Gillian Anderson - A Vision of Fire

After letting the sitter in, Caitlin poked her head around Jacob’s door; her mind wouldn’t drop the conversation. He was doing his homework and held up a drawing of Captain Nemo he’d made.

“That’s lovely,” she signed. And it was. Nemo’s beard in particular was enchanting, drawn as though it were a frozen white wave.

“Jacob, before, what did you mean by ‘hold it’?” she signed.

Jacob tapped three fingers near his mouth, then made a stretching motion with both hands: “water” and “big.”

Caitlin felt a chill. She positioned herself to make sure he could read her lips. “Do you mean the ocean?” she asked, as she repeated his signs for “big water.” Jacob visited the ocean several times a year with his grandparents on Long Island.

He nodded.

She relaxed a little. “Did you see the ocean when you were holding my hand?”

He shook his head no.

“Then how did you know it was the ocean?”

“It was really big and it was moving.”

“Moving—like waves on the beach?”

He shook his head again. “I have to work now, Mommy.”

He turned back to his schoolwork like a mini-Caitlin. She lingered a moment in case he decided to say more. When he did not, she bent over and gave him his good-night kiss, which he returned. Nothing about the event seemed to be bothering him and for that she was relieved, but his reaction still unnerved her. Why would he mention a wave? Had he somehow tapped into her visions?

Halfway down the stairs, heading out of her apartment, Caitlin remembered how she had once described psychiatry to Jacob: helping people hold their problems in the light until they solved them. Maybe he had simply sensed her preoccupation with the traumatized girls and went to a place where he always felt calm—the ocean.

The ground was shifting under Caitlin’s feet, more than it had when she was working with hundreds of people after the Phuket tsunami. Those were tragic multitudes; these were two girls, two individuals whom she knew and had spoken to. She was usually so balanced. If she suddenly wobbled, Jacob would surely feel it.

In the cab to the east side, Caitlin did some quick reading. Upon arriving at the Pawars’ apartment, she asked for a few minutes alone on the balcony before she saw Maanik. Kamala showed her outside and shut the door behind her. Caitlin looked at the lights of apartments and streetlamps rippling on the East River, looked up at sharp clouds slipping past a full, bright moon. Despite the fact that Ben was about to arrive, she felt strangely alone. Maybe it was because their history was like a circus act. Sometimes they were hanging from the same trapeze, sometimes they were on opposite ends of the tent, and sometimes they were plummeting toward the net. Their relationship wasn’t exactly something to hold on to.

Still, she was glad to see him standing before her when she went back into the apartment. He had a warm smile—a relaxed smile, for the first time in days—and a bag full of gadgets: video camera, backup sound recorder, and tablet.

“Good day?” she asked hopefully.

“Almost,” he whispered. “The representatives huddled separately so I didn’t have to interpret too much today.”

They set up the equipment in Maanik’s room and the girl watched them without comment; she seemed more distant than she’d been earlier, but not apprehensive. Resigned? Braced? It was difficult to tell.

Caitlin sat beside her and explained everything she was going to say and do as a guide throughout the session. Maanik listened without comment or acknowledgment. Ben crouched a few feet away, ready to turn on the devices and take notes on his tablet. The Pawars sat side by side across the room, on chairs from the dining room. Jack London hovered nearby but seemed more interested in sniffing the cuffs of Ben’s pants than what Caitlin was about to do.

Caitlin kept one eye on the dog while she walked Maanik through the countdown to a state of hypnosis. The only change in Jack London’s behavior was that he shoved his nose under a pant cuff and thoroughly inspected Ben’s sock.

Maanik was also unperturbed. She slipped into a deep, relaxed state without resistance.

Caitlin had debated with herself whether to frame this to Maanik as simple hypnosis or as a “past life” session. The very phrase “past-life regression” still made her cringe a bit. However, she had looked up the process of regression and read about it again on the ride over. She was surprised to find that it was very similar to ordinary hypnosis. Still, Caitlin decided that actually saying the phrase “past life” would be too leading. She wanted Maanik to describe what she was seeing and experiencing unencumbered.

She began by asking Maanik to choose a peaceful location, somewhere she felt safe and at home. She would be able to return to this place any time she wanted.

“Have you found a spot?” Caitlin asked.

“Yes, I’m there,” Maanik said.

“Tell me about it.”

“I’m under a pink and yellow tent. It’s swaying back and forth.” She laughed. “It’s on the back of an elephant.”

Everyone chuckled.

“That’s wonderful,” Caitlin said. “You feel perfectly safe up there?”

“Oh, yes.” Maanik sighed with contentment. “I’m in a line with men on white horses ahead of me and we’re walking slowly through the fields toward the mountains. They’re far away, though, we won’t get there tonight. It’s hot but we have a nice breeze. And I’m playing cards with my aunt. Round cards, all painted.”

There was a quiet exclamation from the Pawars’ corner. Mrs. Pawar said, “ Ganjifa cards.”

The ambassador added, “For teaching the Mahabharata, devised centuries ago.”

Caitlin nodded but kept the focus on Maanik, who suddenly said dreamily, as if she were quoting, “The body is ashes but the breath is immortal.”

Ben whispered to the ambassador, “From the Vedas?”

The ambassador nodded and Mrs. Pawar seemed surprised.

“The Upanishads,” the woman said. She stared at her daughter and added, “Maanik has never studied them.”

“She may have overheard me,” Mr. Pawar said, but he didn’t sound confident.

“All right, Maanik,” Caitlin said. “Remember, you can come back to your tent on the elephant any time you want. Do you understand?”

“Mmmm.”

“I’m going to ask now that you find the other place, the place you’ve been visiting. The place where you’ve been having so much trouble.”

The smile dropped from the girl’s face. “I don’t want to,” she said in the smallest voice Caitlin had ever heard.

“I know,” Caitlin said. “I know it’s a big favor to ask. But this is to help me help you. Can you be brave and do this for yourself?”

Maanik hesitated, then nodded. She swallowed hard and crossed her arms on her chest protectively. Caitlin could see Maanik’s eyes moving under her eyelids as she looked around. Then her entire body jerked and her eyes flew open, but she was not looking at the room she was in. Her arms flung apart and just as quickly, she began slapping at her bandaged arms, hitting them in a way that made Caitlin shudder. She grabbed Maanik by the shoulders and leaned into her to stop the attack on herself. The girl was screaming again, silently, her mouth a wide O. Jack London suddenly started howling.

“Maanik, tell me where you are!” Caitlin said firmly.

The girl seemed to fight to regain control of her mouth. Her tortured lips pulled together and unfamiliar words spilled from them. She began gesturing with the wide circles and sudden slashes that Ben had identified as superlatives. Caitlin could see Maanik struggling to keep speaking, to make sense—as much as those words made sense—even as her eyes twitched rapidly in fear.