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Chapter or Story
Part 7
Ashe, New York
As Helen left the room, Sydney bent down beside the sleeping woman and shook her gently, watching her eyelids slowly lift. "Parker, this isn't the nicest place for you to be sleeping."
"It's really nice, Syd." She smiled drowsily. "You should try it. Don't make me get up, please."
"Wouldn't you rather be in bed?"
"Uh uh." She shook her head, blinking sleepily. "I'd have to walk there."
His eyes lit up in amusement. "Do you feel sick?"
"Just... tired... and… a headache..." Her voice trailed off as her eyelids closed and she nestled down even more into the material.
"A headache, huh?" The voice from the doorway spoke in amused tones. "I'm not that surprised."
"Why?" Sydney looked around suspiciously. "Do you know what it is?"
"I do now. Sometime last night she must have accidentally wandered into my lab, right next to her room. A bottle of weak sedative's been knocked over, and some of spilt, soaking into the material that I use for protecting the bench top. There was dry patch of about the same size and shape as a human hand."
Helen bent down next to Miss Parker and gently lifted one of the woman's hands, letting it sag at the wrist.
"This particular hand. Every time she brings her hand up to her face, and you see that she sleeps with it there, she breathes it in. Having been breathing it in for most of the night, she's pretty much overdosed on it, giving her the headache."
Sydney stared at Helen for a moment before laughing. "So she's self-medicating now?"
"It looks that way." Her lips twitched. "We can either leave her to sleep it off here, or put her back to bed. Which would you prefer?"
"I think bed might be better." Sydney reached up and took a cloth down off the sink. "It will wash off, right?"
"Oh, definitely." She watched as Sydney gently wiped Miss Parker's hand and then returned the cloth to the sink.
"Will you wake her up with something or…?"
"No, I'd rather not. As I said, she's overdosed on chemicals right now and I don't want her to have any more than can be helped."
She slipped an arm around the woman's shoulders and raised her into a sitting position. Miss Parker's head rolled onto Helen's arm and her eyes opened, gazing up drowsily at the doctor.
"Can't I stay here?" the brunette begged.
"No, Miss Parker." Helen shook her head. "But we'll get you into bed, and you can sleep there for as long as you want."
Sydney put an around the woman's waist, and the two people nearly carried Miss Parker to her room. Putting her on the bed, they were about to lie her down when the woman's head fall back against the doctor’s shoulder, Miss Parker nestling sleepily up against Helen and putting an arm around her back. The redhead looked up at Sydney with a smile.
"I don't think she wants me to leave."
Gently she began to extricate herself, but the woman whimpered, similar to the sound she had made when Jarod had tried to put her into the car several nights earlier. Her hold around the doctor's waist tightening, the sedated woman nestled closer, her face pressed up against Helen's neck. At the sight, Sydney raised an amused eyebrow.
"Are you going to stay there?"
"Until she falls asleep properly, yes," Helen laughed, sitting beside Miss Parker. "I don't appear to have a choice in the matter."
Reaching up, she stroked the woman's long hair, feeling as she began to relax. Sydney sat down in a chair and watched silently as Helen lowered her voice once more to those hypnotic tones that had been so effective on other occasions.
"That's right, Miss Parker, just relax. I know you're feeling sleepy anyway, and it's all you want to do, fall into that lovely, comfortable darkness all around you. It's all you have to do now. Don't try to stay awake. There's no need. I'm going to lower your head so it rests on my lap instead of my shoulder, and that will be even more comfortable for you. Don't fight me, Miss Parker. I'm not going to hurt you, or to leave you alone. I'll stay right here."
Gently, Helen supported the other woman's head, overcoming slight resistance, until the dark-haired woman was lying down, before Helen recommenced stroking Miss Parker's hair. The woman muttered quietly and moved her head as it rested on the other woman's lap, her arm briefly tensing around Helen's waist and the other hanging down towards the carpet, the fingers lightly brushing the thick pile. Blinking drowsily, she gazed dreamily at the man in the chair opposite her, feeling the gentle touch on her hair and faintly hearing the quiet voice murmuring incomprehensibly above her head.
