"Frank's 'creature'was real. It exists in the realities of many civilizations all over the world and has been called many names. Perhaps, Western Civilization would call it a gremlin, which oddly, in your lexicon, is defined as a 'mythical creature' simply because this industrialized, technology-based society is too mired in empirical thought to believe what the eyes do not always see."
"Gremlins? Jesus Christ, you gotta be kidding. How did he get to see one of those?"
"A moment of shared consciousness - "
"Shared consciousness? You're talking about when you bit him. Is that what happens? People go off their nut?"
"No. I feel what they feel, and they feel what I feel. It goes both ways, but the effect is short-lived, and normally they do not remember any of it."
"But Frank did."
"My senses are more acute than yours, Nicole. I see things you cannot. Frank got a glimpse of this creature as a direct by-product of my actions. Mere remote coincidence let Frank be in the right place at the right time to glimpse a creature that is really quite harmless. They just tend to be a bit puckish sometimes."
The sound of boiling water emanated from the kitchen. Nicole, empty cup in hand, looked at me from across the threshold, eyebrows scrunched downward. "Not harmless, Al. Obviously, not harmless. Don't think for a second that it was harmless."
"The creature itselfis harmless - "
"Bullshit, just look at - "
"Please listen and try to control the histrionics. Frank only glimpsed the creature briefly, but imagine it like this: You are in a dark room with a closed door separating you from the bright light on the other side. The door is opened a mere crack, allowing the tiniest sliver of light to pass the threshold. But imagine how bright that tiny sliver of light would seem from within that dark room. Yet, it is still a mere sliver of reality, folded as it were, but you unfold it, and there is an entire dimension. Frank only saw a tiny sliver of the creature's being, but it was enough to crash through his perceptual limitations."
Nicole gasped, almost dropping the cup, not even noticing the whistling of the teapot. "Christ, that'd be enough to make a person crazy."
"Indeed. It would."
"It'd be like dropping acid without knowing it. Everything looks different, but you don't know why. You just think you've lost your mind. Christ, how would anyone deal with it?" She poured herself another cup of tea. "Shit, oughta make a whole pot. I really don't think I want to sleep tonight."
"Under the circumstances, I would not blame you."
She returned to the table. "Christ, the therapists tried to help him, but there wasn't a damn thing they could do for him."
"No, not while operating under such a materialistic paradigm."
"But he needs help, Al. Maybe you could talk to him. Help him."
"If he's not so far gone that he wouldn't accept help."
"You gotta do something. Thisis your fault. You do know that don't you?"
"Yes, I understand."
"You better understand." Nicole picked up the diary and fondled it between sips of tea. "He resisted the therapy at first, thought he might fool them by cooperating with their efforts. Even willingly took part in occupational therapy. That's where the flowers come in. Finally, they convinced him he'd only been having delusions. Probably, by then, the dreams had stopped. Your creature must've gotten bored. They let him out of Mendota, and he came back to work at Co-op Cab. He was fine until he saw you again. He talks about some altercation between you and him in the bathroom where he saw you in the mirror, but didn't really see you. From the way he rambles after that, it seems that incident started to push him over the edge, but he still wasn't sure. He talks about not really believing what he'd seen, that it wasn't real, that he was creating alternative realities to act out an unwillingness to take responsibility for his own failings. He almost believed it, but then the dreams came back. Listen to this entry. It's dated March fifteenth, not even two weeks ago:
"'Goddamned asshole psychotherapists!
"'They said I was having delusions. They said I had to let go of these delusions, and then the dreams would stop. Well, the dreams stopped, but that creature is still out there, only it's taken a different form. Fucking psychotherapists. Don't know shit.