Progress moves forward on all fronts, despite a few setbacks. The Professor takes Nanny out for a glorious night of "rehabilitation" under the stars.
Renovation: Rehabilitation
"But you are a holy people . . . a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness and into his wonderful light." (1 Peter 2:9)
Chapter 1: The Darkest Hour . . .
On Friday morning, Phoebe awoke with the familiar sense of foreboding that had come to plague her. She was once again spending the morning with Joni and her kids, while the Professor planned to spend it out on the worksite with the kids. It had been a rough night.
Around midnight, she woke up calling for him. She could not recall her dream, only the sense of fear. Her heart was pounding and when Hal rushed in, she grasped him tightly. As she clung to him, she feel him softly stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. In time she calmed and allowed him to help her downstairs for a cup of tea. She was still shaking and he had to steady her on the stairs.
It always felt odd to her when he waited on her like this. He really didn't like any kind of work in the kitchen, whether it was cooking or cleaning. But he certainly knew how to boil water and steep tea. He put out the cups, saucers, and spoons, and then got the milk and sugar. When it was ready, he poured them each a cup and sat down beside her. Obediently, she added the milk and sugar and stirred. But her head hurt. She leaned it against her hand.
"Drink up," he encouraged.
"It's too hot," she replied.
"Would you like anything with it? There is still some of that blueberry pie from dessert," he suggested.
"No, but if you want some, I don't mind," she answered.
Kissing her head as he got up, he cut himself a thick slice and came back.
"As long as I'm up, I might as well have a midnight snack," he said in an attempt to be casual.
She smiled weakly. She knew that he really did not like to be awakened in the middle of the night, any more than he liked to work in the kitchen.
"I'm sorry," she apologized.
"So am I, but not because you woke me up, because you had the nightmare. It was a bad one, wasn't it? I could feel your heart pounding harder than ever before. You also cried out very loudly," he said.
"I'm surprised that I didn't wake the kids," she commented uneasily.
"My three are completely worn out by the busy day, especially the boys who were out in the sun. You probably woke up Trelawney, but she won't come down. She trusts me to take care of you," he admitted.
"Have you discussed this with her?" Phoebe asked, now clearly disturbed.
"Well, it was more like she discussed it with me. She is completely aware, every time you have a nightmare. I got the feeling from her that she knows even if she doesn't actually hear you, if you know what I mean. You know how she can be. She's very worried about you, but as long as she knows that I am with you, she'll 'let' me handle it," he replied.
"That's unusual," she said. "She most of the time wants to get into the middle of everything. Do you know why she is controlling herself now, rather the situation?"
"Hmm, she told me that I am the only one that can help you. She cannot. Don't ask me how she knows. She's also very particular about the information she imparts," he replied. "She seems to be tapping into the psychic forces of the universe, as Aunt Justine called them, and getting her information there. But you would know more about that than I do."
Phoebe smiled in spite of herself. Trelawney was, no doubt, in touch with some aspect of the universal consciousness. Leave it to her to dramatize it. However, she could feel the smile fading from her face as she realized that whatever kept waking her up was something quite negative. She might dramatize it, but Trelawney would never lie about it, or as Prudence might, exaggerate it.
Hal was watching the emotions crossing her face. They bothered him more than he wanted to let on. He sensed that her concern was heightened by that fact that her sister was so fully aware of her nightmares.
"I'm ready to go back to bed," she said. She wasn't of a mind to talk about it yet. He nodded and walked her up.
She had slept through the rest of the night, but looking at him sitting at the breakfast table now, she could see that he had not. Since the kids weren't down yet, she reached over his shoulders and kissed him.
"Thank you," she whispered. "It's good that we're going to see Dr. Meyers today. Perhaps it will make us both feel better."
He looked at her in surprise. "Does this mean that you are coming around?"
"Yes," she said. "I think so. Now that I understand better what he is trying to do. And I suspect that Trelawney knows too. I hate to admit it, but if she knows and has chosen not to mention it, then it means that it is somehow in accordance with our destiny."
"I never told her that you were going to counseling," he said uneasily.
"You didn't have to," she said soothingly. "She always knew I'm sure. I don't have to tell her things like that for her to know. If she knows about the nightmares, then no two ways about it, she knows about the counseling."
