Her move was a surprise. Julian had expected condemnation for his
meddling. He had almost hoped for it as a relief from his self-reproach. This open
invitation to espouse his private theory was a welcome, yet intimidating, offer—to be
accepted with caution.
"I've had another nightmare… That's not accurate. I've had my
recurrent nightmare. Same one. Only this time I remember it completely. I know
exactly what you're thinking—'not this again; how could Julian's dream life have
anything to do with anyone but himself.' And I'd be the first to admit it couldn't.
Except, Ms. Zoe, this nightmare is not mine. It's Melanie's.
"Now, before you have me fitted for a straightjacket, let me
explain. I've tested it out. Melanie is in the state she's in because a detail I
supplied to her jogged her memory. But she couldn't face it. She tried; I could feel her
trying. It's just too strong for her to handle. If you'd seen what I have, in the dream,
you'd understand. Real animals, these guys were—the ones who put her in that hospital
before she was sent here. Yes; I've read her file. I sneaked a peek at it one morning when
you weren't here. All's fair in love and chess. I confess to the deed now so you can
appreciate the fact that nowhere in that medical report is there any mention of a
van with a fisheye window—the detail that sent our patient back to The Land of Nod.
"Of course at the time I was more concerned about proving my
theory than about Melanie's welfare, so I blew it. I fed her too much too soon. But next
time, when…"
"Excuse me, Julian. Do you really think it's fair that Melanie
should have to suffer through your teaching yourself to be a therapist? As you say, you've
already made a mistake. Who is at risk if you should make another? Now I'm quite prepared
to listen if you'd care to describe your nightmare, but I cannot condone, nor will I
permit, your tampering with my patient."
"How possessive of you, Ms. Zoe."
"No; how professionally responsible."
They had reached an impasse.
"May I see her?"
Sister Zoe was pensive; she still had doubts about Julian's motives.
The relevance of these nightmares—irrespective of their accuracy—was that they
represented a curious sort of link, one patient to the other, both of whom were
impressionable and imaginative. Thus their affecting one another indeed was plausible.
What remained a mystery to the nun was how. And where, in the end, would it lead? Did she
dare risk another setback? In the girl's present state, could Julian's going to see her do
further harm?
"Yes, you may."
He got up to go. She stopped him.
"Provided you are willing to give me assurances that there will be
no more playing doctor on your part. Agreed?"
He nodded.
"No more games, Julian. They do a great disservice to you
both."
For once he did not care about The Game.
