What Doesn't Kill You (A Suspense Collection) (9 page)

Look for things that are there that
should not be, and things that should be there but are not.

Was it possible that he’d had this scar surgically
removed and then simply forgotten about it?

That was a crazy proposition.

To hell with the scar. Even if he had indeed imagined
that fight, it didn’t follow that the universe was Richard’s, or anyone else’s,
dream.

He must be tired.

One thing was for sure: schizophrenia was not
contagious, so he didn’t have to worry about catching it from Richard. And
since his family had no history of mental illness, chances were that whatever
he’d been going through wasn’t insanity.

By the way, at what age did schizophrenia symptoms
typically start? After digging in his memory for a minute, Stanley was
surprised to find that he didn’t remember the answer to this question. He
wished he could say that it didn’t bother him, but the truth was he felt quite
uneasy about forgetting what any decent psychiatrist was supposed to know by heart.

What would be the best evidence that he was living in
Richard’s dream?

Maybe he should try Richard’s approach and shoot
someone? If that person came back to life, he would have no choice but to
believe Richard, because in real life people that had been shot dead stayed
dead.   

13.

“So? Are you satisfied, Doc?” Richard crossed his legs,
his gaze fixed on Stanley. “Do you believe me now?”

“Satisfied? Satisfied with what? Did I miss something?”

“You got your proof. You shot me last week. With a
pistol. Right here, in the head.” Richard tapped himself on the forehead. “And
as you can see, I’m still alive. Not a scratch on my entire body.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I see.” Richard grimaced. “I guess the trick
didn’t work.”

“What trick?”

“Never mind.”

“Are you sure? Let’s talk about it.”

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Something else? All right.” Stanley opened his
notepad. “Over the weekend, I read a little about that Vishnu guy and his
thousand-headed snake. Turns out the snake floats on the universal ocean called
the Milky Ocean.”

“I’m glad I got you intrigued.”

“But here’s the kicker: the Milky Ocean and the snake
and Vishnu are all the same thing.”

“Doesn’t that blow your mind, Doc?”

“It sure does.” Stanley looked at Richard’s bag and
asked himself if there was a gun in it.

Then a feeling overcame him that he was on the verge of
a big revelation. With a grin, he said, “If I’m just a manifestation of your
fertile mind, you could have given me any name you wanted, is that right?”

“Yes. I named you Stanley. Is there anything wrong with
this name?”

“Why didn’t you name me Frasier Crane?” Stanley’s lips
stretched in a grin. “That would have been smart and funny.”

“As a matter of fact, I was considering that. But I
chose Stanley.” He took a sip from the glass. “Besides, I couldn’t remember
whether Frasier was a psychiatrist or a psychologist. These are two different
professions.”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t remember that either.”

“Of course you don’t. If I don’t know it, you don’t
know it. By the way, you seem to be in a good mood today, Doc.”

“Are you afraid of anything at all, Richard?”

After a short silence, Richard replied, “No, I don’t
think there’s anything I’m afraid of.”

“You must be afraid of something. You’re human, after
all.”

“I’m already dead, Doc. Dead men fear nothing.”

“I think you’re afraid of loneliness. That’s why you
dreamed up this world, isn’t it?”

After a long pause, Richard shrugged and replied,
“Boredom, loneliness—aren’t they basically the same thing?”

Stanley glanced at the bag again. Had Richard brought a
gun to their meeting last week?

Why did it matter?

“Remember that question about a jaywalker who got run
over?” Stanley asked. “Why did you ask it?”

“It was a test.”

“Why this question in particular?”

“I chose it because it was tricky.”

Stanley shook his head. “I suspect you ran over and
killed somebody, and now you’re being eaten by guilt. It must have happened at
an intersection. Am I right? Did you run over someone?”

His facial expression unchanged, Richard shook his
head. “No, you’re wrong. I didn’t kill anyone. I’m a very careful driver. But
you may be interested to hear that my son got run over a while ago.” 

“I’m sorry about your son. Is he okay?”

“You’re asking if he survived? I think he did.”

Stanley’s eyes turned glassy, and he froze for a few
seconds, absorbed in thought. Then he shifted his look to Richard and said, “I
know what scares you. There are people that you’d love to forget, to vanish
from your world but can’t. Perhaps people that hurt you, or people you hurt.”
He peered at Richard’s face. “Am I correct? I must be correct. My thoughts come
from you, don’t they? If I’m thinking it, you’re thinking it, too.”

“Does this mean you believe my theory?”

“Or is it Helen? She said that you barely talk.”
Stanley paused to sort out all the new ideas rushing into this head. “She said
that you leave when she’s in bed and that she’s in bed when you come home. You
know what I think?” He fixed his eyes on Richard’s face. “You can’t see your
wife. You can’t make her appear in your presence. Did I guess it right,
Richard?”

It was half a minute before Richard replied, “Bravo,
Doc. What can I say? Yes, you hit the nail on the head. I can’t see her. I
can’t see my wife. And my son—I can’t see him either.”

“Why? You are the master of this dream, aren’t you?”

“Maybe they don’t want me to see them. Maybe I’m being
punished.”

“Punished for what?”

“I wish I knew.” Richard heaved a sigh. “Or maybe I
just need more practice.” He folded his arms on his chest. “I’m afraid that
someday I’m going to completely forget their faces. That someday I’ll forget
they ever existed.”

“Why are you so pessimistic? If you loved Helen, you’ll
remember her forever.”

