Silence at the other end. But not a longsilence as human data banks scanned and searched.
“Have you had any thoughts of harmingyourself?”
“No.” Liddy opened her eyes; felt them stingand fill.
“That’s good. It’s very good.” The voicebecame comforting. “You’ve been under great stress. The main cause as we’vediscussed would be your accident, traumatic in itself, plus your concussionwhich may have left emotional issues if not specific neural damage. Seeing orsensing some, uh, ‘being’ connects to feelings of desperation, and is morecommon than you might think.”
“I didn’t sense a being, I sawit, maybe sleepwalking but it sure seemed real.” Liddy gripped her phonehard as a tear spilled down her cheek. “A blond female ghost, hanging by theneck.”
Another silence, a brief one. “Then we mustdiscuss the significance of hallucinations, perhaps schedule you for another lookat the possibility of neurological damage. I’ve reviewed your case history anddon’t believe that to be the case, however. Mainly, I think we should return tothe source of your issue. The accident, and why it happened.”
“I don’t know.” Liddy hunchedforward. “I’ve told you and told you, I just don’t remember - whatgood has going on and on about ‘returning to the source’ done?” She swiped furiouslyat another tear. Minton was droning, something else about hallucinations butshe wasn’t hearing; was squeezing her eyes shut with her shoulders bunched andone hand holding an imaginary rope to the other side of her head ready to joinCharlie and Sasha until, thank God, the droning stopped and she could finallysay Yes, agreeing to the five o’clock appointment.
Then she hung up. Stared at her drawing withher eyes streaming.
Well that spoiled it. She’d found a wholehalf hour’s peace, the shrink had made her crazy again, and the colors in hermind were gone. Thin, dead pencil lines faced her, just empty souls on paper,stillborn.
She picked up her pencil, at least. Itbelonged there, in her hand squeezing it tight tight tight to hold down hersense of helplessness, the bigger gale of tears that threatened. Then she saw asmall face peer up at her, feeling the same, feeling just as terrified with roundeyes that begged, wings that struggled to open and flee. So she gulped air anddove into the paper again, rescuing that little fairy, and then another and thenanother, nearly forgetting her thudding heart as the hours flew and her pencilflew, filling out wings and the delicate lift of arms as each delicate being fledthe griffin nearly upon them with claws splayed viciously.
Quick. Colors.
With a jerky motion she grabbed the sponge.Dipped it in water, squeezed it but not too much, then ran it across the drawingfor the blurred effect of adding watercolor to moist paper. She was excited again.No, she was in a frenzy, desperate to get this painting right – highlyemotional like what she was feeling, so she reached down to the side of thetable for the wheel and raised the drawing; tilted it up so it wasnearly vertical.
Perched now on her tall stool, she went towork with bigger brushes first, diving into colors and mixing, applying thefirst gauzy layer that sank in fast, absorbed to make a brightly violent,orange-pink background. Sunrise or sunset? Either. Liddy’s hands guidedthemselves. Small brushes flew next, swished in water, mixed colors, added layersof burnt orange, gold ochre, light brown and pale charcoal for the crag thefairies had to escape…work from light to dark, always in watercolors… Faces terrifiedand terrorizing came to life; brushes heavy with watered crimson and cadmium andcobalt violet smeared on and dripped brightly. Liddy caught the drips andbrushed them into wind and the griffin’s snorting and then crashing lightning inraw sienna – oh…
Oh…
She stepped back.
Raw sienna, not so good for the lightning, andshe’d mixed the brush into too much water and the sienna was dripping into thecrimson, the colors mixing and dripping down into the white and rose she’dmixed for clouds and...
Liddy took another step back.
From the bright wetness a face was emerging.Long hair in the cadmium yellow mixed for the lightning. White, rose and peachblending into woeful eyes that wept and begged.
Breath stopped. Liddy’s heart stopped too aswords emerged and dripped beneath the face.
Help me,said the words.
Her hands went to her cheeks as she sawthem, clearly. No doubting this, not sleepwalking…the face and those words werethere, dripping. Liddy’s heart slammed as she stood, transfixed, imprisoned bythose colors that dripped and coalesced, changed but still…still there, thewords and the face. The eyes sagging now, looking straight at her, begging,begging.
“What can I do?” Liddy whimpered, barely hearingherself over the drumming in her ears. “What can I do?” she cried, feeling herwhole soul wrenched out of her.
The grieving face floated, as if inpermanent, begging limbo, resisting the pull of other too-wet colors slidingdown.
The words stayed too: Help me.
In a whoosh, Liddy felt all breath rush outof her. She bent slightly, clutching her belly, and burst into tears.
Somehow made it back to her phone on the table.Managed to hit her speed dial.
38
Beth was there inminutes. Maybe more. Liddy must have gotten the front door open and passed out.Came to stretched on the couch with a worried Beth on the ottoman leaning toher, squeezing her hand, patting her arm with her other hand.
“I don’t believe that,” Beth was saying,her voice coming from a blurred far away.
“What?” Liddy whispered, aware that she’dbeen speaking, or trying to.
“You just said you’d finally and officiallyhad a psychotic break. People who’ve really flipped out don’t talk like that.” Beth’sface was distraught, her hand was clammy. “Tell me again,” she said gently. “Whathappened?”
The ceiling swam. The light-headedness waseasing a little. “...in the studio. Sasha’s face…in the watercolor. She wrote…helpme.”
“Hang tight.”
Beth went. Stared, for what seemed endless,frightening moments at the wild, swooping colors, the histrionic figures…and themournful face, the begging words beneath it. “Oh God,” she whispered, verysoftly. “Oh God, oh God,” she nearly cried, her hand to her mouth as shehurried back, stopping in the kitchen for water.
“Drink, your lips are dry,” she said,handing Liddy the glass, pulling the ottoman closer. Liddy sipped and coughed alittle. Beth
