I told him once he’s a multiple too, and he laughed it off with a ‘you wish’ comment. How come people don’t see or want to see their own multiplicity? I know theirs is different from ours, but in the end, it comes from the same place, from how nature has constructed human beings.
“A penny for your thoughts.” He puts the coffee on the table and motions to the gigantic cheese muffin he bought. “In case you change your mind. It’s enough for two.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. To your question, I was thinking about how we met. It feels a long time ago.”
“It’s been over a year. That’s a long time in my books, too. Are you okay?”
I watch him smiling and chewing up the muffin as if nothing bothers him. We are so different it makes me feel a little sad and disconnected. We’re always having to deal with a heap of things that bother us. Sometimes I wish we could forget all the stuff that happened and start all over again with a clean slate.
I dip my head and shrug. “Yes, I am. Finish your coffee and let’s get going.”
I’m impatient and I don’t know why.
Chapter Five
Lilly: 3 March 2017, Midday,
It will rain soon.
Just once it would have been good for the weather to play along. We should be so lucky. The sun has disappeared behind angry-looking clouds moving in from the west. I swing into the car and turn on the heater to take the edge off the chill that’s suddenly in the air.
Tom skims the sky with a troubled expression on his face as he slides into his seat.
“A front is moving in. I hope the weather isn’t putting a stop to our plans.”
Expecting the worst seems to be a habit of lawyers. I’m sure he always needs a chill-pill before he can enjoy his vacation. I laugh and for a moment as I feel superior to this city boy who isn’t used to the rough weather on the West Coast.
“Don’t worry. A little rain and wind never stopped anyone around here. Otherwise, nothing would get done.”
Scottie always says there’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable gear. Although I have to admit, I prefer sitting by the warm fire inside when it rains and storms outside.
The weather on the West Coast is unpredictable and can turn ugly in a matter of minutes. Only greenhorns ignore the signs and go into the bush and high country during bad weather. The trick is to know when it’s safe and when it isn’t, and I’m not the right person to tell people which is which.
We leave the parking lot and snake along the deserted coast.
“You fobbed me off.”
“Me? When? It’s true, people get things done even if it rains and blows.”
“That’s not what I meant. When I asked you how things are.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Oh. So what’s the matter? You are not yourself.”
I think that’s the most hilarious comment I’ve heard today.
“Half of the time I’m not myself, that’s true. This integration business is the pits. Since the court case things are not the same in here.” I tap my hand to my heart and my head. “It’s like walking on shifting sands with no solid ground under our feet.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
I glance over to him. How can I make him understand? “I imagine it’s similar to when you visit a foreign country and you’ve had no time to prepare and inform yourself. They speak a language you don’t understand, they have customs and rules you don’t even know exist, there are no maps to show you the way from A to B, and there is nobody who can translate for you. That’s the best way I can explain. Half of the time we feel lost. What’s even worse, most of the time whatever we do or say simply feels wrong.”
“I thought integration would be a good thing.” Tom looks dispirited as if he’s responsible for our situation. I have to talk him out of that stupid idea.
“I’m sure it will be. Give us some time to get used to it.”
The road is getting windier and I have to switch into a lower gear.
“Also the massive attention the DID thing is getting since the court case is bothering me.”
“I’m so sorry. But wasn’t the idea that people get a better understanding of what dissociative disorders mean?” He frowns and raises his hands in a questioning gesture.
“Sure, I hoped the focus would be on child protection. I hoped they would put together a task force to identify more groups like Gateways. Instead, we became Port Somers’s attraction. We didn’t expect that. You know, like Ohakune has the giant carrot, Paeroa has the giant soft drink bottle; Port Somers now has a famous crazy person. ”
He reaches over, takes my hand, and squeezes it.
“You’ve done a brave thing. At least now we talk about it. People took notice after the court case brought out your story. Never underestimate the impact you had.”
“I don’t know. Elise is terribly disappointed. Rather than looking at what else needs to happen to combat child abuse and child sexual abuse, people and the media go on about whether Dissociative Identity Disorder is real, whether we’ve made it all up, or whether we’re plain schizo and the doctors should force us to take medication.”
“I’m so sorry. I read some of it in the newspapers and wondered how you’re dealing with it.”
“You are sweet, don’t worry. We had hoped by coming forward and telling our story, something would change. But not much has. And I’m at a loss as to what we could have done differently.”
“You’ve done the best you could.”
As
