The Seventh Veil Ala GAMM

by Tabitha12

Psychology in the movies over the breakfast table in the Ghost and Mrs. Muir household reposted to fix disclaimers

Title: The Seventh Veil – (Ala GAMM)

Author: Mary

Rating: PG

Summary: Psychology and the movies over the breakfast table in the Ghost and Mrs. Muir's household.

Disclaimer: The characters from 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' belong to 20th Century Fox and David Gerber productions. No infringement is intended, no profit made, and they will be returned unharmed from whence they came. My story is for enjoyment only. It is based on an idea formulated in the 1946 film: "The Seventh Veil – Written by Muriel and Sidney Box, directed by Compton Bennett.

All other movies mentioned in this story are in context of the GAMM story only and no infringements are implied or intended.

All other characters, plots, story lines and development of GAMM characters belong to the author and may not be used or changed without express written permission.

Author's note: I got the idea for this story after finding out (quite a while ago, from Haze's web site) that Edward Mulhare appeared in the play version of this movie in 1959 – nine years before becoming our ghost! Many, many thanks to Chantal and Kathy for their edits and comments! It's been fun you two! :-D

The Seventh Veil

August 1974

Carolyn Muir stumbled to the breakfast table that Saturday morning with what Candy and Jonathan referred to as her "I-want-my-coffee-and-don't-bother-me-unless-something-is-on-fire-or-someone-is-bleeding face." She bumped into the doorframe as she made her way to the table; her emerald green eyes still half-closed, heavy with sleep.

"Excuse me," she said absently to the doorframe, not the slightest bit phased. "Martha?" she said her voice plaintive and sleepy, "Good morning! Please tell me you have coffee on, and it's ready!"

"Of course," Martha responded, not at all surprised at Carolyn's actions. "Would you like that intravenously, or with cream?"

"Sorry!" said Carolyn with another head splitting yawn; "I didn't get much sleep last night!"

"You really need to stop burning the midnight-oil, Mrs. Muir," Martha said as she placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of her employer, "It can't possibly be good for you." Martha stopped her scolding for a moment to pour another cup of coffee for herself. "I must say you were certainly quiet about it last night! I didn't hear you clattering away on that typewriter of yours at all! You must have been in a 'creative thinking mode,' not a typing mode," she added. "Or were you writing at all? I know you don't sleep as well when the Captain isn't pottering about the place during the wee small hours."

Carolyn gave out with another huge yawn. "I hope Daniel and the kids had a good time camping out on the beach, and yes, I must say, I don't sleep as well when Daniel and the kids aren't home, but that really wasn't the problem last night."

"What then? Too much coffee too late in the evening?" Martha pointed at the two cups in front of them. "You know, Dr. Ferguson told me that the older you get, the more caffeine can bother you. Maybe it's time you thought about cutting back a little?"

"I only had two cups yesterday!" Carolyn protested, but she gulped the hot liquid gratefully, "As a point in fact, that was not the problem last night either! But can you make another pot? I have a feeling that today I am going to need it before I really wake up."

"I could . . ." Martha answered dryly, ". . . but I think I am going to hold out on you if you don't tell me what the problem is! If you weren't working late, and you didn't have insomnia from too much coffee, what's the trouble? Why couldn't you sleep? Is there anything bothering you?"

"I want my coffee first." Carolyn said, stretching. "I think you'll hold out on me just to teach me a lesson if I tell you before I get it!"

"I can't do that!" Martha answered, "You pay the bills around here! Cross my heart! I won't scold! Now then, what were you worrying about? You really missed the old goat traipsing about last night, didn't you? You can tell me! He's not here to defend himself!"

"Yes, and no," Carolyn answered. "Now about more coffee? And one of your sticky-buns? I need an extra boost this morning! Then I swear I'll tell you."

"You better!" the housekeeper replied gruffly, "I have enough things to do around here without taking care of you when you wear yourself out and make yourself sick and . . ."

Martha stopped lecturing to the sleepy woman and put two sticky buns on to warm, while Carolyn held her hot coffee cup gently against one eye and then the other — as if she were trying to steam them open.

