“I must speak to Judge Langley, Mr. Cartright. It’s urgent.”
“The judge isn’t here at present, Mrs. Templeton. Can I help?”
“It’s about my daughter. About the test. I do not want it to take place. I refuse to give my permission.”
“I’ll try to get your message to Judge Langley.”
Fingers of terror seemed to be reaching toward her, seeking to grip her as she quickly showered and packed enough clothing for a lengthy stay. Her hands moved automatically—she was scarcely aware she was directing them—while her mind raced. She must get to Ivy. She must stay with her. Be with her. Somehow she’d stop the test.
Her head reeled sickeningly as she lifted the heavy suitcase and dragged it down the narrow staircase to the living room.
She went out into the hallway and rang for the elevator. While Ernie went inside to fetch the suitcase, Janice remained at the door, looking wistfully back into the living room—a long, piercing, unmoving look—thinking of all she was leaving, and wondering if it would ever be the same again, if she and Bill and Ivy would ever again share the sweet and beautiful life they had made for themselves.
“Dear God, let it not be the end,” Janice cried to herself as tears bit at her eyes and she squeezed them shut against the thought of the terrible deprivation. “Don’t let it be the end,” she prayed, while, at the same time, deep, deep in her heart knowing, as she had known all along, from the very beginning, from that very first day in front of the school and the man with the sideburns and mustache, in that moment of instant prescience, that one day the final act would have to be played out, on its own terms, finding its own way to its own ending.
PART FOUR
Audrey Rose
24
“Good morning. My name is Steven F. Lipscomb. I’m a Doctor of Psychiatry and have been chosen to lead the team of three psychiatrists selected by the court to conduct this test.”
The slight, forward hunch of his body and the few remaining strands of gray hair put him somewhere in his sixties, though he might have been younger. The crow’s-feet at the corners of his weary, patient eyes, his calmness of manner and intelligence, coupled with an almost humorless sincerity, affirmed his place in the ranks of the medical profession.
“After consultation with my colleagues Dr. Nathan Kaufman and Dr. Gregory Perez, we have decided to approach the testing of the subject individually, in succeeding shifts, Dr. Kaufman to succeed me, Dr. Perez to succeed him, should the testing fail to achieve results after a predetermined length of time.”
He was standing in a room that was calm, softly lit, barren of decor, and, save for a leather couch and a hard-backed chair, devoid of furnishings. The walls were an impersonal buff, which lent an added dimension to the somewhat limited space.
“There is no special reason why I was selected to start the testing. It was a purely arbitrary decision and in no way is meant to imply that I am either better qualified or more experienced in hypnotic techniques than my colleagues.”
He stood by the chair in the center of the windowless examining room and seemed to address his own image reflected in a rectangular mirror constituting an entire wall. He knew, however, that he was not talking to himself, but to a tightly packed group of people who were exercising their legal right and mandate to watch him and listen to him from the other side of the looking glass.
“You have all received personal and professional data sheets on each member of the examining team which should amply acquaint you with our medical backgrounds and credentials. If further information is required, we will be happy to furnish it at the conclusion of the test.”
He knew that his voice was reaching the principals in this trial through a speaker and that they were probably totally absorbed in what he was saying, displaying neither the restlessness nor the lassitude his lectures ordinarily evoked in his students at the university. But even if there were some shifting about, some clearing of throats and coughing, he would not be aware of it since, like the one-way glass, the room was additionally soundproofed to preserve further the myth of seclusion and privacy.
“Before bringing in the subject of this test, I’d like to say a few words about what we are endeavoring to do here this morning. Hypnosis is neither mysterious nor uncommon and is in wide use today among psychiatrists as a therapeutic means of alleviating the symptoms of certain mental disorders. Hypnosis is the term applied to a state of heightened suggestibility induced by another person.”
He was also aware that his image, as well as his voice, was being transmitted to the recreation hall on the third floor via a small, innocuous TV camera implanted in the upper part of the room above the mirror. Having earlier assessed the rec hall, he knew that more than a hundred people, some from distant parts of the world, were at this very moment hunched over their pads committing his every word to paper.
“Before bringing the subject in, I’d like to add a few words about hypnotic age regression and the level of trance that will be necessary to induce a vivid flow of memories from her earlier life.”
Nineteen people were crammed into a space designed to hold ten. The jury had been given the best seats and were crushed together against the glass, with Judge Langley nestled ceremoniously in their midst. The DA and the defense attorney had the dubious pleasure of sharing a bench in the upper left quarter of the cubicle, directly behind the court reporter, whose steno machine and table took up the space of a person. Hoover, with guard in attendance, sat directly in front of Bill—a proximity that was more than disconcerting to him.
“And after the subject is sufficiently relaxed and reassured that nothing harmful will occur to her, I will use.…”
Janice had excluded herself from the ringside proceedings, electing to join the reporters in the rec hall instead. Her decision, Bill reflected with the same hopeless repetition of grief he felt whenever Janice entered his thoughts now, was clearly motivated by her need to avoid him. She had been successful at doing so ever since he had arrived at the hospital earlier that morning.
“…and once I have determined that the suggestions are working, I will test her to ascertain the depth of her trance. Once that has been satisfactorily established, I will commence to regress her into her past life.”
He should have got to the hospital sooner, Bill knew, but when he had learned from Dominick that Miz Templeton had left in a cab with a heavy suitcase, all he could think about was tying one on. It was a bruising beaut that left him limp and trembling and with a terrifying headache that wouldn’t quit. Even now he felt as if a shaft of hot steel were running through his head from the left ear to the right.
“Oftentime the regression will release a flow of free associations that frequently arouse memories of early emotional events of a traumatic nature. The subject may express feelings of pain or profound melancholy and may even cry out or display bizarre personality changes. I will attempt to keep her away from these painful moments, but understand, this is normal and to be expected in age regression and will not prove harmful or injurious to the child in any permanent way. Also, I will be able to awaken her and bring her out of trance at any point I wish.”
He could have called Janice, Bill thought. Even drunk, he could have at least done that. Displayed some small vestige of parental concern. It had occurred to him of course, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to a telephone. He knew the things she’d say, which was more than he could face.
“What we are attempting this morning is unique in the annals of psychiatry. To regress a subject to a time of early infancy and, even beyond that, to a prenatal period, while it has been achieved in experimental studies, is certainly uncommon enough, but to attempt to take a subject beyond a present life into a former lifetime has never, to my knowledge, fallen within the purview of serious psychiatric inquiry.”