"Good, isn't that lovely and comfortable now? It's so nice, isn't it, to be here like this, with nothing that you have to do and nowhere to be. You just let your eyes close and relax. I'm sure it's all you want to do now, feeling as sleepy as you do. Your eyelids are so heavy, aren't they? And your arm feels like it should be made out of lead. It's an effort to keep that hand around my waist. You don't have to, not now. Just let it fall down on the bed. I'll still be here. Your head's resting in my lap and you know I'm still here. All you've got to do is close your eyes. Just let them close. It's hard for them to stay open now, so very hard. They don't have to. All they have to do is close."
Close, Sydney thought dreamily as he watched the two women. Just let my eyes close. I'd love to let them do that. It’d be so nice. I shouldn't. I should go up to sit with Jarod. I should go and make some coffee. That’d wake me up. I feel so tired. I didn't sleep much last night. Maybe if I just relax here for a minute, I'll be able to get up and go upstairs. I shouldn't listen to what Helen's saying. I saw what happened last time, with Jarod. I can see what it's doing to Parker. But I want to listen. It's so peaceful and relaxing here, like it was in the car. That seat was so soft, so comfortable. This is, too, and I'd like to rest my head back on the chair. I'd like that so much. I’ll do it, just for a minute. It's lovely to do it, to have it supported by something else, where I don't have to hold it up. That's what Helen said to Jarod, too. She's right. It's very nice. But I won't do it for very long, just a couple of minutes. Then I'll get up...
"That's it." Helen surreptitiously glanced up to see the drowsy look in Sydney's eyes and hid a smile. "Your poor eyelids must be feeling so very heavy by now. I bet you'd love to let them close, wouldn't you? I know you would. They're so heavy and they're starting to get sore now, the same as your poor head. It's so hard to keep them open, to keep looking. You don't have to. There's no need. Not now. Just rest; let me take care of it all. I'll look after everything now."
Helen felt Miss Parker's arm slide down from around her waist onto the bed, and looked down to see the woman's closed eyelids, her lips slightly parted. A quick look at Sydney showed that he was half-asleep, lulled by her tones. Having seen how tired he looked in the kitchen and guessing how little sleep he must have had the night before, she knew it would take very little more encouragement before he would nod off in the chair.
"That's very good. Just relax now. I'm sure you don't want to stay awake. I know that you'd love to be able to just let yourself sleep. It's a wonderful thought, isn't it? That lovely darkness could rise up and take you with it. There's no need for you to try to stay awake. Don't fight it; just let it sweep you away. You've got nothing to stay awake for now. Later, when you wake up, you'll feel so much better, but for now all you have to do is sleep. Just sleep."
Sleep, Sydney thought. Yes I could sleep. I want to sleep. I don't have to do it for very long, just a few minutes. Just long enough to feel better. I feel so tired now. I do want to let myself sleep. It’d be nice. My eyes are feeling so sore now. She's right. I can sleep. She'll take care of them. I won't sleep for long, just a minute or two. It's so awfully hard to stay awake. I'm so tired. This chair is so comfortable too. If I'd known it was so nice, I wouldn't have sat down. I should get up. No, not yet. I'll close my eyes now for a few minutes, then I'll go upstairs again and… and… what was I going to do before? I can't remember now. It can't have been all that important or I'd have remembered. I'll just... let my eyes... close... just... a few... minutes...
"When you're asleep I'll cover you with a nice, warm blanket so that you don't get cold. That’d be nice, wouldn't it? Your head will be lying, just like it is now, on the lovely softness, and you'll have a cozy, warm blanket around your body as you let yourself relax and you can sleep down here for as long as you like."
Feeling that Miss Parker had been asleep for several minutes, she glanced up just in time to see Sydney's eyelids fall and his head roll slightly to one side as he slowly relaxed back into the seat. Gently, still murmuring under her breath, she adjusted the woman so that she was lying properly on the bed and then covered her. Taking another blanket from the cupboard, Helen covered the sleeping man, tucking it in gently. Turning, with a small smile on her face, Helen left the room and went upstairs.
