We see our existence as an act of love born through the unbelievable creativity of a young child. When bad things happened to Elizabeth and she couldn’t tolerate it any longer, she went ‘away’ and a new part got created, a part that could hold on. Each and every one of us came along to help, including you. We didn’t ask for it. Perhaps, mother nature or God just made it happen to help Elizabeth get through stressful and painful times.
As the body is getting older, the coping mechanisms of dissociation are getting in the way. We can see that. It stops us from dealing with the cause of pain and keeps us a prisoner of the past. Will you work together with us?
I’m Lilly. If you want me to, I’ll tell you more about myself next time.
Whoa. I’m glad I’m sitting because I don’t trust my wobbly legs right now. The inside of my head turns again into a loud choir. I guess if this Lilly is right, I’ve got myself a bunch of musical friends. I feel the urge to laugh, but out comes only a resigned gurgling.
I could do with a second cup of tea and need to give my fingers another cooling treatment. I look over to the kettle, but my legs don’t seem able to move.
“Hey, internal friends, can you make my legs work?”
All of a sudden, my head is quiet. Eerily quiet.
“No, no, don’t run away. I don’t like silence. It creeps me out.”
As I expect, nobody answers. I reach for the notebook and read Lilly’s letter again.
Chapter Thirteen
Lilly: 20 November 2015, Morning, Tree House
It’s not even eight o’clock and we are already on high alert again. Where is the Grinch who stole my beautiful, tranquil, sun-drenched Friday morning? Not that I had many of those in the past. But today is off to an even worse start. Maddie had a massive flashback last night. Fear as sharp as knives is still burning through the body. For a while, I listen inside to its source. It’s the young ones who feel its vividness and power.
They show me their memories of the cloaked shape waiting in the recesses of their mind. If it weren’t for the lifeless, powder gray holes where eyes should have been, I could dismiss the memory as the night’s shadows playing tricks on their minds. But someone or something was there. I felt it too. Whatever frightened the kiddies was real.
In our attempt at panic control, we rallied around Maddie to make her as comfortable as possible, totally forgetting the body. That sent Elise, who woke up at the foot of the tree where Maddie left the body, into one of her I-can’t-stand-life-like-this spins. In his frustration, Amadeus slammed the door on her hand. So, we have only one functioning hand at the moment. The unexpected, yet positive outcome was she snapped out of her poor-me, semi-suicidal state. We don’t have time for that going on.
“Who else noticed the dark shadow right after Maddie passed out? It flushed through the room like hell’s angels.”
We all sit on pillows in the common room for our meeting. Ama, our relict from the 19th Century calls it a tribal council. She’s watching way too much TV that woman. I’m surprised she hasn’t brought torches for each of us as they have in the Survivor series on TV.
When I look up, I have a dozen pairs of eyes resting on me in puzzled incomprehension. I’d love a pocket mirror right now to check whether I have a smudge on my nose, or a piece of spinach stuck between my front teeth. It can’t be spinach. I haven’t had spinach this Century.
“Am I the only one paying attention? Didn’t Miss Marple say more than once we have to stop being specialists and become all-rounders, showing interests beyond our original job-description and paying attention?”
“Easier said than done. She talked about integration. She even used the ill-fated coffee and milk metaphor. It’s stupid. As if we could flick a switch labeled integration and it all happens just like that.” Luke raises his hands signaling he wants nothing to do with such a crazy notion. I totally understand him. How can anyone expect us to work toward a thing we don’t know? Don’t you have to have at least an idea, a vision, or something like that?
“The whole integration idea is ludicrous. I want someone to explain it to me intelligently and not treat me like a moron. Coffee and milk? Really? Are we staples you pick from the pantry when guests come visiting out of the blue? Or are we individuals with dreams and needs? What if we can’t do it and get stuck somewhere in-between?” Amadeus’ voice is blasting so loud through the room Ama has to shush him.
“Don’t wake the kids. Perhaps integration is like Europe.” Ama pauses and looks for words.
“Europe? You can’t be sérieux.” I’m surprised Lizette has an opinion about something other than clothing and men.
Ama puts her knitting aside. “Yes, Europe. What used to be twenty-odd individual countries, each with its own borders, currency, traditions, and language is now one union without borders.”
Phoenix shakes his head. “Being Europe is not a helpful concept. I’m more concerned about what happens if we do manage to integrate. Would that mean some of us would become redundant and be put on a junk heap for spare parts in case other parts break? If I can feel Maddie’s feelings, does that mean she is not needed anymore and has to go away? I couldn’t do that to her. And where would she go?”
Sky, who’s listened to the arguments, puts up her hand to stop us. “We’re confused about the concept of integration and won’t solve it now. Let’s shelve it for a later date when we