Richard shook his head. “Eternity is an awfully long
time. Everything that may happen will happen. And I figure eventually I’ll stop
caring that I don’t remember what my wife and son looked like.”

Suddenly, a shiver ran over Stanley as he recalled what
he’d done to Richard at their previous session.

He had pulled the trigger. Yes, he had. The memory was
hazy, though.

What had happened after the shot?

Richard leaned closer to Stanley and, peering directly
into his eyes, said, “Do you know what a medium is, Doc?”

“A medium? This word has several meanings. Which one
are you talking about?”

“A person who can communicate with the spirits of the
dead. Are you a medium, Stanley?” Richard put his hand on Stanley’s knee.

“I’m a doctor, Richard. I’m not a psychic.”

“It must be Helen who asked you to contact me. Perhaps
she wants to know how I’m doing.” Richard took a deep breath and slowly
straightened up, a look of epiphany lighting up his face. “Why haven’t I
thought of that before?”

Richard stood up, bent forward, bringing his face
within inches of Stanley’s, and then shouted, as though Stanley’s head was a
microphone, “Helen, are you there? Helen? It’s me, Dick. Can you hear me?”

Keeping calm and collected, Stanley raised his left
hand and said, “Helen can’t hear you, Richard. I’m not a medium. Your wife
didn’t ask me to contact you.”

Stanley looked around and was shocked to find that he
couldn’t recognize his office. A moment later, he realized it had been a
temporary memory glitch.

14.

“So how does it work? Will I disappear if you stop
thinking of me?” Stanley asked.

“I suppose so. But you see, the tricky thing is that
it’s not that easy to stop thinking about something. Especially, when you’re
trying to stop thinking of it. Remember that don’t think of a pink elephant
thing?”

Stanley nodded.

“After you hear this, all you can think of is a pink
elephant.” Richard chuckled. “What do you call that? Is there a scientific term
for it?”

“I’m sure there is.”

“But you don’t know it, do you?”

“Unfortunately, I didn’t specialize in pink elephants.”
Stanley smiled.

“Okay.” Richard drew his brows together for a second.
“I figure ninety five percent of everything and everyone you see here is coming
from my subconsciousness. And as far as I understand, you don’t fully control
your subconsciousness. So it could take you a while to vanish completely.”

“I guess I should be dancing with joy.”

“If you feel like it.”

“Why are you so sure that it’s your dream? What if
you’re only a character, just like me?”

Richard lifted his eyebrows and replied in an amazed
tone, “What an astute observation! To tell you the truth, I didn’t expect you
to say that.”

“So? Have you ever considered this possibility?”

Richard rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on
Stanley. “I know it’s my dream, because I was the first one to realize that
this world is not real. You see, characters are not capable of making this
discovery on their own. They’re puppets, they’re toys, they have no clue what’s
going on. You’d still be ignorant of the truth if it weren’t for me.”

“In other words, you have no direct proof, do you?”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you, Doc. I know
what I know, and I’m sure I’m right.”

“But what if you’re wrong? Would you like to go and
find this guy? Or gal?”

Richard laced his hands together in his lap and asked,
“And how do we find him? Do you have a plan?” 

Stanley was silent.

Richard sighed. “That’s what I thought.” He leaned back
in his chair. “Do you remember shooting me in the head two weeks ago?”

“I believe I have a partial recollection of that
event.”

“That’s a very big deal. Congratulations! Do you
believe me now?”

“Yes, I do. You have persuaded me that we’re living in
your dream.” Stanley licked his lips. “What do I do now?”

“Is your belief strong enough to jump off the roof of
the Allied Bank building?”

“The one across the street?”

Richard nodded. “It used to be ten stories high, but
today I added five stories more.”

Stanley could swear that the Allied Bank building had
always been fifteen stories tall, but decided not to dwell on that.

“Will you jump?” Richard asked.

Stanley bit his lower lip.

“Yes or no, Doc? If you really believe, you will jump.”

Still silent, Stanley wiped the sweat from his forehead
with his palm.

“Very well,” Richard said. “I guess you’re not ready
yet.”

As Richard rose to his feet, Stanley cleared his throat
and said, “Okay. I’ll jump.”

15.

“What made you believe me?” Richard asked when they
found themselves on the roof of the Allied Bank building.

“This.” Stanley pointed at the sky. “Even the best
magician, even the richest government in the world wouldn’t have been able to
pull this off.”

A grin appeared on Richard’s face. “What is it?”

“Today, for the first time in my life, the Sun rose in
the west. And now it’s setting in the east.” Stanley squinted and looked toward
the sunset.

“Amazing, huh? I was afraid you wouldn’t notice.”

“I’m ready to jump. I believe you, Richard. I’m ready.”
Stanley stepped onto the edge of the roof, adjusted his hair, which had been
tousled by the wind, and looked down at the street. The street and the building
wall that dropped away below his feet appeared incredibly, undoubtedly real;
however, Stanley had no fear at all. He knew he was going to be fine after the
fall. The people, the cars, and the trees were very small; Stanley thought that
they’d probably be microscopic if he viewed them from the rooftop of a
fifty-story skyscraper.

How long was it going to take him to fall the one
hundred feet that separated him from the ground? Four seconds? Six seconds?

By the way, did the laws of physics of Richard’s
universe differ from those of the real world?

“See you later!” Stanley shouted and plunged off the
roof.

16.

“Where am I?” Stanley murmured as he sat up.

“You’re in the hospital,” a young male voice said. It
took Stanley only a second to recognize it.

And then it hit him: he had just woken up, that was
what had happened! He had been asleep, and now the dream had ended.