"That's not going to help," Martha said, patting her on the shoulder. "What you need is either more coffee or more sleep!"

". . . Can't go back to sleep. I have an article to write before the day is over, and I haven't even started it yet," Carolyn murmured.

"Is that why you couldn't sleep?" Martha queried, "Trying to think up an idea? You never did listen to my story about my adventure at the beer bust with the traveling salesman . . ."

"Maybe later, Martha!" Carolyn said with a grin, "No . . . I have a few ideas for the article today, although I can't say I am thrilled with any of them, but that will work itself out."

"You're driving me nuts!" Martha said, losing patience, "WHAT is the problem? Why couldn't you sleep? What kept you awake?"

"You're going to scold me like you would Candy and Jonathan . . ."

"Honestly, Mrs. Muir, you're worse than the kids!"

"Well . . ."

"Agg!!" Martha cried, throwing her hands in the air.

"All right! All right!" Carolyn laughed, as the coffee started taking effect on her system, "The truth is, I got hooked on the late show last night."

"Movie? I didn't hear the TV on last night!" Martha said as she placed a hot buttered sticky bun in front of Carolyn and one in front of her own place at the table.

"I watched the portable one Mom and Dad gave me for my last birthday," Carolyn replied, "The one in my bedroom."

"You're right . . ." Martha said, looking slightly annoyed, "And here I was worrying about you! I DO want to scold you! At your age! Staying up and watching the late show! ALONE yet! The idea! What was so all-fired interesting? An Old Errol Flynn movie? Did I miss Robin Hood again?" Martha chuckled.

"No . . . It wasn't Robin Hood. Although that WOULD have been a movie worth staying up for!" Carolyn smiled, thinking about her solid, staid housekeeper gushing over Errol Flynn.

"Sure would!" Martha almost leered. "I'll watch Errol Flynn anytime! So if it wasn't Errol Baby, what was the movie? When was it on? What time did it start? Come on, you are holding out on me!"

Carolyn yawned again. "I think I am beginning to feel more human!" she said, as she took another bite of her sticky bun, "I can't really blame just the late movie, Martha . . . I WAS having trouble getting to sleep without Daniel and the kids being around. The movie didn't even start until one in the morning!"

"That IS a late start!" said Martha. "So what was the movie?"

"It was called The Seventh Veil," said Carolyn. "And it was really VERY interesting!"

"You were up at one in the morning watching a movie about harem girls?" asked Martha, "What could possibly be interesting enough about harem dancers to keep you awake that late?"

Carolyn laughed. "The tile is sort of a play-on-words, I guess you'd call it. Not a harem dancer in sight, actually!"

"Darn," said Martha, as she snapped her fingers. "Thought maybe there was an Errol Flynn movie with male harem dancers I might have missed!"

Carolyn shook her head and grinned. "Nope. No Errol Flynn either. James Mason, Anne Todd and Herbert Lom star in it. It was filmed in 1946, in England, on a shoestring budget — at least that's what the fillers during the commercials said. I understand there was a fascination with psychology, especially Freudian psychology at that time. I missed the movie the first time around, I guess. I was only around ten years old then!" She took another swallow of coffee. "It was a play too, the TV said . . . but the last time it was produced as a play was after the movie, in the early fifties. The play had some Irish actor in it — can't remember his name now . . ."

Martha took another swallow of coffee and looked at her employer. "James Mason? Okay, I've heard of him. He was in The Phantom of the Opera . . . the one with Nelson Eddy? And didn't he play Norman Maine in A Star is Born, with Judy Garland?"

"That's the man!" Carolyn replied. "Really a very good actor!"

"Can't say I am familiar with the other two actors you mentioned though!" Martha said, "What was the movie about?"

"Well," said Carolyn, yawning again, "It's about this girl, Francesca. She's orphaned, and is brought up by her cousin, Nicholas. That's James Mason. He is the only one who has ever showed the poor girl any compassion. He's a cripple, and wanted to be a musician himself and couldn't. He pays for — trains her to become a concert pianist."

"Sounds like a good start to a movie," Martha grinned, "So it's a romance?"