"Mommy?"
"Yes, Debbie?" Helen sat down on the bed and picked up the girl in her arms, feeling the warm body snuggle close to her.
"Where were you?"
"I was looking after Miss Parker, baby."
"Is she still here?" The girl looked up sleepily and yawned. Smiling, Helen started to stroke her hair.
"Yes, sweetheart, but she can't come and see you until you're not sick anymore in case she gets the measles like Jarod did."
"Mmm hmm." Debbie looked up again. "Does he like having his Mommy here?"
"I think so, sweetie."
"I do, too." Resting her head on Helen's shoulder, Debbie closed her eyes, nestling into the woman's neck.
"I'm glad, Debbie."
Helen's voice lowered to a quiet murmur as the girl fell asleep. Helen touched Debbie's forehead with the back of her hand, glad to feel that she wasn't as hot as she had been on other days at the same time.
"Is she getting better?" Broots asked the question as he looked up from the chair in which he had been watching the first hour of that day's T-Board.
"Yes, I think so." Helen placed the limp body of the girl back on the bed. "Usually the fever only lasts for the first couple of days of the rash and she's definitely got that." She opened the girl's pajama top and showed Broots the blotchy skin.
"So how long...?"
"A week to ten days. But she'll begin to feel much better in a few days, except for the cough. She'll also tire more easily for a while."
Broots nodded. "Where's Sydney?"
"Sleeping." Helen's lips twitched. "I managed to… persuade him."
"How do you do that anyway?"
Getting up from the bed, she sat in a chair next to him. "One of my professors was a firm believer that patients would develop resistance to drugs and he wanted to find another method that could be used for calming a person. He eventually felt that 'power of suggestion' was the most effective. Of course, it has its limitations but so do most sedative drugs. That's why I learned it. Working with children, I'm glad I have. It's always been very useful."
"With your 'hobby', that seems vaguely ironic."
"Yes," she laughed. "That's true but I don't usually use my own drugs on patients. It’d be the fastest way to get sued if anything went wrong. I tend to restrict it to my 'criminal' activities."
"You could make a fortune with those."
She grinned. "My activities or my drugs?"
Broots laughed. "You know what I mean."
Helen nodded and became serious. "I wouldn't want to."
"And why not?"
"As my drugs have no side effects, people would use ever increasing amounts of them and it’d be far too easy for them to overdose. I don't want to have to be responsible for that."
Helen quietly opened the door to find Emily sitting on the bed beside her brother and stroking his hair. The man slowly opened his eyes and looked up, smiling faintly.
"Where's Sydney?"
"He's sleeping, Jarod." Helen sat down on the place that Emily vacated. "Sydney's worn out from worrying about you so much."
He nodded slightly. "Did you really… find Mom for me?"
"Of course I did." She smiled. "And for your sister too."
"Thank you." The words were barely audible, as the sick man's eyes closed and he relaxed into sleep.
Helen looked at her friend. "Where's your mother?"
"I talked her into going to bed for a while. I don't know if she'll sleep, but..."
"She'll need to, at some point. This is as good a time as any." Helen stepped away from the bed, steering Emily with her. "Today, or tomorrow, that rash will start to develop and after that his fever will go down. When it happens, he'll be more alert, and is likely to want both of you with him more often. It's a good idea for you both to take advantage of the fact that he's so drowsy right now and get ready for it."
Emily nodded, smiling. "I think he's starting to believe that she's actually here."
Helen looked amused. "And are you?"
Laughing softly, Emily shrugged. "Ask me in a few days. I might actually be able to tell you then."
The Centre
Blue Cove, Delaware
"So we still have the plans for the latest series of projects?"
The man nodded, his lips thin as he glanced over the typed pages. Another Triumvirate member leaned forward.
"What is it?"
"I'm not sure whether we should trust him."
