The Terror Zone

CHAPTER FOUR

Good morning, Kerry. How was your weekend?” I asked.

“Quiet, Jeff and I went to the woods hiking and camped out for the night. It was a great relaxing weekend.”

“Paul and I went camping too, but it was not as quiet and relaxing as your weekend.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kerry.

“Oh, I will tell you later. I would rather not dredge it all up again. It is too much to fathom right now.”

“Mr. Chatterly called and left a message for you. He said, “His lawyer got him out on bail and that he would be in to your office this morning.”

“That’s wonderful news. You can just send him in. I’ll be ready for him,” I said, walking to my office.

“Good morning Mr. Chatterly. Dr. Susan is expecting you. You may go right in.” said Kerry, pointing to the hallway.

“Mr. Chatterly, how nice to see you again. Please come in,” I said, shutting the door behind us.

My office was suitably large. I had a mahogany desk with a matching computer stand, and one wall had bookshelves with a large rolling ladder. On the other side of the room were two stuffed chairs and a lounge sofa, which I sat in front of a stained-glass wall-sized window of squares. It, after all, was my second home. I decorated it myself. It was peaceful yet businesslike.

“Please sit down, Mr. Chatterly. I am anxious to get started.”

“What would you like me to talk about, Doc?”

“I think we should start with the basics first, so I can get to know you better. Can you tell me everything you remember from when you were a boy?”

“Alright. Like I told you before, I don’t remember much. I have bits and pieces in my head, but nothing solid to hang on to. I don’t remember the orphanage. I guess I was too young. I do, however, remember one person when I was there. Her name was Vicki. I can’t for the life of me remember what her last name was. She was very thin, had brown hair, and weighed about one hundred pounds. She stood about five-foot-six and she was very nice to me. She would hold me in her arms and read me stories at night when I had nightmares.”

“Can you tell me about your mother? Do you remember anything about her? Anything at all?”

“I told you, I do not remember her. I guess I was to young.”

“What about these dreams you say you have? Do you remember when they started?”

“What do you mean, I say I have? Don’t you believe me? If you don’t believe me, then I think I need to leave,” he said, angrily. He got up and started walking toward the door.

“No wait, please, Mr. Chatterly. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just don’t know all the facts and I guess I worded that wrong. Please, sit back down, and let’s try again.”

He appeared hesitant and then slowly walked back to the couch.

“I’m scared, Doc. I don’t want to find out that it is I doing those horrible things. I know I cannot be capable of such heinousness.”

“Let’s start there for a minute.” I said. “Tell me about the first dreams you had.”

“Well, I remember the dreams starting when I was just a little boy. I would see me looking up a girls’ dress. She let me. She would tease me and tell me to play doctor with her. She would be the patient, and I was the doctor.”

“What did the little girl look like?”

“She had white blond hair and a little chubby face. There were always other boys with me, and they would watch us play and take turns. She would play with my, she would, um, we would examine each other. You know, our privates. I knew it was wrong, but she told me we weren’t being bad, because we loved each other.”

“What did these other boys look like?” I asked.

“They looked like me,” said George.

“What do you mean, like you? Did they have the same color hair? Did they wear the same clothes? Were they your age? Did you know them? Were they your friends?”

“They were me,” said George.

“They looked like you?” I asked.

“No Doc, they were me.” George said, obviously getting frustrated.

“Okay, let's move on to a different subject, for now. Do you remember any other dreams?”

“Yes. When I was a teenager, I was on a date with a girl. We were at the Sarasota Zoo. She was wearing a tank top with a blue jean skirt. She kept teasing me. Asking me why I didn’t kiss her. Brushing her body against mine and hugging me and then running. I saw me chasing her and pushing her up against the lion’s cage and watching the lion tear at her clothes and, then bite off her hand. It was horrible, the screaming. She ran away, and the police questioned me. They put me in a home for bad boys. I was there nine months before they let me out to live with another couple. My other parents wanted nothing to do with me after that. I didn’t do it. I wasn’t there. I only saw it happen. Every time I told someone what I saw, they would punish me for what I hadn’t done. It happened so often that I stopped telling people. I trusted them but they would still treat me like a leper! Like a bad seed or be terrified of me. Then when I was out for few months, I saw that girl under a bridge by the ocean. She still teased me. She only had one hand so I knew it was she. She wouldn’t stop teasing me, so I hit her in the face, and she fell to the ground. I lay on top of her holding her arms with one hand while kissing her. She liked it. She kissed back. She told me to touch her breasts, so I did. Then she told me to touch her panties, so I did. I pulled her panties down and touched her privates. She liked it. She moaned and stopped fighting. I took my pants off and tried to push myself into her. She started to scream. I put my hand over her mouth and kept shoving. I raped her. I raped her,” he said, as tears flowed down his cheeks and sweat poured off his body.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I said. “Please try to calm down George. How old were you when this happened?”

