Often we find that the things our conscious minds refuse to take seriously our subconscious minds deal with in a very serious manner. Essentially, that is what dreams are all about, and, sometimes, neuroses and psychoses. One might say that mental illness results when our conscious minds and our unconscious minds try to do each other’s jobs. So think about it before you answer my question.”
Jack did, and found that he was amazed by the answer he came up with. He smiled sheepishly at the doctor.
“Okay,” he said. “I guess I have to admit that I do believe in the legend, including the curse. I suppose with us Congers it’s like religion. We were brought up with it, and while we know it’s nonsense, it’s still lurking there, just below the surface.”
Dr. Belter nodded. “But you say you never heard of the little girl before?”
Jack shook his head. “No. I’m sure. I’d have remembered. Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? If the story of the little girl is true, there are some pretty strong parallels between what happened to her and her father, and what happened to you and Sarah. Except that with you and Sarah no molestation took place, and nobody died. But otherwise, it’s the same thing.”
“History repeating itself?” It was Rose’s voice, and the two men turned to her. “I don’t believe it.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Dr. Belter said. “Although the effect would be the same. Do either of you know anything about voodoo?”
“That it’s a lot of hoodoo,” Jack said, too quickly.
“Not quite,” Dr. Belter replied. “It’s based on the power of suggestion. Essentially, what it boils down to is this: If someone believes strongly enough that something will happen, it will, in all likelihood, happen. For instance, voodoo tradition has it that you can cause pain in a person by sticking pins in an effigy of that person. The catch is that the person has to know that pins are being stuck in the doll. Once he knows the pins are being placed, his own mind will create the pain. Do you see?”
Jack mulled it over. “In other words, you think I might be a victim of the legend, simply because I believe in it?”
“That’s it,” Dr. Belter said. “Simplified, but that’s essentially it.”
Rose smiled wryly. “Except that we didn’t know anything about the relevant part of the legend. The little girl. You said yourself that there’s no evidence she exists.”
But she does, Rose, Jack said quietly. “Don’t you want to tell Dr. Belter what she looked like?”
Dr. Belter turned questioningly to Jack.
“We found a picture in the attic,” Jack explained, and went on to tell the doctor about the portrait.
“But how can you be sure it’s the same little girl? How can you even be sure it’s a Conger child?”
“Because,” Jack said, his voice a whisper now, “the girl in the picture looks exactly like Elizabeth.”
“I see,” Dr. Belter said after a long silence. “Mr. Conger, are you sure you never saw that picture before, or heard anything about it?”
“Not until a year ago,” Jack said definitely. “Not that I can remember.”
“Not that you can remember,” the doctor repeated thoughtfully. “But we don’t always remember everything we want to remember, do we? I think maybe it would be a good idea to try to find out exactly what you do remember.”
Jack appeared to be about to object, but at the look on Rose’s face, a look that told him he’d better agree, he sagged in defeat.
“Very well,” he said. “When shall we begin?”
Dr. Belter examined his calendar. “How about two weeks from tomorrow, at one P.M.? Both of you.”
Before Jack could protest Rose said, “We’ll be there.”
The session with Dr. Belter ended.
Neither of the Congers felt better about anything.
They were more frightened than ever.
14
Fifteen miles from White Oaks School, while Jack and Rose Conger sat chatting with Dr. Charles Belter, the final bell rang through the halls of Port Arbello Memorial School, and the children poured out of the classrooms. Elizabeth Conger picked Kathy Burton’s face out of the crowd and hurried toward her.
An eager smile lit Kathy’s face. “Is today the day?” she asked.
“What day?” Elizabeth’s face was blank.
“Is this the day you’re going to take me to the secret place?”
Elizabeth looked at her oddly, and Kathy’s eyes widened as she felt a thrill of excitement run through her. Then she sagged with disappointment.
“I can’t,” Kathy said. “I’m supposed to go right out to the Nortons’ to baby-sit.”