“Are you currently in therapy, Mrs. Paine?”
Caitlin blushed, finally realizing what he was saying. He thought she was crazy.
“No,” she answered flatly.
He slowly nodded.
“Well, I realize today is about your daughter, not about you. But when things settle down, if I may, I do suggest that you talk to someone. It can help.” He reached out, grabbed a pad, and started scribbling.
“I’m giving you the name of a top-notch psychiatrist. Dr. Halsted, a colleague of mine. Please, use it. We all go through stressful times in life. He can help.” With that, the doctor suddenly stood, holding out the paper to Caitlin. She and Caleb stood, too, but as she stood there, looking out at the paper, she couldn’t get herself to take it. She wasn’t crazy.
She knew what she saw.
And she wasn’t going to accept the paper.
The doctor held the paper out there, awkwardly, his hand trembling, for way too long, until finally, Caleb reached out and took it from him.
“Thank you, doctor. And thank you for helping her daughter.” CHAPTER EIGHT
Caitlin and Caleb walked down the hospital corridor together, to the waiting area. Scarlet needed a few minutes to gather her things and get dressed, and they wanted to give her privacy. Caitlin could not believe how fast she was checking out: they would be out of their before 9 AM. Caitlin really wanted her to stay home and rest, but Scarlet insisted on going to school for the day.
It all felt surreal. Just hours ago Caitlin had been awakened by Ruth, wondering if her daughter was dead or alive. Now, by 9 AM, she was seemingly fine, and heading off to school. Caitlin knew she should be thrilled for the return to normalcy. But nothing felt normal to her anymore. Inside, she was trembling, sensing that far worse things could be coming down the road.
As they walked into the hospital atrium, a large, glass waiting room with soaring ceilings, huge shoots of bamboo, sunlight pouring through the glass and a large bubbling fountain in its center, Caleb seemed as happy as can be. She could sense he was determined to put all this behind them, to insist on things going back to normal. And that bothered her. It was like he was pretending that nothing unusual had happened.
“So is that it then?” she finally asked, as they crossed the huge, empty room, their footsteps echoing on the marble floor. “We just drop Scarlet off at school and pretend nothing ever happened?”
Caitlin didn’t want to start a fight, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t just let this go.
“What else are we supposed to do?” he asked. “She said she’s fine. The doctor said she’s fine.
The nurses say she’s fine. All the tests show that she’s fine. She doesn’t want to go back home. And I don’t blame her. Why should she sit alone in her room all day, lying in bed, when she wants to go to school?
“And frankly,” he added, “I think it’s a good idea. I think she should get on with her life. I think we all should,” he added, looking at Caitlin strangely, as if giving her a message. “It was a terrible day and night, not knowing where she was, or what really even happened. But she’s back to us. That’s all that matters. That’s all I care about. I want to put this behind us, and move forward. I don’t want to dwell on it. I don’t think it’s helpful for Scarlet to, either. I don’t want her to get some kind complex, to start worrying about herself, if she’s normal. I’m just so grateful that she’s back to us, and that she’s safe and healthy. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?” As he stopped and turned to her, the morning light lit up his large brown eyes; in them, Caitlin saw hope, desperation, and a pleading for her to say that everything was fine again, that they would put it all behind them.
More than anything, Caitlin wanted to. As she looked into those eyes, she just wanted them to be happy. She really didn’t want to argue. But as much as she wanted to just shove this under the rug, she couldn’t. Her daughter’s life, her health—her future—was at stake. And so was the future of mankind. As unpleasant as it might be, she felt she had to get to the bottom of it.
“I don’t think she should be rushing back to school so quickly, regardless of what she says, or the doctor says,” Caitlin said, hearing the determination in her own voice as she tried to stay calm. “I think she needs further testing. This doctor is a part of the establishment. Maybe she needs to see an alternative doctor. A specialist.”
“What kind of specialist?” Caleb snapped back. “What kind of testing?” Caitlin shrugged. She wished she knew. She wished there was someone who could give her the answers she wanted, someone who could prove to her that she wasn’t crazy. As Caleb looked at her, she could see in his eyes that he, too, thought she was losing it.
“I don’t know, exactly,” Caitlin said. “I’m not an expert. But there might be people who are.”
“An expert in what?” he pressed, impatient.
Caitlin was beginning to feel upset as she looked back at him.
“How can you just stand there and pretend that nothing happened in that room? You can tell the cops, and the doctor, whatever you want, but between you and me, between the two of us, you know what happened. You know what you saw.”
Caleb turned from her, impatient.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Oh yes you do,” Caitlin said. “You saw what happened to our daughter. You heard her snarl.
She threw you across the room—and there’s still a dent to prove it!”
“So what!?” he snapped, at the end of his rope.
“How do you explain it?”
“You heard the doctor. Conversion syndrome. People get into altered states. They can do anything. It’s like a fit of hysteria, like he said. You hear stories of adrenaline rushes, of what people can do. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t prove anything.”
“That was no adrenaline rush! And that was not Conversion Syndrome!” Caitlin shot back, his voice rising.
“She had a high fever. She was in an altered state. It was like a form of sleepwalking,” he pleaded.
“That was not sleepwalking!”
“It doesn’t matter what you call it. Why harp on it? There is nothing wrong with our daughter!” Caleb yelled back, his voice rising several levels. His voice echoed in the big empty chamber, and the few people standing on the periphery turned their way.