"Sort of a romance with a twist." Carolyn responded. "The story begins with her attempting suicide. Her psychiatrist, that's Herbert Lom, tries to identify the roots of her fears by pulling back what he calls the Seven Veils of her psyche. He thinks if he can do that, he can discover the real root of her problems, and get rid of her psychosomatic fear of not being able to play the piano and make her see her life clearly. The rest of the movie is told in flashback; more or less from Francesca's point of view while she is under hypnosis."

"So what happens?" Martha asked, intrigued.

"Well, of course the girl rebels against her guardian a few times — gets involved with a musician — Nicholas quashes that romance because she is still under age, and then, when she is older, she becomes involved with an artist Nicholas hires to paint her portrait."

"Then what?"

"Well, this is where it gets unrealistic, as far as I am concerned," said Carolyn. "Nicholas deliberately crashes the car that they are driving in and ruins her hands, so she can't play the piano any more. But through analysis, Francesca comes to realize that Nicholas did it because he loves her and she realizes that he is the only man she really truly trusts and loves, and ends up going back to him at the end, and they live happily ever after, I assume."

"Well!" said Martha, "That certainly ends it with a bang and a thump! Sounds like a really dumb thing for Francesca to do to me!"

"Me too," Carolyn answered. "But it was really the psychiatrist's idea that interested me."

"What? About the Seven Veils of the psyche?" asked Martha, interested.

"Right," said Carolyn. "The psychiatrist says near the opening of the movie, before all the flashbacks start, that the human psyche is comparable to the Seven Veils of a harem dancer. That one veil of a person's psyche is lifted for an acquaintance, maybe two or three for a good friend, or maybe a work acquaintance, four for a really, really good friend, or close family member and five or six for a lover or husband. But the seventh veil of a person's psyche is never lifted to another. In short, no one ever knows everything there is to know about another person, regardless how long they have known them. The psychiatrist maintains that it is this last layer that has to be unveiled in order to start healing a damaged psyche. There has to be total exposure and total trust before rebuilding of a mind can begin. And that's what he ends up doing with Francesca."

"I guess that makes a certain amount of sense, in an abstract sort of way," said Martha, as she refreshed their coffee cups again. "I can't say I find the end result in the movie that satisfying, but I guess it gives you something to think about!"

"Well, it kept me interested until the end of the movie, anyway!" laughed Carolyn. "The music in the movie was very nice — all classical piano concertos, of course, and James Mason isn't too bad to look at, and I LOVE his voice! I've been trying to decide if there might be a feature article it, with a little work and research."

"That has got to be the most ridiculous idea I have ever heard!" roared Captain Daniel Gregg, as he materialized in the kitchen, "I thought I knew you better than that, my dear!"

Carolyn and Martha turned and looked at the spectre. "My point exactly!" said Carolyn, triumphantly, "The very fact that you assumed that you knew me well enough to know what I thought, or would think about something is proof that no one really knows everything there is to know about another person! And good morning, by the way! What do you have against psychoanalysis and psychiatrists, Daniel?"

"And a good morning to you, my dear!" he responded with a tender smile. "But in answer to your question, psychoanalysis is a new science, and mankind is still experimenting with it. But mankind has to experiment with mankind — not with animals, as with other miraculous things that have been developed in the last hundred years —"

"Like the ballpoint pen?" Carolyn grinned, while Martha looked puzzled again.

"I think you understand what I am talking about," the Captain said. "Mankind can keep working and find out why the automobile won't run, or the rocket won't fly, but they cannot analyze the minds of neurotic dogs or cats or guinea pigs and find out why they became that way, and the animals cannot tell man their problems because they cannot converse with them on an equal level. Psychoanalysis is rather out of my territory in any case — as it is yours."

"That's a rather strong statement, Daniel!" said Carolyn, as she took another bite of her breakfast.