"Mr. Parker?" The other man looked startled. "Why would he do something that might endanger himself? He couldn't have known that the mainframe was going to be damaged, and we could have compared..."
"Except that this was never on the mainframe." The first man slammed a fist on the table, making the glasses jump. "It was felt that potential projects shouldn't be so easily accessible."
"So the only way to know," the third man remarked softly, "is to start every single project from scratch."
Ashe, New York
"How are you feeling, Sydney?"
He stretched, looking up at the woman who stood by the bed. "Better. Much better. What time is it?"
Glancing at her watch, Helen hid a smile. "Almost two."
"What?" His eyes were wide as he stared at her. "But… why didn't you…?"
"Relax. If I'd needed anything, I would have woken you. But everything's fine and has been since you… nodded off." Hiding another smile, she looked down as the woman in the bed stirred. "Miss Parker, are you waking up now?"
"Do I have to?" The voice was sleepy and Helen laughed softly.
"No, you don't have to unless you want to, but I just wanted to make sure it was possible for you to do so. You can go back to sleep if you want to."
"Mmm hmm," the woman murmured as she rolled over onto her side. Helen pulled the bedclothes up so they covered her and then walked to the door, glancing back at Sydney.
"Do you want to come upstairs or are you going to stay down here for a few more hours' sleep?"
Laughing, he stood up, pushing aside his blanket, and walked to the door. As he closed it behind them, he looked at her, eyes narrow.
"You worked your magic on me, right?"
"If you slept during the night, I wouldn't have to." Her expression softened as she glanced at him. "Sydney, he's a lot better. No complications, the rash ought to be breaking out any time now, and you know that's the start of recovery." She smiled as they walked up the cellar stairs. "He asked about you before. I have to confess that I had fears he might see you in your role of pursuer and become agitated but luckily he hasn't."
The psychiatrist nodded. "I had the same concerns. I thought of mentioning them while you were trying to persuade me to sit in the room with him but decided not to borrow trouble."
"He wouldn't have got through the first hours so well if you weren't there. He sees you the way I hoped he would, as a person around whom he's safe." She passed a mug of coffee across the table and watched as he eyed it.
"That 'magic' I mentioned before..."
"...isn't extending to the food and drink I'm making. Sydney, I'm not going to send you back off to dreamland when you just woke up, am I? Besides, I want the chance to sleep myself and I can't do that while you're out."
He nodded, seeing the faint shadows under her eyes. Reaching out a hand, he placed it on hers. "Sleep well, Helen."
"Jarod?"
The man sleepily opened his eyes to find Sydney sitting on the bed next to him with a glass in his hand, forcing out a sentence. "Did you… sleep okay?"
Sydney smiled. "Yes, Jarod, I did. How are you feeling?"
"Am I still sick?"
"Yes, you are. But you're getting better."
An odd expression flickered momentarily in Jarod's eyes, but disappeared before the psychiatrist could work out what it meant. Ignoring it, he slipped one hand behind the head of the other man and supported him while he drank the medicine. When he was once more lying against the pillow, Jarod looked up, his voice drowsy.
"Sydney?"
"What is it?"
"What's this for?"
Looking down, Sydney saw that Jarod was holding up his left hand, covered by the soft cloth bag, and the older man smiled.
"It's to stop you from scratching when the rash breaks out."
"Uh huh." The man let his hand fall back on the bed and closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he fell asleep.
"How's Debbie doing?"
Broots looked up with a smile as Sydney walked into the room. "She's a lot better and Helen says she'll improve quickly over the next few days now the rash is developing." The technician paused. "How did you sleep?"
Sydney rolled his eyes. "Did she tell everybody?"
The younger man grinned. "Probably."
After checking the girl's pulse, Sydney sat down in a chair beside the other man, glancing down at the computer.
"How's the T-Board going?"
"Basically it's over. They're keeping them in the cells for a little longer, while they check they've got everything, but I think it's pretty much finished."
"You almost sound disappointed."