"Yes, she does," said Trelawney from the door. "I just entered, all I heard was your last statement. I just hope that the aunties don't come back and threaten to take YOU away for being the first person in our family to see a counselor."
Phoebe looked at her fondly. The child had not forgotten their threats and was still upset. She might feign outrage, but she was still fearful. She gestured for her to come over and the girl leaned on her and put her arms around her in a hug.
"Don't worry, dear. No one is going to take anyone away from anyone. You're here with me, and with me you'll stay," she said. "Isn't that right, Hal?"
Hal was silent for a minute as the two sisters looked at him, first expectantly and then uneasily. It was his turn to tease. Then he smiled.
"Had you BOTH going there for a bit, didn't I?"
"We'll give you that one, Professor," said Trelawney with a toss of the head. "I'm starving, what's for breakfast?"
"Whatever you can pour out of a cereal box," replied Phoebe.
Trelawney made a face, but Phoebe didn't care. Let her cook her own eggs if that's what she wanted. In a huff, Trelawney went to get the frying pan for herself. Phoebe smiled at Hal. Sometimes their nonverbal communication could come in very handy.
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Friday afternoon's session started on a tense note, but then gradually became more relaxed, as Dr. Meyers tried a different tactic to move things forward. The issue of the nightmare could not be avoided. However, Phoebe was determined to get beyond it.
"Can you tell us what it was about?" asked Dr. Meyers, referring to the dream.
"Only that it was frightening," she said.
"In what way?"
"I don't know, that's what makes it so frightening," she replied. "If I could remember it, then perhaps it wouldn't be so bad."
"I'm sure that it wouldn't. If you knew what was frightening you and why, you could face it and conquer it. This way you can't even face it," he commented.
"Is there anything we can do about it?" asked Hal.
Dr. Meyers was silent for a moment. Then,
"We need to think of this as a physical illness that we are having a hard time diagnosing. Until we diagnose it we can only treat symptoms. However, the trigger seems to be the newsman, and he seems to be the trigger because of your fear that publicity could bring 'him' back, even though, from what you've told me, that is highly unlikely.
"But just keeping Sloan away won't solve the problem. Nor will giving you a sleeping pill. The next time you have the dream, you need to get to Hal, and tell him as much as you can remember right away. The longer you wait, the more the memory will degrade. Will you try this?"
"Yes," she agreed. "I want to face this. I want to get passed this."
Dr. Meyers smiled. "That's good. A willingness to work through to a resolution is the first step. You realize that you may have to face something that is very painful. However, right now, I want you to imagine that all of this is over. Close your eyes and take your mind into the future, a good place in the future, a happy place in the future. You have faced down all your demons, and you and Hal are where you want to be in say, a year."
Phoebe closed her eyes and thought for a minute and then turned to face Hal.
"I love you and I want to be your wife. I want to . . . have your child," she added, feeling shy in front of Dr. Meyers.
"And you know that I want that too," said Hal, taking her hands. "All of it."
"Work backwards from there," suggested Dr. Meyers.
"Why?" asked Hal.
"Well," he explained. "We've tried working forwards and that has only brought us so far. Perhaps if we work backwards from your ultimate goal, we can close the gap. Do you know where you want to start?"
Hal looked tenderly at Phoebe and said, "You know . . ."
"I have always liked blue eyes best," she finished softly.
Never taking his eyes from her face, he said, "Phil, I would like to start at the point where Phoebe is holding our new born, blue-eyed baby for the first time."
Noticing the emotion in his voice, Dr. Meyers asked, "Boy or girl?"
"Girl," they both said together, smiling at the thought. As they sat, locked in each other's gaze, Dr. Meyers could see that they had become oblivious to him and everything around them. He knew that if he could bring them here, from where they presently were. Then his work with them would be done.
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Later that afternoon, it happened again. Harvey Sloan showed up uninvited at the worksite towards the end of the workday. This time around, permissions did not need to be obtained, since he did not intent to come on the property. And as long as he stayed out of the street and on the sidewalk, the police would leave him alone. He had enough experience dealing with these kinds of situations to know how to negotiate the acceptable legal boundaries as he chased down his story.