"I do believe that psychiatrists, and psychoanalysis have been helpful to thousands of people in almost as many different ways, my dear." His eyes darkened for a moment. "That is except for your fascination with it, shall we say the first year you lived here? And that blasted wharf-rat McNally . . . If I had MY way I still think I should have reported him for professional misconduct . . . "

Carolyn gave the seaman an alarmed look. "Daniel," she said, keeping her voice calm, "You handled that situation beautifully almost six years ago! But you still haven't answered my question . . . What is this problem you are having with the theory?"

"It's not the theory inasmuch as where it is being used." The Captain said soberly. "The inner-workings of the human mind should not be bandied about in the cinema."

"Bandied about?" Carolyn asked, bewildered.

"Bandied." The Captain nodded firmly. "All these movies — such as the one you said you saw last night, my dear . . . they give people the wrong idea. They start thinking either they have a psychological problem or all their nearest and dearest friends do. It creates a bunch of either armchair psychologists that in turn stir up more trouble, or hoards of patients with imagined illnesses!"

"But Daniel . . ."

"Rather like your PTA friend, Mrs. Post." Daniel added. "Have you not told me she has watched Marcus Welby or Medical Center on Tuesday night and showed up at that peep Ferguson's office the following morning swearing she has the disease that was on television the night before?"

"Well, yes, but . . ."

"The study of psychoanalysis is no different," Captain insisted stubbornly. "Can you not see that? All that happens with the making of these . . . these trivial movies, is ideas spread — before you know it, I could sneeze and you would decide I had some deep psychological reason for it."

"Now that's something I would like to see!" Martha grinned. "A sneezing ghost!"

"You missed your chance, Martha!" Carolyn smiled and took another swallow of coffee. "Daniel has only done that once — about . . . five years ago!"

"The Captain sneezed?" Martha turned to the seaman in shock. "How could you do that?"

"You attacked me with your feather duster, Martha!" Gregg said, a scowl forming on his face. "And I don't really care to discuss it any further!"

Carolyn gave her housekeeper an 'I'll tell you later' look, and Martha let the subject drop. "Don't you think we are getting off the track here?" she said, changing the subject. "I still don't see what harm it could do to discuss or use a science that has been around publically since Freud!"

"Are you three arguing AGAIN?" Jonathan queried, coming into the room and giving his mother and Martha a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Don't worry, Jonathan!" Candy said, following behind him, I read an article in the paper yesterday that said that "arguing is the most intelligent, and the best way to work on your hostilities and decrease frustration levels." Quickly she followed Jonathan with a hug and kiss for her mother and the housekeeper and sat at the kitchen table with her brother.

"For who?" Jonathan argued back. "Maybe for the ones arguing, but not for listeners!"

"I can just tell you what I read, Jonathan!" Candy added. "Psychologists say it's healthy."

"Just make sure you remind Mom about that the next time she hollers at us for arguing!" Jonathan grumbled. "What were you guys fussing about this time? Can I have . . . ?" Jonathan started.

"May I . . . ?" prompted Carolyn.

"MAY I have a sticky bun?" Jonathan amended his statement.

"Me too?" asked Candy, pulling up a chair at the table. "Maybe then you can tell us what you were arguing about."

"We were NOT arguing," the Captain started. "I was merely stating my opinion."

"And I was stating mine," Carolyn interjected. "It just so happens that my opinion and Daniel's aren't the same."

"Sounds like arguing to me," said Jonathan. "Hey, Can, can you put me on two buns?"

"Sure, Jonathan. But were you 'stating your opinions' about?" Candy asked her mother as she spread butter over the top of the buns and put them in the oven to warm.

"Psychology and the movies, for want of a better term," said her mother. "Daniel doesn't think it should be allowed."

"That is NOT what I said, I said that in many cases, psychology has been misrepresented in the cinema." Daniel replied. "And it has been overused in the movies and on television and twisted."

"But, isn't that what the study of psychology is about?" Jonathan asked, puzzled. "The study of 'twisted' minds and how to make them better again?"

"Not when psychology itself is what has been warped, Jonathan."

"What do you mean, Captain?"

"I mean that overall, I think that the cinema, and television especially, have misrepresented the study of the human mind, and to paraphrase Arthur Conan Doyle, they have manipulated and twisted facts to suit theories, not developed theories that suit the facts."