Shrugging, Broots tried to hide a laugh. "Well, it has been fun."
"And what's the final conclusion?"
"They'll have to rebuild the entire mainframe - but you already knew that - and it seems like they don't trust Mr. Parker not to have meddled with the results of the project notes they found in his office, so they're going to have to start them over too. Considering some of them are more than five years old, this sets the Centre back a long way."
Sydney narrowed his eyes briefly. "Is there any way to find out what they were?"
"Well, Helen would know. Why?"
"I think it's likely that they'll haul me up in front of them when we get back so that they can see what I remember of Jarod's simulations. If he was involved in any of those projects, I may need to remember what we did."
Nodding, Broots stared thoughtfully at the floor for a moment and then looked up at his fellow operative. "I was just thinking… Jarod has all the DSAs that he took when he escaped. Although he won't want you to take them back, he might allow you to watch them again, maybe making notes."
"It's a great idea in principle but that would tell them I knew something was going on with the mainframe." The psychiatrist paused. "No, we'll have to come up with something else."
"Daddy?"
At the sound of the voice, Broots got up and walked over to the bed. Sitting down beside her, he picked up the girl and cuddled her.
"What's up, Debbie?"
"Where's Mommy?"
"She's asleep, baby. But she'll come up to spend the night with you again."
"Good." Debbie looked up. "Can I have a drink?"
Picking up the glass of water on the bedside table, he gave it to his daughter who emptied it and then nestled down in her father's lap, her head leaning against his chest. He rocked her and she closed her eyes but, as he moved to get up, she raised her head and spoke sleepily.
"You don't do it like Mommy does."
The technician glanced over at Sydney, who raised an amused eyebrow but kept silent. Broots looked down again and put a hand under the girl's chin, raising her face so that he could see it.
"Well, I don't want to wake Mommy up now, so will you try to sleep for me?"
"Uh huh." Debbie closed her eyes again and rested against him. "I just wanted to tell you that it was different."
As she fell asleep, Broots looked up. "Should I be envious or grateful?"
The psychiatrist laughed softly. "Mothers are instinctively better carers of children than fathers could ever be and Helen's worked with kids for years so she has an even better idea of what works that most women."
"So that explains why you're letting Margaret spend so much time with Jarod?"
"That and the fact that she's seen him once since 1963, yes." Sydney examined the floor. "I can understand how she must feel about me. If this situation was the reverse, I'd probably feel the same way." He looked up sheepishly. "Truthfully, I think I'm probably avoiding her as much as anything."
"You can't do it for ever."
"No, I know. And once Jarod's better, we'll probably have to talk."
"Or we could do it now."
The two men looked up to find the woman standing in the doorway, one hand still resting on the doorknob, and a faint smile on her face.
"I was going to suggest that, as Jarod's asleep and Broots is here with Debbie, it might be time we had that discussion, maybe while making dinner?"
Nodding, Sydney got out of the chair and walked over to the door, glancing back once over his shoulder before leaving the room.
"What's for dinner?"
The two occupants of the kitchen turned to find Helen leaning against the closed door leading to the cellar.
"How's Parker?" Sydney asked.
"That drug's worn off and she's still showing no symptoms, so Broots should stop having to fear vengeance soon, I think." Grinning, she opened the fridge and took out a can of drink. "How are my patients?"
"Both improving. Jarod doesn't have to stop after every other word to catch his breath and Debbie wasn't too feverish when I checked on her. They've both got a good amount of sleep today too."
"Good." Helen glanced at her watch." Their temperatures will probably go up a bit as the evening wears on but that's not unusual." She looked slyly at the other two people. "Will we reorganize the shifts or will we leave things as they are?"
"That depends on you, Helen." Sydney turned, eyeing her knowingly. "Are you happy with having to stay up all night?"
"As long as you can cope with staying awake all day." She grinned. "I got an idea that it seemed a little tricky today."
"And whose fault was that?" He gave her a mock-glare. "I never asked to be sent to sleep against my will."