There were a number of calls from nursing home complaining to the station about his "invasion" yesterday. His producer told him that it would be better to stay away from both the nursing home and Eliot, since any human interest story he might find there would offset good ratings with bad publicity. However, Trelawney was fair game, and, in Sloan's mind, probably the better story. Whoever she was and wherever she had come from, she was most unusual child. He had heard her playing for himself and could recognize extraordinary talent when he heard it.
The other thing that whetted his interest was the fact that everyone was so determined to keep him away from her. Since so much effort was being put into keeping her from the public eye, there must be something very special about her. To a seasoned newsman such as himself, he could only assume that it was something big.
He came late in the afternoon when the parents were there to pick up their kids. Nanny and the Professor had come to pick up the four children and were watching indulgently as the paint crews blew off a little steam. Francine and Trelawney were amusing themselves by painting each other. Bill was shaking his head.
"Girls!" he called. "That better be paint you're playing with!"
"Why?" asked Nanny.
"Because if it's primer it'll never wash off. That stuff sticks worse than glue," he replied.
"But they're done priming," said the Professor puzzled. "Why would they have a can of primer open?"
"Why indeed?" asked Bill, rhetorically. "Those kids may be honors students, but they sure as hell can't read a paint can. Both the primer and the house paint are white. Caught them using primer this morning as a second coat. Then, they can't read whether a can has interior rather exterior paint. They found the paint for one of the bedrooms and decided that it would look nice on the trim of the house."
The professor chuckled. "I guess that's what happens when you let girls paint."
"Girls, nothing! That was a couple of the guys. It was Francine who realized what they had done. You should've heard the lecture she gave them!" he said with a laugh.
"No doubt that's from listening to her mother all these years. You know what they say about apples and trees," replied the Professor.
"Well, she may have a sharp tongue, but she's a damn good worker. Not afraid to keep Trelawney in line either. Only one out here that'll stand up to her except for old Jim," commented Bill.
"I'll have to remember that," said the Professor. "I guess it'll be quitting time soon."
"Soon as they clean up," replied Bill, "But I wouldn't hold my breath waiting."
Then pointing over at Butch and Tim dueling with wet paintbrushes, "Looks like Tom and Huck over there, are giving Pastor Mark a run for his money again."
"Tom and Huck?" asked Nanny.
"That's what the big kids call them after what Mike said about Tom Sawyer at the meeting the other night. Butch is Tom and Tim is Huckleberry Finn. They're actually good workers, as long as you don't turn your back on them. By the looks of things, I'd say that Pastor Mark did," he added.
Suddenly from the roof, Mike called out, "News crew at seven o'clock!"
"God damn!" swore Jim, who was coming over to talk to them. "Topher?"
"Got it, chief!" he called back and ran over to the side of the house to hustle Trelawney in.
"See, Nanny," said Jim. "It's under control. Sloan can't get inside, in fact he can't even set foot on the property without our permission."
Nanny, just like yesterday at the nursing home, had turned pale.
"Nanny, why don't you come in the house?" said Pastor Jason gently. He had just come out from the house. "Trelawney saw you out here and she's worried about you."
"Is she . . . " asked Nanny.
"She's fine," he answered soothingly. "She just wants to make sure that you're fine too."
She nodded and allowed him and the Professor to walk her in. When they got into the kitchen they saw Trelawney and Francine desperately trying to scrub the white paint off themselves.
"Hit yourselves with primer, girls?" asked Pastor Jason cheerily.
"Those idiot boys!" declared Trelawney. "What the bloody hell, were they doing opening up the bloody primer for again anyway?"
"Watch your language!" said Pastor Jason, now highly amused. "Ted told them that the window frames on the east side were ready to be primed. Why didn't you read the paint can like Bill told you to?"
"We thought they had all been put away," replied Trelawney, suitably chastened.
"Mother is going to be so angry with me if I come home with any paint on me!" cried Francine. "She may not let me come back tomorrow, or ever."
"Don't worry," said Pastor Jason. "I'll call her up and tell her what a great worker you are."
Francine and Trelawney exchanged looks.
"Well, Pastor," said Trelawney. "It might be a wee bit better if Fr. Bob called her up."