"Can you give an example of what you mean, Captain?" Candy asked, standing up and going to the refrigerator for a glass of milk. "We have been studying psych in school for the last few weeks or so as a part of my Sociology class. Like Mr. Kreuger says, 'give me a practical application.'"

"Very well, my dear." The Captain nodded, turning to the now-fourteen and a half year old, thinking how much she had matured in the last year especially. "The first movie that comes to my mind is Spellbound. You have seen it? It played at the Hitchcock festival in town two weeks ago."

"I saw it! But I sure didn't know YOU did!" Candy grinned. "Since when did you become a Hitchcock fanatic?"

"I try to keep abreast of what my family is interested in," the Captain said with a smile. "Besides, you attended an evening show with your friends. I wanted to check at least once and make sure you were all right."

"But you stayed for the whole movie?" Candy asked, deciding not to challenge the seaman's interest in her social life. "You must have really liked it!"

"More like I was drawn into it," the Captain replied. "Mostly though it was because that Gregory Peck chap was in it."

"You a Gregory Peck fan, Captain?" Jonathan reached over to put two slices of toast in the toaster.

"Not really a fan, as in fanatic Jonathan, no, but I remembered seeing him in Moby Dick on television a while back and wanted to see what his part was like in Spellbound. Also I must admit I was somewhat dumbfounded when I saw the fellow playing a much younger part than he played as Ahab, and remembered that ninny Claymore thought he looked like him!"

Candy and Jonathan snorted into their milk and looked at their mother. "When was this Mom?" Jonathan gasped. "I can't imagine anyone who looks LESS like Gregory Peck!"

"We're getting off the subject here," Candy interrupted, but she was giggling also. "I liked Spellbound, Captain! What was the problem you had with it?"

"Well," said Daniel Gregg, warming to his audience, "Here we have a man suffering from what turns out to be his own psychoses that result in amnesia. Peck, or Ballentyne as we find out he really is, has no training in psychology, yet takes the place of a murdered doctor – passing himself off as a doctor of psychology, in fact the new head of the institution! No one sees through him at first, even after some very basic mistakes. A woman, a psychiatrist herself, not only doesn't catch on immediately that he is not who he says he is, but falls in love with him to boot, and eventually risks her own reputation, and finally her very life to be with him!"

"I think I might make an angel food cake for dinner Mrs. Muir," said Martha. "And what else Captain?" she asked, reaching into the lower cupboard and pulling out the cream of tartar, vanilla, sugar and flour. "So far it sounds like a nice romance. I mean you know everything is going to work out, right?"

"Well on the surface it is. But the fact remains that the movie, or the book it was based on really, pushes you into believing that the actress, I do not remember her name . . ."

"Ingrid Bergman, Captain," said Martha.

". . . really is a Freudian psychologist because she has a European accent. Then to validate it even more, they both run away to see yet another doctor with a Freudian accent, that analyzes the entire case, including a rather cryptic dream, in the space of fifteen minutes, thereby pushing the audience into believing the rather thin plot even further just because the accents are right. Besides," he added, "I just do not believe that you can bury an event from your past for as long as Peck did in the film. Really Candy! At the end you find out the accident that started this man's 'psychosis' happened when he was around ten years old — and nothing is uncovered until the man is at least thirty? Blast it. It's not logical!"

"My teacher commented on some of what you have mentioned," said Candy, mildly. "But I think you missed part of the point of the movie, Captain! Yes, it was simplistic in some ways, but really, it did bring the study of Freudian psychiatry and the Id and Ego to a new awareness." The girl shrugged. "But be honest! Haven't you ever looked at something — something that had nothing really to do with anything and have it remind you of something else? That's really all the movie was saying, and in some ways that's all Freudian psychology is, the study of the mind and how it works and reacts — especially concerning repressed memories. In the movie, Ballentyne would look at parallel lines or the color white in combination with the lines and remember his childhood accident, and even though he had blocked out the trauma, it freaked him out, even when he didn't remember what he was getting freaked out about." The girl grinned. "You know. It's a little like looking at a cow in a field and remembering you need milk."