"Yes, it looked like it was against your will, too," she teased. "You were fighting so hard when you put your head back against the chair, shut your eyes and…"
"Thank you," he interrupted sharply. "Why don't you leave us to keep cooking and go up to check on your patients?"
"I just don't think you want to talk to me anymore," she laughed. "But I can take a hint..."
Helen glanced up from her book in the early hours of the morning to see the bedroom door open. Margaret peeped in and the doctor closed the book immediately.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, as such, but he's awake and wanted to know if you'd go in and see him."
"Your son’s getting demanding?" Helen rolled her eyes and grinned at Margaret as she stood up. "He must be recovering quickly!"
Margaret smiled. "I'll stay here, if you like."
"Thanks, that'd be good. I don't expect her to wake up, but she might."
She slipped silently into the other bedroom and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it as Jarod's eyes opened and he looked at her.
"Demanding me, huh? You must be feeling better."
He smiled faintly and tried to sit up, but she prevented it.
"No, Jarod, try to sleep again."
"You said I didn't have to lie down when you were here."
She laughed quietly. "You aren't that sick anymore. That was a useful expedient to keep you still, but I don't think you're silly enough to move around so much now that you'll exhaust yourself and make everything worse."
"It doesn't mean I don't want to sit up." He smiled. "I said it was nice."
Leaning forward, she gently stroked his hair. "Your mother would willingly sit like that for hours."
"I know." He eyed her. "Did you have another reason for finding her than just to bring her here for Em and me?"
"That's very perceptive." She looked at him in mock-admiration. "They don't call you a genius for nothing, do they?"
He grinned half-heartedly. "Well?"
"You really are getting demanding."
As he raised an eyebrow, she laughed again.
"I had a couple of other little reasons as well, but your question was the catalyst."
"And they were?"
"I wanted to be able to spend more time with Debbie. She misses me if I'm not by her bed."
"You're taking her mother's place."
Helen nodded. "You know how that feels."
"And the other little reason?"
"It's a very selfish one."
Jarod smiled faintly as she stood up. "You really like her, huh?"
"If I didn't like you and Em so much I'd probably be very jealous of both of you. Still, when you're better, maybe we can have more of those long talks that I used to love." Gently she resettled the blankets around him. "That's enough talking for now, Jarod. You still need to sleep. You aren't better yet."
"When will I be?"
She turned his head gently to one side, noting the brighter pink of the skin behind his ears as the rash started to develop. "You'll be less feverish in a few days, and then you'll improve by leaps and bounds, to the point that I'll probably have to tie you down or send your mother in to keep you in bed or something."
Jarod's voice and face were calm. "I'm terrified."
"You should be. You’ve got no idea what your mother's capable of. She often had me shaking in my shoes at school, regardless of the fact that I wasn't ever the person she was angry at."
He raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe it."
"Just wait and see. But I'm warning you, for your own sake, when she tells you to do something, make sure you do or you'll know all about it." She looked down at him sternly. "And that counts for me, too, you know."
Yawning, he nodded and rolled over onto his side, facing the door. Helen smiled, gently stroking his hair again as his eyes closed, before she turned to the door and left the room.
"Did she wake up?"
"No." Margaret got up from the chair and came over to the door. "Is he okay?"
"Fine." Helen smiled. "If the truth be known, I think he just wanted to see me. He had better hope that Miss Parker doesn't get sick because, if she does, he won't lay eyes on me and I'm sure he won't like that."
"Nor will the rest of us." Margaret smiled. "I don't want to lose my prize pupil now that I've got her back, you know."
"Why did you stop writing to me?" Helen leaned against the doorframe, her arms folded. "While I can understand why you left Philadelphia, why did you stop sending me emails and letters?"
"I was concerned that if they found me, the trail would lead them to you. I didn't want to put you in danger."
"Do you really think they would have bothered about someone of non-genius and non-Pretender potential?"
"I didn't know what they might 'bother about', Helen, and I hated the thought that you might be in danger simply as a result of knowing me."