"A wee bit better?" exclaimed Francine dramatically. "Mother will be distraught if she hears a Protestant minister on the other end of the phone. She might have to have Fr. Bob come over and perform an exorcism or something!"
Forgetting all about his concern for Nanny, the Professor said, "What!"
"Let's just say that Mrs. Fowler is still in mourning for the Latin mass," said Trelawney, trying to be diplomatic. Then, turning to her sister said, "Phoebe, are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost."
"Not a ghost," said the Professor. "Just Harvey Sloan."
"Jolly good show, wasn't it, Phoebe?" asked Trelawney. "Mr. Just Jim's emergency action plan worked like a charm!"
"Emergency what?" asked the Professor.
"Oh yes," said Pastor Jason. "We worked it out during lunch. Mike was the lookout on the roof and so he called out Sloan's arrival position, seven o clock, wasn't it? Then Jim called Topher, because she was on his side. If she was on the other side, Kevin would have gotten her in. See, Nanny? She's safe and sound."
"Oh Phoebe!" said Trelawney, "I'd give you a hug, but then you'd be covered in primer too. Our men are all quite smart out here. Although the plan was really
Francine's idea."
"It was only the lookout part," said Francine modestly. "Because while we were talking this morning, Trelawney told me how devastated you were at the nursing home yesterday. Of course, it was Hal's quick thinking that saved her then."
The Professor smiled at her fawning tone, but Nanny still looked worried.
"Professor, I don't want her out here unless you're with her from now on," she said tensely.
"But, Phoebe . . ." said Trelawney.
"But Phoebe nothing! For once in your life, you will listen to me and do as you're told!" she angrily snapped back, in a most un-Nannylike way.
"Yes, ma'am," replied Trelawney, genuinely repentant, for once in her life.
Quietly, she and Francine managed to clean themselves up. When Harvey Sloan was finally gone, they all piled into the car to go home.
Dinner was a silent affair. When it was over, the Professor chased the kids out and stayed to help with the dishes.
"You hate doing the dishes," she commented.
"I wanted to be alone with you," he replied, adding, "There is no better way to insure we'll be left alone, than if they've gotten out of kitchen duty."
She smiled in spite of herself. "I suppose that you want to talk about this afternoon."
"Not really," he said. "Not the part that you're thinking of, anyway."
She looked at him questioningly.
"There's really nothing more to say about Sloan. It's not in our control, other than the fact that Jim's got that work crew completely ready for him. I am going to suggest that someone call the station and tell them to keep him away until next Friday, when the big move in happens," he said.
"And then we'll control his access. We don't want him near Eliot either. He can take the story we give him, or leave it, but no more invasive, investigative journalism," he explained.
"You know, Aunt Agatha's right," she said, finally beginning to smile.
"About what?" he asked returning her smile.
"You are forceful," she answered.
"No more so than when I'm protecting my family," he replied. "You know we're just about finished with the project. Now, I have a lot of work I want to get done, but before I get started, I'd like to spend some quiet time with you, talking about earlier in the afternoon."
"I'd like that very much," she said, a soft glow starting to emerge in her face.
They settled themselves comfortably on the living room sofa, Phoebe curled up in his arms.
Softly stroking her hair he said, "Now, what was I saying about blue eyes?"
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After Friday night, the Professor decided that it would be helpful if he got all the kids out of the house on Saturday morning. There was a plan to work on the site for half a day. He called Prudence's friend Amy's mom to arrange a play date. Then he called Fr. Bob and told him that no matter what Phoebe had promised Mrs. Korsu, she needed a break.
Fr. Bob immediately agreed to help Joni with the kids for the weekend, as much as he could, and get some of the women from the parish to help when he had to meet his Saturday and Sunday obligations. Hal then called Pastor Paul. After he told him that Phoebe needed a break, he agreed to get some of the St. Andrew's women to help as well. Fr. Bob's weekend duties, between confessions and masses were a lot heavier than his own. Phoebe was initially furious when he told her, but in the end she realized that it was for the best.
Once again, he was going to spend the morning out on the work site. It was the only way that Phoebe would let Trelawney go. Yesterday afternoon had been another close call. But after two close calls in a row, two days in a row, Phoebe had reached her limit.