"And I maintain that psychosis can last for quite a while if they're not treated," said Carolyn. "I know, I know . . . I'm not a psychologist, so technically I can't really say for sure if that part of the movie is flimsy or not, but I can tell you, specifically, that there are a few events in my life . . . some of which you KNOW about Daniel . . ." here she gave the seaman a dark look, "That took me many years to even admit to myself, let alone get over!"

The seaman shrugged and gave the beautiful woman before him an affectionate look as he ceased his pacing and leaned against the kitchen counter. "You might have a point, there . . ." he said, his voice calmer, "I concede your point, my dear."

Carolyn smiled. "And I, in turn, agree that the whole cabin thing and the dream analyzing in the movie was a rather academic attempt at making psychology 'comprehensible to the masses,' so to speak. It DID feel a little like talking down to me!"

"And I will still debate the entire plot!" said the Captain. "The only reason the movie works at all is because Alfred Hitchcock is an extremely talented director."

"Well, that's something!" Carolyn beamed. "At least you think 'Hitch' is talented! How about a different movie? Where else do you feel that psychology was misrepresented? How many movies HAVE you snuck into at the Schooner Bay Theater?"

"Well, I admit that a number of films that best prove my statement ARE Hitchcock's my dear, but yes, I can think of another," the Captain said, ignoring Carolyn's 'sneaking' comment. "There was, for instance, that film that was showing during the salute to . . . what did you call it? Film Noir last month . . . That one wasn't Hitchcock . . . The name escapes me . . . has that lovely Gene Tierney in it . . . Ah yes! Laura. The one where that policeman character falls in love with the woman Laura's portrait before he even meets her! When she has supposedly just been murdered! Psychosis! Obsession! Falling in love with a portrait? How realistic is that?"

"Oh I think that might be VERY realistic, given the right circumstances," said Carolyn softly, almost to herself.

"I still say most of what is presented on the subject and study of the human mind in the cinema is pure, unadulterated bilge," said the Captain. "Tell me, do you honestly feel that the human mind can be programmed – brainwashed into committing murder, as in The Manchurian Candidate, or be coerced into believing they are going crazy, like the woman in Gaslight, or there are indeed psychotic baby-sitters running around like the main character in Don't Bother to Knock?" The Captain folded his arms in front of him. "I stand by my original statement, the treatment if psychology in the cinema has been entirely too overstated and misused. Why, even that fraud, Sean Callahan tried to use it to his advantage!"

"What on EARTH are you talking about Captain?" Carolyn interrupted, "Sean didn't act like ANY of the characters you just mentioned!"

"Did he or did he not say to you, and I quote, I'd like to carry you off on a white charger – you bring out all my suppressed romanticism . . . unquote?!" and the Captain scowled again. "Suppression! Wants and desires! Complete and utter nonsense! He tried to sway you with . . ."

"And did I, or did I not shoot him down in two seconds flat?" Carolyn fired back, "The LAST thing Sean Callahan was, was suppressed!" Carolyn scoffed, "But, my dear Captain, I am not so sure about YOU sometimes!"

"Well, psychologically speaking, it looks to ME like you are about to rave again, Captain!" Jonathan commented, biting into his second piece of toast. Candy gave her mother a curious look and the seaman's "Sean Callahan" comment, but thought better of it and let the moment pass.

"Well, yes, I suppose I am!" The seaman gave the twelve-year-old a sharp look. "And you are getting entirely too smart for your years, lad!"

Jonathan only shrugged and pointed to a still-empty chair at the table. "You may think you know us pretty well, Captain, but we have learned a LITTLE something about you in the last six years too, and I mean YOU, not ghosts." Jonathan stopped and looked at the seaman carefully. "You aren't going to be happy until you finish saying your piece, now why don't you sit down and tell us what it is?"

"It's another one of Hitchcock's movies, I'm afraid!" the seaman replied, taking a seat at the table. "You have seen the movie, Vertigo?"

Jonathan nodded his head. "Yes. I saw it the same time Candy did. That's the one about the detective with a fear of heights."

"Correct," the seafarer nodded.