Helen raised an eyebrow. "If you knew what my favorite out-of-hours activity is, you'd be able to really appreciate the irony of that statement."
Margaret eyed her severely. "'Out-of-hours' or out of all legal boundaries? Do you know what would happen to you if you were caught?"
"I’d hire your son as my lawyer and get off with a warning."
The older woman tried to hide a smile. "Be that as it may..."
"All I wanted to do was help you. I owe you a huge debt and that was a way I felt I could begin to repay it."
"You don't owe me anything, not now."
"Margaret, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here now to care for Jarod, or been able to care for your daughter. Believe me, after that, everything else seems small."
"Mom?"
The voice from the next room interrupted the conversation and Margaret walked in to that room while Helen went in and checked on Debbie.
Helen came into the kitchen early the next morning to find Miss Parker pouring hot water from the kettle into a jug.
"I thought you were given explicit directions not to get up before seven."
With a half-smile, the woman put the jug on the table and sat down, watching as the doctor took a seat opposite.
"As I slept so much yesterday..."
Helen laughed. "Self-medicating or trying to overdose, Miss Parker? Because I'd have helped you find far better and more powerful things for you to use in either circumstance. You really only had to ask."
"It was an accident, really."
"Do you remember doing it?"
Miss Parker shook her head. "I have a vague memory of my hand feeling wet, but I just thought it was a very vivid dream."
"Well, just in case you decide to try it again some other night, I've started to lock the door of that room when I'm not in it."
"You never know, I might, particularly as it gives me such a wonderful excuse for what I did. Have you ever slept on a huge pile of sheets? It's very comfortable."
"So you said yesterday," Sydney sat down at the table with a small laugh, "during your involuntary nap."
"And what did you say during yours?" the woman returned smartly.
"He didn't say a lot," Helen smiled. "At least, I don't think he did. I left the two of you there to sleep so if he did say anything, you're the only person to have heard it."
"And, after her soothing talk, I very much doubt you heard anything, Parker."
Helen rested her chin on her hands and looked over at the other woman. "I'd like you to tell me something."
"If I know the answer..." came the cautious response.
"I know that this will probably be hard, but do you ever dream that either Thomas or your mother are still with you?"
"Why?" The voice adopted some of the hard tones that Miss Parker often used at the Centre.
"The start of this will sound vague but bear with me. When I began training as a pediatrician, we were given the basic education of child psychology. One of the first things we learned was how to understand if a child was scared of being left alone or abandoned. Although the idea isn't usually relevant to adults, it shows itself in some people when they're sick or sedated. Jarod, in only one example, clung to my hand during the first day he was sick, because he couldn't bear the thought of being left alone. You clung to Jarod when he was trying to put you into the car and held on to me yesterday when I would have left you to sleep off the sedative. It's normal, in people who do it to the extent and for the length of time you both did, to learn that they've often either lost or been abandoned by a person who's important to them, as both of you were."
"Is that true?" Miss Parker looked at Sydney sharply and he nodded.
"During their lifetime, most adults develop a barrier that stops them from sinking back to the level of fear of being abandoned, or at least returns them to adult confidence again very quickly. If the person's suffered in the way Helen described, they sink to that level of fear more easily and stay there for longer."
"Such people," Helen continued, "also like the feeling of close contact to another person at such a time. It increases the feeling of security, even if the person is a relative stranger. That's why you, Jarod and Debbie subconsciously found it very comforting to be close to me, particularly where you could hear my heartbeat. It's the same reason people place ticking clocks near puppies. It will add to the idea that a mother-figure is nearby and makes them feel safer."
Miss Parker looked back at Helen as she finished this and her face bore a hint of resentment. "So what does that have to do with Thomas or Momma?"
Gazing down at the table for a moment, Helen finally raised her head. "If you are going to get sick then I want to know the right things to say. I can guess at it with Jarod because I've got a better idea of what he went through. I can ask Debbie's father if I need to. But I don't know about you. I don't know if it’d be comforting for me to suggest what I did with Jarod - that he should dream his mother was next to him. It isn't possible for me to bring your mother to your bedside the way I did with Margaret and I hope you'll forgive me if I don't bring your father here."
