She Has A Broken Thing Where Her Heart Should Be - J.D. Barker Page 0,139

cup on the table next to her bed. “Of course, your mind might have repressed these memories because they’re unbelievably horrible, possibly even damaging if recalled. If we do this, there won’t be any turning back. Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Okay, then.”

“Here, take this.” Kaylie handed me a small, white pill.

“What is it?”

“Just a Valium. You need something to help you relax. You’re a bundle of nerves right now. This won’t work if you don’t calm down.”

I swallowed the chalky pill dry.

She straightened the quilt on her bed and told me to lie down, then rummaged through a drawer under the Kenwood receiver atop her dresser. She produced a microcassette recorder. “I’m gonna tape this. Is that okay?”

I nodded.

She handed me a pair of over-the-ear Bose headphones, plugged them into the receiver, and told me to put them on. They must have had some type of noise-canceling feature built in, because when she spoke again, her voice sounded distant, as if shouted over a long distance. I could no longer hear voices in the hallway or the adjoining dorm rooms. She told me to close my eyes, and I did.

She switched off the lights, and the pink behind my eyelids went black.

There was an electronic hum as she turned on the receiver. A steady click filled my ears, a recording of a metronome.

Tick…tock.

Tick…tock.

Tick…tock.

“Okay, Jack, I want you to listen to the rhythm of that sound, like a comforting heartbeat. Breathe in through your mouth, out through your nose, let your breathing fall in time with the sound. It’s all about the sound, that comforting sound. A heartbeat. Visualize a heartbeat, that sound. The rush of your blood, the life flowing through every inch of your body. Warm and comforting. My voice brings you deeper, faster and deeper, faster and deeper in a warm, calm, peaceful state of relaxation. Like sinking deep down into a warm bath.”

Tick…tock.

Tick…tock.

“Sinking down and shutting down. Sinking down and shutting down. Sinking down and shutting down completely in the enveloping warmth,” she said from so far away. Repeating. “Warm and calm, a blanket, snug and—”

When my eyes opened, Kaylie had her back to me. She was on the phone. I pulled off the headphones.

“…not what I agreed to,” she said into the receiver.

“Kaylie?” I said. My throat was dry.

She turned then, her eyes wide. Kaylie hung up the phone.

I sat up slowly on the bed, my arms and legs heavy, as if waking from a deep sleep. I didn’t remember sleeping, though.

The window behind the towel was dark. But that couldn’t be right. It was only around noon when we started. “Who were you talking to?”

An odd flavor lingered in my mouth for a second, then was gone.

Chocolate milk?

“Did it work?”

Kaylie’s eyes narrowed. She picked up the white ski parka and slipped the coat on. “I need to get to the library, and you need to leave.”

I frowned. “You said that was your roommate’s.”

“You need to go. I didn’t sign on for this.” She folded her arms defensively at her chest and nodded at the door. “Now.”

I stood and grabbed the phone. “Who did you call?”

She reached for the door, pulled it open.

I keyed in *69 on the phone.

It rang once.

“Keep him there, I’m on my way,” a voice said.

Willy.

From the open doorway, Kaylie said, “Get out, Jack. Now.”

“What did I say?”

“Get out, or I’ll scream.”

The microcassette recorder still sat on the bed, next to the pillow. I grabbed it. The tape was missing. “Where’s the tape?”

“I’ll scream. I swear I will.”

“Dammit! What did I say?” I shouted.

She did scream then. Kaylie screamed so loud the shrill pitch filled the room. I threw the microcassette recorder against the far wall and pushed past her and out into the hallway, where a dozen eyes watched me leave in stunned silence.

Outside Geary Hall, I crossed the quad to a bank of pay phones at Findlay Commons. I dialed my apartment on Mifflin and got a busy signal. I hung up and dialed again, again after that.

When the phone finally did ring, it only rang once before Willy picked up.

“Hello?”

“Why did she call you, Willy?”

There was a pause. “Where have you been, Jack?”

“Arby’s.”

“You’ve been gone a day and a half.”

“There was a long line.”

“Were you out drinking?”

“Why did Kaylie call you, Willy?”

“She was worried. We’re all very worried about you, that’s all. I know her from student union. She knows we’re roommates. She said you showed up on her doorstep looking like death warmed over and smelling worse. She said