The Time Travelers' Club -- Chapter 82: Nightmares

"Sam, tell me about your nightmares," said Dr. Thomas, studying his reaction, her pen poised to jot notes.  "Tell me about this man who’s chasing you. Is he someone in your life? Or does he remind you of someone in your life?"

Now on his third counseling session, Sam sat hunched over on the hard sofa in her office. He looked up at the framed college degrees on the wall behind her, then over to the African violets near the window, and finally back to Dr. Thomas before giving her an answer. She waited, anticipating his response.  Sam weighed telling the truth to the alternative.

"Well...  It's an old guy."  Sam paused.  "He's mean.  He pushes me to the floor and slaps me around.  Screaming at me.   Holding me down."

"What is he screaming?"  Dr. Thomas looked up from her note pad.  “Do you know why he is yelling at you?”

"Why is he screaming? I'm not really sure." Sam's nightmares had gotten worse since being kidnapped by Dr. Herkeimer. They had become violent causing him to lose sleep and making him cranky and snippy.  Emily had heard him screaming one night, but he pretended to be alright when she asked about his nightmares. But she had a mother’s instinct that made her realize he wasn't the same boy.  Something had changed him.  Alarmed and frightened, Emily hoped counseling would help and this phase was part of his grieving for his Dad and their move to Connecticut.

After his white lie to Dr. Thomas, Sam thought to himself.  I know what he's screaming...  He wants me to give him a copy of the book... The book about time travel...  What would you think of that Dr. Thomas?

Dr. Thomas glanced down at her notes and moved on after realizing her question was getting them nowhere.  "Sam, in our last session, you also mentioned your landlady. Mrs. Steers? Can you tell me about her?"

Sam hemmed and hawed, making a zigzag pattern on the floor with his foot.  "She lies to me.  She tells me everything will be OK, but I don't believe her."

Looking puzzled, Dr. Thomas quizzed Sam further about his thoughts and feelings, while Sam covered up as much as possible without giving anything away about the Time Travelers Club. He knew telling her the truth behind his nightmares would only complicate matters. He feared being put in a mental institute by claiming to be able to time travel. Sam believed Mrs. Steers and the rest of the Club would keep their secrets at any cost.

"Sam, you hide your feelings well.   I have to admit that I’m not sure you are really telling me what’s really on your mind.  Maybe in time you will.  I mean trust me enough to really talk.”

Sam continued to make the zigzag pattern on the floor.  “I guess.”

 Dr. Thomas went back to the topic of Mrs. Steers. “I understood that you were becoming friends with her.  Is this not so?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders.  He didn't really want to talk anymore.  This was his Mom's idea. He knew nothing would change the past. His Dad's dying. Being kidnapped. Being lied to. Being slapped across the face. He couldn’t get past being slapped by Dr. Herkeimer. Not getting any answers about why this was happening to him.

It was now mid-December. Sam hadn't seen Mrs. Steers in over three weeks.  He had purposefully avoided her, not ready to put his plan in place. Sam rubbed his hands against the sofa’s smooth suede upholstery.  His mind began to wonder without noticing that Dr. Thomas was waiting for his answer.  Glancing at the clock, he had only a few more minutes to endure until the session's end.

Flashing back to the last time he saw Mrs. Steers he remembered her exact words.

"You must trust me, Sam," said Mrs. Steers.  "We let you down and Dr. Herkeimer got you, but you must trust me."

Shaking all over, Sam was having an anxiety attack.  He tensed, trying not to cry, but the tears rolled down his cheeks.  Sam jerked away from her as Mrs. Steers reached out for him.

"You must listen," said Mrs. Steers, tears filled her eyes too.   Xavier stood by and watched, not sure what to do.

Sam shook his head and pushed her away.  "I don't trust you."  He dashed up the stairs.  He turned and yelled.  "Keep away from me.  I'm shutting this door and I don't ever want to see you again."

Sam slammed the laundry room door behind him and locked it. Sam glanced at the clock.  Emily was still at work and wouldn't be home for another hour.   That would give him enough time to cry out his anger.

Throwing himself on his bed, he screamed into his pillow to muffle the sound.  Sobbing, he tried to calm himself.  Finally, he went to the bathroom, wiped his face off, and lay back down.

“Sam, are you listening to me, Sam?”  Dr. Thomas was staring at him.  Sam came back to the present day, back to the sofa in the counselor’s office.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about Mrs. Steers.   She scares me a little.”

Dr. Thomas started to ask about Mrs. Steers when the alarm clock went off.   “Sorry, Sam, but our time is up.  I want you to think about why Mrs. Steers scares you and we’ll talk about her first thing next time.”

Sam left the office and headed home.   He and his Mom didn’t walk home together on Tuesdays because the counseling office wasn’t on the same route as the library.  So, he had time to walk alone and think about his part in the Club.   When he got home, he stretched out on the living room floor and tried to read, but finally gave up, unable to concentrate.  The words just blurred together on the page.  Closing his book, he stared up at the ceiling and began to mumble.

"I have to get one of the books.  That's the only way.  I've just got to get a hold of one."

He concocted a scheme to trick Mrs. Steers into telling him the location of the books, steal one, and hand it over to the Doctor.  He hoped this would bring an end to his fear of Dr. Herkeimer and no more attempts to kidnap him.

“It won’t work.  She won’t fall for it.”  Sam sighed and nodded off.  Before he knew it, Bruno was chasing him.  They were running across a hot desert.  The wind blew the sand.  Sam kept falling in the shifting sand, feeling it go in his mouth, up his nose, and into his eyes.  Bruno seemed to float along.  His feet hardly touched the ground.  Sam struggled to get up, but it was too late, Bruno was over him.  Sam's arm flailed at his assailant.

"Sam, wake up.  Why are you laying the floor?  Are you alright?"  His Mom woke him up.  She stared down at him then walked to the kitchen.  "What were you doing?  Running a race."

Running to the bathroom, Sam splashed water on his face and combed his hair.

Emily chatted while preparing their dinner.  "You know, I wish you would tell me what these dreams are all about.  I feel helpless here watching you toss and turn.  Waking up in the middle of the night screaming."

Emily did feel helpless; her pleading with him to talk with her went nowhere.  Every time, Sam would give the same response.

"I can't tell you.  I just can't.  Even though I know I should."  Sam blurted out at her.  “Just leave me alone.  Just leave it.”

Sam ran off to his bedroom and shut the door.  Emily was stunned.  She didn’t know what to say.