“I’m wiped out,” Amanda said, sitting in a tiger-striped chaise lounge that was surrounded by spider and rubber plants along the back and sides. She swiveled her head, taking in the leafy environs, and settled her gaze on a small plant on the cherry Elizabethan coffee table with knobby feet.
Riley smiled, sitting across from her in a green leather chair with brass rivets. She had long ago given up on the idea of running. This was a major breakthrough if she could help sustain it, like pulling Amanda up over a ledge. Help her to higher ground where the view was better.
“Your dad gave that to me. It’s called a ponytail bonsai tree.”
“Cute.”
They had moved from the bedroom into the living room after a brief stop in the kitchen for some water. Amanda had toyed with departing, but realized she didn’t have a car. Miss Dwyer had promised her a ride if she would just talk for a short while, like two friends staying up late on a school night.
“All I’m asking is that we just talk, Amanda.” Riley paused a moment and then said, “You’re young. You probably know something about this.” She shifted on the chair and used her hands to animate her speaking. “You know how when you delete something from your computer, you don’t actually delete the file or the photo or the whatever?”
Amanda shrugged, “Sure. Everyone knows that. You’re really just writing over the old file with the new one. The old one’s still on the hard drive. Everything’s still there, but there’s only so much space.”
Riley winked and pointed at her. “Think about that one. You’ve talked about these memories, and why some you can remember and others you can’t.”
Amanda, clearly uncomfortable with the topic, looked down at the tiger striping on the chaise. She ran her hand along the smooth fabric. “So, what’s with the safari theme?”
“I change it about every two years. Your dad had been deployed to the Philippines, so I went native with him.” Riley decided not to push the computer point. She thought it registered with Amanda and saw no purpose in pursuing it for now.
Amanda paused. “You really loved him, didn’t you?”
“I really loved him.”
A long moment of silence passed between them.
“Why?”
“There was a lot to love about him, Amanda.” Riley looked into the distance, not so much within her physical space, but into a world which she had developed. It was that special province of someone who loved a soldier, a place where she could go with safely stored memories, just in case. Amanda nodded, ceding something to Riley; she wasn’t sure what.
“The computer thing. Is that why I can’t remember anything?”
“But you do remember. Sometimes.”
“Sometimes, but then it goes away.”
“Okay, then do this. Tell me about your mother.”
Amanda paused and ran her hand through her hair, noticing it was becoming a bit greasy from all of the activity of the day. Did she really have the mental energy for all of this? Was it really worth it to go through all of these gyrations to get a half a million dollars? Did she really care about that anymore?
She figured that she could answer no to at least two of those questions, but pressed ahead anyway.
“My mother? What’s she got to do with this?”
“I don’t know, but you’ve got to have memories of her, right? Or is your entire mind, like, so totally blacked out, man, you know?” Riley waved her arms around as if she were a windmill.
“Don’t go getting all goofy on me again, okay?”
“Okayyy, man,” she said, getting goofy anyway. “Answer the question.”
After a significant pause, Amanda sat up and said, “Okay. You just want me to free associate, right? Think out loud?”
“Oooh, free associate. I like it. But you know, dear, I’m a shrink… and nothing’s free.”
“Trust me, I know.” Amanda raised her hands as if she were pushing away.
“So free associate away.”
Amanda leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, then pushed back and laid her head against the arm of the chaise, the proverbial client to psychiatrist pose.
“My mom and grandmother raised me. They were always there. You name it, school, sports, cheerleading. Driving me to swim meets. Paying for absolutely everything. My dad just wasn’t a factor.”
“Let me interrupt you for just a sec, hon’. You’re not giving me memories. You’re giving me the party line, talking points. Give me a memory.”
Amanda turned her head and looked at Riley. Then she turned away and looked up at the ceiling. She noticed the swirling patterns that the craftsman must have carved in the plaster using his trowel. She rested her mind and felt it swirling a bit, as if she might fall asleep. She was bone tired from the stress and the few hours of true sleep she had experienced since the day the Army officers had appeared on her doorstep. As she closed her eyes, she went to her own special place, a trapdoor in the back of her mind. Opening it slowly, she sensed something escaping; a butterfly taking flight from its cocoon. Then she started talking.
“We used to always go driving around Lake Keowee, looking at homes. Mama wanted to buy one of those big houses, you know? She always said, ‘If your daddy would just pay child support, maybe we could be in one of these.’ I remember one weekend when I was about nine or ten, my mother said he was supposed to be picking me up, but he never showed. So to make me feel better, we went out with some friends on Lake Keowee Jet Skiing, that kind of thing. There were lots of weekends like that. You know, when he wouldn’t show up. I can remember when I was younger we’d play hide and seek sometimes when he was supposed to come over. He’d be knocking on the door and my mama or grandma, you know Nina, she would hold her finger up to her mouth for everyone to be quiet, and then we’d be real still. All the lights would be off in the house, and he would just be knocking away. It was the funniest thing. Then of course sometimes we would travel away when he was supposed to come over. I remember one time he drove over to Spartanburg, and we had gone to Myrtle Beach for the weekend. I got bit by a crab. Made me scared to go into the ocean anymore. Then there were all the times when Mama would say, ‘If you don’t do what I tell you, you’re going to have to go live with your dad.’ That scared the shit out of me. She might as well have been telling me I was going straight to hell, you know? And then there was that time when I was fourteen, and he was trying to make me come up to Fort Bragg for some stupid ceremony. My mom always made him come and pick me up. She wouldn’t even let me fly alone, at least not to go see him. She’d tell him that I was too scared to fly. Of course, it was all bullshit, you know, but she was doing it to protect me. She’s a really good person. Anyway, we couldn’t escape this time, and he comes to get me at the house. So I’m like on my cell phone the entire way up to North Carolina, and he gets all mad at me, saying I should be talking to him, you know? So when we get to Fort Bragg I tell him I need to go into the ladies room at a gas station there. So I call my mama, but Nina picks up. I tell Nina what’s going on, you know, and she tells me she’s really worried about me, and so I should just call 911 as fast as I can. So I did. The cops came and it was only because he had some pull that he got out of it.”
Riley had seen borderline personality disorder and even a few multiple personality disorders in her practice. However, she had never before witnessed a client go into such a trancelike stream of consciousness. Clearly Amanda did not intend to reveal these secrets so openly, but a combination of her depleted mental state, fatigue, and her most recent experience at her father’s house perhaps had opened a seam in her psyche. Like water through a burst dam, the thoughts continued flowing.