“What is your real name?”
Jane frowned. “I… don’t remember.”
“Where did you come from?”
“The hospital.”
“Before that.”
“Nowhere.”
A bead of saliva glistened at the corner of the girl’s mouth. Languorously, she licked it away before it could drool down her chin.
Carol said, “Honey, do you remember the Mickey Mouse watch you saw a few minutes ago?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ve taken that watch from the shelf,” Carol said, though she hadn’t moved from her chair. “And now I’m turning the hands on it backwards, around and around the dial, always backwards. Can you see the hands moving backwards on that Mickey Mouse watch?”
“Yes.”
“Now something amazing is happening. As I turn those hands backwards and backwards, time itself begins to flow in reverse. It isn’t a quarter past eleven any more. It’s now eleven o’clock. This is a magic watch. It governs the flow of time. And now it’s ten o’clock in the morning… nine o’clock… eight o’clock…. Look around you. Where are you now?”
The girl opened her eyes. They were fixed on a distant point. She said, “Ummm… the kitchen. Yeah. The breakfast nook. Boy, the bacon’s nice and crisp.”
Gradually, Carol moved her back in time, back through the days she had spent in the hospital, finally regressing to the accident last Thursday morning. The girl winced as she relived the moment of impact, and cried out, and Carol soothed her, and then they went back a few minutes further.
“You’re standing on the sidewalk,” Carol said.
“You’re dressed only in a blouse and jeans. It’s raining. Chilly.”
The girl closed her eyes again. She shivered.
“What’s your name?” Carol asked. Silence.
“What’s your name, honey?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where have you just come from?”
“Nowhere.”
“You mean you have amnesia?”
“Yes.”
“Even before the accident?”
“Yes.”
Although she was still very concerned about the girl, Carol was relieved to hear that she wasn’t responsible for Jane’s condition. For a moment she felt like that blue kite, capable of soaring up and away.
Then she said, “Okay. You’re about to step into the street. Do you just want to cross it, or do you intend to walk in front of a car?”
“I… don’t… know.”
“How do you feel? Happy? Depressed? Indifferent?”
“Scared,” the girl said in a small, shaky voice.
“What are you scared of?” Silence.
“What are you scared of?”
“It’s coming.”
“What’s coming?”
“Behind me!”
“What’s behind you?”
The girl opened her eyes again. She was still staring at a distant point, but now there was stark terror in her eyes.
“What’s behind you?” Carol asked again.
“Oh God,” the girl said miserably.
“What is it?”
“No, no.” She shook her head. Her face was bloodless.
Carol leaned forward in her chair. “Relax, honey. You will relax and be calm. Close your eyes. Calm… like the kite… far above everything… floating… warm.”
The tension went out of Jane’s face.
“All right,” Carol said. “Staying calm, always relaxed and calm, you will tell me what you’re afraid of.”
The girl said nothing.
“Honey, what are you scared of? What’s behind you?”
“Something…”
“What?”
“Something…”
Patiently, Carol said, “Be specific.”
“I… don’t know what it is… but it’s coming… and it scares me.”
“Okay. Let’s go back a bit further.” Using the image of the backwards-moving hands on the Mickey Mouse wristwatch, she regressed the girl another full day into the past. “Now look around. Where are you?”
“Nowhere.”
“What do you see?”
“Nothing.”
“You must see something, honey.”
“Darkness.”
“Are you in a dark room?”
“No.”
“Are there walls in the darkness?”
“No.”
“Are you outdoors at night?”
“No.”
She regressed the girl another day. “Now what do you see?”
“Just the darkness.”
“There must be something else.”
“No.”
“Open your eyes, honey.”
The girl obeyed. Her blue eyes were vacant, glassy. “Nothing.”
Carol frowned. “Are you sitting or standing in that dark place?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you feel under you? A chair? A floor? A bed?”
“Nothing.”
“Reach down. Touch the floor.”
“There isn’t a floor.”
Uneasy about the direction the session was taking, Carol shifted in her chair and stared at the girl for a while, wondering what to try next.