The other woman gave a half-smile at the last idea before she spoke. "What you say does make sense but I wouldn't know..."
"...what to say. That's all right; I can understand it. I would have been surprised if you'd been able to give me a list."
The man looked up. "It would have to be admitted, Helen, that you’ve got a pretty good instinct of the right things to say by what you went through yourself."
"To a certain extent, Sydney, I'd agree with that but I was only five when I lost my whole… both my parents," she corrected herself with an unseen smile. "I was too young to know the full extent of what I'd lost and I had other 'parents' to take their place. In fact," she laughed, "I was probably in real danger of being mothered too much, at least for the first few years. But by ten years of age, children are usually aware of the total extent of their loss. Jarod wasn't much older than that when he was told that he had lost his parents and he must have felt it too." She glanced at the silent psychiatrist. "And you were a similar age when your parents were killed so you know how much a child of that age understands. I don't."
"This is making the assumption that I'm going to get sick," Miss Parker interjected abruptly.
"It's also making the assumption that you'll want your mother or Thomas if you do get sick. But it's something I've been thinking about and this seems like as good a time to mention it as any." She reached forward, putting a hand on that of the other woman. "I don't like saying things that cause people pain as I know this will, but it would be worse, a lot worse, if it were all to come out when you were sick. I doubt any of us would want you to have to face it then, not when you'll need all of your strength for getting better, not for a fresh bout of grieving."
The people at the table watched as the woman descended the stairs to the cellar. After a moment Sydney looked over at Helen.
"Do you really not feel anything for your parents?"
"I don't not feel anything. They're still a tangible part of my life." Reaching into her pocket, Helen took out her purse and extracted two photographs that she handed to Sydney. "I've had those for my entire life and I've built emotional ties with their faces, but I can't really remember them. When I try to think of my mother, one of the nuns comes to mind, and a priest who used to come and visit me sometimes was, to a certain extent, able to take the place of my dad. But then I turned fifteen and got ample opportunity to find out what I was lacking."
"When you got sick?"
"Yes. That was when I realized how much I'd missed out on, not having parents. I was lying in my hospital ward with seven other children and each day, as soon as visiting hours started, the room would be full of parents, or at least mothers. But I never had a single visitor. The nun who, in my mind, had taken the place of my mother, died before I turned fourteen, and the others were all too busy to visit me. I was very sick after the first operation, too sick to notice that I was different from the others, but, as I got better, I could see what I was missing. I know about clingy children, not just because of what I learned in a lecture, although I did hear about it there also, but because I was one. One nurse, knowing I was an orphan, used to spend her off-duty hours with me. Finally the doctor saw how attached I'd become and believed that it would be bad for me."
"Because you would leave the hospital when you recovered?"
"Exactly. He convinced the head nurse to give her time off and encouraged her to go, telling her I'd be fine. That night, when she thought I was asleep, she came in and said goodbye, getting her emotions off her chest by telling them to me."
"And you heard them?"
"Every word." Helen spoke somewhat bitterly. "I was far too sick to open my eyes but not too sick to close my ears, especially to someone who meant that much to me. So I was burdened not only with my feelings about it, but hers as well. A couple of days later I was operated on for the second time."
"The hysterectomy." Sydney sat back in his chair, his eyes full of compassion, as Helen nodded.
"The nurses had been warned that I was a clingy child who would get attached to anybody that showed the least sign of emotion. They all kept at a distance and the only time I felt hands on my skin was when my bandages were being changed or my pulse was being taken."
Helen paused.
"When I was studying, we were told of a psychological experiment where Rhesus monkeys were deprived of contact to see what would happen. It made me feel as if I'd been the subject of an experiment too." She sighed sadly. "That's why I was so angry when I saw what the Centre did. The vendetta began because of what I heard from Margaret but it intensified when I saw what was being done to Jarod and the others there."
