No, Daddy, it’s a man, and he’s coming, he’s coming, and...”
“Yes, sweetheart, I know you’re seeing something. The devil, a demon, whatever.” Her father took a deep breath. “We’re...well, we’re going to get someone to help you. I know someone. A nice doctor who can talk you through this. She works with many people—young and old—who are troubled with nightmares. There’s something you’re afraid of, and if can just find out what it is...” Her mother trailed off at a look from her father. Then she asked, “Will you be able to sleep? Do you want me to stay in here with you?”
“Judith,” her dad murmured.
Stacey didn’t want to cause trouble between them. She was frightened; bone-chilling scared. But it wasn’t for her own safety. She saw what was going to happen from a distant place.
She was terrified for her parents.
Her father thought himself a capable man. He was a private investigator. He’d been in the military. He consulted and investigated for the police and other law enforcement agencies—He was a man who knew that life could be very dangerous.
He knew how to use a gun. But he didn’t always carry one. When he worked at home, it was kept locked in his gun safe. She’d heard her parents talk about it. Her mom didn’t like guns, so even though she admitted that at the age of ten Stacey was unlikely to disobey them and go grab her dad’s gun, the gun was to always be locked up in the house. It was one of the few arguments she’d ever heard them have.
Her parents were special people. A true love-match. They only had one child—her. That was because her dad had been sixty when she’d been born, her mother nearly forty. People—well-meaning people, friends and family—had thought the age difference might be too much.
Some had thought her mother was after his money. Rather silly, since her mother was an important banker and made way more than her father.
Her father thought it important for a girl to learn everything; he was such a cool man. He cooked as often as her mom. If her mom made dinner—even if it was icky fish sticks—her father said thank you and told her what a wonderful meal it had been. Then he did the dishes.
She’d heard someone ask him once if for his “one shot,” he was sorry he hadn’t gotten a boy. He had shrugged and said, “We were thrilled with a happy baby. And a girl? Well, heck, she can do anything a boy can do!”
Stacey adored him.
She loved her mom, too.
And she didn’t want them fighting.
“No, Mommy, no, you’re right. It was just a nightmare. And it’s over.”
“See?” her father said proudly. “Judith, she’s smart as a whip.”
“We still have to do something about...whatever it is!” her mom said.
“We will,” her father promised.
They kissed her good night.
“Leave the hallway light on?” she asked.
“Yes, sweetie,” her mom promised.
They left her. She fell back to sleep, and the dream didn’t come again.
Not that night.
* * *
Her name was Dr. Patricia Blair, and she was very nice. Stacey liked her just fine. She had worked with her dad and David Hanson Investigations before.
Dr. Patricia encouraged Stacey to talk and she listened, and she didn’t mock. Stacey might have been ten, but she’d spent a lot of her time with grown-ups and she knew how to deal with them. She never resorted to tears or dramatics. She tried, in a calm and even voice, to explain the way the dream had come.
First, just the burning eyes.
Then the demon face.
Then the man in her father’s study...
The good doctor did everything a psychiatrist was supposed to do, Stacey knew. She asked if Stacey was having any problems at school. Was she, perhaps, being bullied?
No. She loved school. She liked her friends. She was in a magnet school for music. Nerds did not bully nerds. They were all nerds.
She was surprised when the doctor asked her to describe the nightmares in more detail. And she was equally surprised by the way the woman listened to her. The doctor then asked her mom if she might have a friend speak with Stacey as well.
Was he another doctor?
No, just an amazing man with incredible insight.
He seemed old; tall and thin with white hair and a face that was somehow beautiful.
Stacey liked him. People around her were calling him Mr. Harrison, but he told her his name was Adam, and he liked being called Adam.