"Coffee, Captain?" Martha asked, placing a cup before him.

"Yes, thank-you, Martha."

"So, that's a fairly common fear, Captain." Jonathan prodded as the seaman added a teaspoon of sugar to his coffee. "What is your hang up about that one?"

"Well as I am sure you recall, the main character retires from the police force because he develops a fear of heights."

"Yes, Daniel," Carolyn interjected. "I saw it too, remember? We watched it together! You popped into the theater and watched it with Martha and me. So your point is what?"

"The basic fact that the man, a policeman, a man supposedly trained to handle all sorts of circumstances that come up in police work could develop a fear of heights simply by slipping on a roof and hanging off of a building is preposterous," said the seaman.

"And exactly what makes you such an expert in rooftops?" asked Martha, getting the eggs out of the refrigerator and placing them on the counter, "I know you spend a lot of time on the widow's-walk, but that isn't – "

"Not on roofs', Martha!" the seaman scowled. "High places! I wasn't HATCHED here in Gull Cottage, you know!"

"No need to get sarcastic!" Martha scowled back. "So?"

"My point is I have been in up high places many times! Higher, and much less solid places than the roof of Gull Cottage. When I was still a common seaman and did the 'tarring down' for instance."

"What's that?" asked Candy as she removed the sticky buns from the oven, "You spread tar on your ship? Whatever for?"

"Maintenance, Candy," the seaman replied. "It's done approximately every six months as a protection against the natural elements for vessels on long voyages. On the canvas, and almost everywhere else in the rigging. The whole crew goes aloft, starting at the royal-mast-head and at the fore and the tar and is spread, starting at the main masthead and working down from there — tarring the shrouds, backstays, ties, and runners and then going out the yardarms and work their way back tarring the lifts and foot ropes." The seaman paused and sipped his coffee thoughtfully. "The hard part of the operation comes when one has to tar the stays. One had to ride a gant line for that part of the operation. The point is, there you are, aloft, hanging between heaven and earth with only a rope — if the rope breaks, or slips, or is not attended to, or let go, the seaman riding the line could very easily fall overboard, or break his neck."

"Wow!" said Jonathan, his eyes sparkling, "That sounds like a blast! Better than any ride I can think of!" There was a light of recognition in his eyes. "Hey! That's why seaman used to be called 'Jolly Jack Tar's!'"

"Well, I understand the TAR part anyway!" Martha smiled as she refreshed the Captain's cup with a good-natured smile.

"You wouldn't think so if you have ever slipped or had the line drop on you when you were riding it," said the Captain soberly, ignoring Martha's comment. "The point is, it was a part of a seaman's job and responsibility."

"And you have never slipped?" Carolyn asked.

"Yes, I have, and that is my point exactly," the Captain answered. "It's that when I saw that movie, the first thing I thought of was the few times I have clung to a line for dear life a hundred feet in the air. I was brought back to earth, dusted off, usually slapped on the back, and sent back up again, maybe with the comment that it was a "close call." But did I crawl into my bunk and cringe like that jellyfish Claymore or develop a crippling, all consuming fear of heights like that man in the movie? I did not!" Now standing and pacing, the seaman continued. "And they based the rest of the movie on that one incident! That man's so-called fear leads to his retirement from the police force, the murder of one woman, and eventually the death of the woman who helped plot her murder!"

"But, the first woman had already been killed," Carolyn pointed out. "Besides, the whole fear of heights thing was only to lead in to the rest of the story about the murder and the romance and then him finding out about the whole plan to kill the wife and use him as the witness at the end, and him facing his fear."

"But the fact remains, the character develops a psychosomatic fear of heights, just like that, and has to change his whole way of life because of one incident. The head of the police force should have shoved him back up on the roof and been done with it," the seaman added as he sat down again. "It leads the audience to believe that a crippling fear can pop up out of nowhere, and then be 'cured' just like that — usually at a much-needed point in the plot."

"Now wait a minute Captain!" Jonathan started, "Remember when I was learning how to dive last year and I made that belly flop and sank? And how it took all of you getting into the pool with me for me to be brave enough to try it again? Wouldn't you call that a real fear that had to be conquered with time and patience and love?"