“I think I was seventeen. I don’t think she ever told anyone, because no one came to get me! I felt terrible, so I went to her house to apologize, or maybe just to see if it was real. She screamed at me through the door. She told her mother not to let me in. They slammed the door in my face, and I never saw her again.”

“What was her name George?”

“Sally. Her name was Sally Frampton.”

“We are running out of time George. I have another client in a few minutes, but I’d like to question you some more about the children that have been in the newspaper. Can you tell me anything else about them?”

“I think I know where some more of the children are. I don’t know if they are alive, but they are trapped in a warehouse?”

“Good lord, George, you should have led with that first thing! What kind of warehouse?”

“I don’t know. It has papers in it. Old dirty papers and there’s dirt on the floors, with puddles of water. The children are cold and hungry. Once in a while, I see me bringing them scraps of food. I want them to be scared. I say mean things to them. I tell them their parents aren’t coming to save them. I tell them nobody loves them. I push them to the ground and they aren’t aloud to touch me or talk to me.”

Startled back into reality, the phone rings. By this time, I am shaking like a leaf and I feel those horrid goosebumps again.

“Yes Kerry, what is it?”

“Mrs. Silverman is here for her session.”

“Of course, could you tell her I cannot see her today. Please apologize for me, Kerry. I have an emergency here, and I need to take care of it immediately.”

The phone rings, again.

“Susan, Mrs. Silverman is angry but she said she would make another appointment. What’s wrong?” asked Kerry.

“I can’t explain right now, Kerry. Please clear my calendar for today, and I’ll give details later.”

“Yes, Susan,” said Kerry.

Picking up my purse and taking my car keys out, I was distracted as I thought, I need more information from George before I go head-on into this endeavor.

“George, I know I’ve already asked you this question, but I feel like you weren’t honest with me. Why did you insist on me? Why did you choose me?”

“I saw you. I saw you in my dream. I know that your daughter is one of the missing children. I didn’t see your daughter’s face, but I saw you sleeping on the couch in the living room when I took your daughter! I mean when someone took your daughter.”

“George, I have to ask a favor of you. I want to try to hypnotize you, so I can possibly find the warehouse you speak of. Can I get your permission?”

“Of course, Doc. Anything to help,” commented George.

“Okay, George, Please, relax and watch the metronome tick back and forth. Concentrate on the metronome and nothing else. You are lying on the beach and the warm sun is caressing your body. It is enveloping your whole being and making you sleepy. You are relaxing from your head to your toes, as if you were lying in a warm bath. You feel soothed and comfortable, and your eyelids are getting heavy. So heavy, in fact, that you can’t hold them open. You shut your eyelids to ease the sensation and it relieves your anxiety. You are fading into a deep sleep. Deeper and deeper until you cannot hear the pendulum ticking anymore. All you hear is my voice and the sound of ocean splashing against the sand. Are you there, George? Do you feel relaxed and hear the waves slapping on the sandy shore?”

“Yes,” said George.

“Describe what you see, George.”

“I see nothing but sand and ocean. No people, only beach for miles.”

“That’s wonderful George,” I said. “Can you take me to the warehouse, the one where the children are? Can you do that George?”

As I question him, I am recording our session and the answers he gives.

“Yes, I am floating to the warehouse.”

“Can you read the signs, George? Can you tell me what the signs say?”

“I’m in the low rent district. One of the signs reads Harbor Drive. I’m traveling west, going under a bridge, and so far I’ve passed three stoplights. I’m slowing down. I’ve arrived at the warehouse. It’s on the northeast corner of Harbor and Chase.”

“Is there a name on the building, George?”

“Mariners Rent-A-Space. It’s dark. There aren’t any lights. It looks like, wait, it’s not a warehouse. It’s a dock with boats tied to it. There is one large boat and several small boats.”

“Does the big boat have a name?”

“I can’t read it from here. I’ll get closer. It reads Five Musketeers. There’s music playing. I don’t know what it’s called, but I remember it from when I was a little boy. The words “hush little babies." Don’t say a word. Yes, ‘Mockingbird’ …It’s the Mockingbird song. I remember mommy singing that song to me when I was a baby. Oh No! George screamed. It can’t be. It’s me… I’m there…noooo! It can’t be. I’m cutting a baby open with a knife. No, stop! Stop this is insanity, stop!” screeched George.

“George, I am going to count to three, and you are going to wake up, only to remember what we talked about and feeling fine. One, two-“

“No, the baby, I’m throwing the baby over the bow. I see it hitting the water, I’m watching it sink!” screamed George.

“And three…Are you all right George? How do you feel?”

“I’m fine. I feel rested. Did I help you? Yes, I remember we found a boat with, Oh my god!” George screamed again.

“You’re okay George. Stay calm. I’m afraid we need to stop for now. If you don’t mind, I’d like to see you tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Is that okay with you?” I asked.

“Sure Doc, but I didn’t do those things I saw. Honest, I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Okay, George. See Kerry on your way out and set up an appointment for tomorrow morning.”