering from a condition induced by a traumatic event. These so-called ‘physical manifestations' are merely tricks of the brain trying to compensate for recollections and memories which her mind is not yet prepared to face.”

“But the rose thorns—”

The doctor smiled gently and held up his hand as he spoke. “Those thorns and the rose were most likely placed there by you, Ellis, and quite possibly that same night as your dream. That you cannot remember them is not surprising; your mind has simply put away that memory. These mysterious appearances and so-called supernatural occurrences are tricks of your own mind. These are phantom memories, created by your mind in the false belief that they are protecting you from the truth.”

“But I'm not making these up, Doctor!”

“You
believe
that you are not making these up,” Carmichael affirmed. “And in the view of your mind these events are unexplained. What you need to keep in mind is that these things are not real, Ellis; they are only manifestations of your mind trying to heal after witnessing something you're not yet ready to face. Now that we understand the problem, however, we can deal with it. You
do
feel better now, don't you, Ellis?”

Ellis took in a long, deep breath before she answered. “Yes, Uncle, I feel ever so much better.”

Jenny looked at Ellis in concern. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yes, Jenny, there is,” the doctor said in his most kindly voice. “Help Ellis keep her mind off of her troubles. Some recreational hobbies would be most helpful. It will keep her occupied and allow her mind to heal itself in its own good time.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Ellis said as she stood up. “You've been most kind.”

“Not at all,” Dr. Carmichael replied as he stood as well to bid the young women farewell. “In the meantime, I am always available for additional hypnosis sessions anytime you feel the need.”

15

STRIDDLES AND RIDDLES

The needle stabbed up through the cloth. It was a rocking stitch. Ellis concentrated on the needle, gripping it from above and dragging the thread up behind it.

“Not that I know anything about it.” Minnie Disir continued to prattle on at length about everything and anything about which she constantly professed to know nothing. She had a weak chin and a small mouth, both of which worked constantly. “But that Ely Rossini has always seemed to me such a serious young man. I thought all young men were supposed to be so carefree.”

“They are all worthless gadabouts,” Finny said flatly, without looking up from the quilt. The sound of her voice still made Ellis slightly uncomfortable. Finny's weak chin bobbed slightly between the words she muttered. Her dark hair was no longer in the tight bun Ellis remembered from the train but was curled into dark ringlets. The woman had abandoned her nurse's uniform in favor of a simple day dress with a fading pattern and apron. She had apparently not, however, abandoned her brusque manners. “There's not a man in this town worth his salt.”

“You are perhaps forgetting Mr. Bacchus?” asked Linny Disir, the third of the three Disir sisters sitting at the frame. She was taller than the other two, with a broader face, and was more contemplative than her siblings.

“Of course I was not referring to Mr. Bacchus.” Finny clucked her tongue as she spat out the words. “He has earned his position here in Gamin and no one would say otherwise.”

“And what of Dr. Carmichael?” Minnie suggested as she plunged her needle back into the face of the stretched cloth.

“He's an outsider,” Finny said dismissively as she stabbed at the quilt. “He doesn't count.”

“Well, I don't know,” Minnie chattered on. “He's been here a terribly long time.”

“So have the soldiers, but you wouldn't consider them one of us,” Finny observed.

“Our sister is quite right,” Linny said with a nod of her head.

“I understand that the good doctor has had a falling-out with our Mr. Bacchus,” Minnie observed. “Moved out of his former lodgings and has ensconced himself over at Hobson's Inn. Although I don't see why he should stay over at Hobson's when we have much better accommodations right here.”

“Minnie!” Linny said, setting down her needle at once. The Disirs large home was known as the Three Sisters' Inn though they rarely took in boarders. “You can see that it would be awkward for the doctor and a continuous nuisance for us. It would be entirely impractical for everyone concerned.”

“Still, I have to wonder what transpired between Dr. Carmichael and Mr. Bacchus that would occasion the good doctor's leaving the Norembega. I'm sure I know nothing about it in the slightest, but it is certainly going to be a subject of speculation around the town … wouldn't you agree, Miss Martha?”

Ellis glanced up from the needlework of the quilt. In addition to the Disir sisters, Martha, Alicia and Jenny worked intently at the quilt, their needles plunging into the fabric, caught beneath and then thrust upward again through the backing, batting and facecloth like porpoises threading the surface of a fabric ocean. The Gamin Quilters Association met every Thursday afternoon in the front room of the Three Sisters' Inn and considered it a haven for its members from the world beyond the quilting frame.

“Oh yes,” Martha replied, her red curls bobbing with every move of her head. “The entire town has been talking about it.”

“Well, I don't see why they should.” Jenny sat at the end of the frame, just around the corner from Ellis. She, too, was working a needle, although the deformities of her right hand made her work slow and often painful. She rested often and, when she did, fell to talking. “What business is it of ours who Mr. Bacchus invites into his home or dispatches as he pleases? It is his home after all. Nor do I particularly think any of this reflects badly on Uncle Lucian, either; their parting was amicable so far as I know. It may be as simple as they found one another's company tiresome and wanted a fresh start. I think it might be hard for two men in the same home with different habits and sensibilities.”