After he put her to bed early, he had been up working late last night. Because he had been spending so much time, and knew that he would be spending even more time, on the worksite, it was the only way to get his preparations for semester done. And Phoebe seemed in a worse state than ever. Every time he felt as if they were making progress it seemed that there was another setback. And she still had not realized that it was the unicorn that was invading her dreams and completely disrupting her peace of mind. Phil hadn't been able to explain it either.
Hal was beginning to wonder if all of this wasn't some kind of revenge on Cholmondeley's part for the breaking of the engagement. Who knew what he was capable of with his own psychic powers? But considering what they now knew about Trelawney, he wasn't sure why the broken engagement would trouble him so much. It had seemed that he was much more interested in the younger sister anyway. She was the one who had received the unicorn. Perhaps he thought that he would be getting both.
It was also in his mind that if indeed there had been some kind of a psychic connection attached to the necklace that if Trelawney had felt it broken, then he, wherever he was, would have felt it too. And part of the problem was that they didn't know where he was.
Aunt Justine had said that "they" would make sure that he never came near Trelawney again. But he wasn't even sure of whom "they" were. And no one seemed to have thought that ultimately, it would be Phoebe who would sustain the long-term damage from the affair. At this point he felt completely helpless. He had hoped that if he had calmed her down with the thoughts of the future that they had imagined earlier, it would chase the dark thoughts away. But her mind, or whatever seemed to be controlling her mind, would give her no peace.
The nightmare that had sent her down into his study had her shaking and crying before she reached him. Her eyes were wild. He had never seen her before in such a state. But worst of all she could not articulate anything that made any sense whatsoever about what she had dreamed. Her terror seemed to come from the darkness and unformed visions of monsters. Perhaps if she could identify them, they wouldn't be so terrifying. But she and her sister were clearly the victims. She was helpless to protect her. She could not even "dream" his presence to save them. The only way for her to seek his help was by waking up and finding him.
Even then, she sought shelter in his arms, but his comfort seemed inadequate. It had taken a long time to calm her down so that she could drink her tea, let alone go back to bed. She begged him to stay with him. She wanted to sleep in his arms to keep the horrors of her mind away. It was nearly two am when he finally got her back into her own bed. She had fallen into a restless sleep, but it was the best that he could do.
As he was leaving her room, he met Trelawney in the hallway. She looked like a little ghost with her pale skin and long white nightgown.
"I will go to her now," said the young girl. "She will sleep easier if she knows that I am by her side. She needs to know I am safe."
The Professor nodded. "Is the unicorn near?"
Trelawney looked at him with her deep blue eyes that were so much like her sister's. "It is good, Professor, that you now acknowledge the existence of the unicorn, even though he is not real. It will be easier for you to protect her."
"I know. I want to protect her. I want to drive him away forever," he answered.
She then changed her pose so that she was standing up quite straight with hands neatly folded in front of her. Hal waited for her to speak.
"You wish to be the one that sleeps by her side, but you know that you can't. That is good. If you did, it would do no good. Then she would lose the absolute faith that she has in her gallant knight. For the unicorn would still come. Until the unicorn is banished, you may not do that. You cannot kill the unicorn, because he is not real. But you can banish him, for he is no longer real," she said.
"How can I banish him?" he asked carefully, not wanting to disturb her affect. It seemed that her psychic powers were keenest when she was in this state, even if she didn't make a whole lot of sense.
"I do not know. You have to find him first. He is most elusive, because he is not real," she replied, then, "You are doing well tonight, Professor, you are quite tired, but still calm. You must remain calm to lure him out. As he waits in the shadows, so too must you. Unicorns are very sensitive to hunters, especially when they are gallant knights. But they cannot resist the maiden, even if they are not real."
She walked past him to join her sister.
"Trelawney? Thank you for your help," he said softly.
"You need not thank me. I do this for my sister," she replied and shut the door behind her.
As his exhaustion hit him full on, he barely made it to his own bed. There was not much left of the night, but he would snatch what little sleep he could. He had made big plans for Phoebe for later and wanted to have the wherewithal to enjoy them.
Although operating on about five hours sleep, he drove out to the work site with his three kids and Francine. He knew that there was no way that Phoebe was going to let Trelawney go without him today.
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