"I remember!" said Martha. "And I hope you know it was only because I love you, Jonathan that I agreed to let ANYONE see me in a bathing suit!"

"You weren't nearly as interesting in yours as seeing the Captain in HIS," remarked Candy with a smile. "Where on earth DID you get those Speedo's, Captain?"

"Never MIND Candy," said Carolyn hurriedly, a flush coming to her face. "We're getting off the track again. The point is having all of us there helped Jonathan confront his fear, and a very real one it was."

"Yeah, but the Captain's idea about facing your fears and charging ahead didn't work when he tried to invisibly help you try out for the Oysters," said Candy. "Remember? At least not right away."

"But, Mom's idea to help Elroy face his fear of people DID help him, right Mom?" Jonathan argued back. "So each situation is different! Do you ever hear from him, Captain?"

"Who? Applegate? No, thank goodness!" the Captain said with a shudder. "Your dear mother took care of that problem quite nicely!"

"Looks to me like EVERYONE has their own secret fears!" commented Martha under her breath as she sat down at the table with the rest of the family.

"What about — not secret fears, but unanswered questions and/or desires?" Candy asked thoughtfully.

"Which movie are you thinking of, Candy?" Carolyn asked.

"Lady in the Dark," Candy answered. "It was a movie, but I've never seen it. Actually it was a play first — a musical actually." And she looked at the seaman carefully. "It's part of the reason I got interested in psychology to begin with. I found the record in the school library and listened to it and then checked out the libretto and read it. I think I am going to use it for the psych essay I have to get done by Wednesday. Do you know the play, Mom?"

Carolyn grinned. "I sure do! Ginger Rogers and Ray Milland in the movie — Gertrude Lawrence on Broadway!! I loved it! Jenny was my favorite number!" She smiled at Daniel Gregg. "Do you know that one Daniel? I believe Moss Hart wrote it after going through a long psychoanalysis of his own. I remember reading somewhere that after the play became a hit, that a critic joked that it was one way for Hart to get back all the money he had paid to his psychiatrist."

"It rings a bell, I think," the seaman responded thoughtfully.

"Well, not with me!" Jonathan interrupted. "What's it about?"

"Well, I think the movie was released in 1944, so the play was a little before that," Candy said, taking the lead. "Like I said, I listened to the record at Susan's because our record player STILL needs a new needle! It's about a woman. She's the editor of a fashion magazine, and like, three men are dying to marry her, but she is really unhappy, it's starting to affect her job, and she's getting these headaches, and she goes to see a doctor, who can't find anything wrong, so he sends her to see a psychiatrist who gets to the root of her problems by analyzing her dreams. Her dreams are the musical parts of the musical. All glamorous — about marriage and romance and her career and the men she is thinking about marrying — stuff like that. Finally, at the end there's a scene where she dreams of having to be forced to make up her mind, to make a decision about what she really wants for herself and her future, and the dreams are really how her mind and her subconscious are helping her work through her problems." Candy turned back to her mother. "It sounds quite simple, I know, but I really liked it. I think you can tell a lot about your feelings from your dreams."

"Poppycock and bilge water!" snapped the Captain. "Is that also not the movie that blamed the woman's mother for all of her problems?" He looked at Carolyn and then at the teenager. "Are you really going to tell me that kind of analysis is anything short of nonsense? Truthfully, Candy! Do you really think it is fair to blame the poor mothers of the world for everything, as seems to be psychiatrists' wont as of late? All those poor long-suffering, broad-shouldered mothers of the world! Why the concept is as old as Oedipus!"

Candy flushed. "No, Captain! You're missing the point! I wasn't talking about the blaming the mother for everything part! That was just kind of where they had to lay the blame in this one case, and besides, that was another fad of psychiatry at the time. I know that! It's the dreams part I'm talking about!" She turned to her mother. "Honestly, Mom! Does Captain Gregg argue with you like this ALL the time?! It's amazing you get anything written at all!"

"Your mother has started any number of those arguments, my dear young lady!" the Captain muttered, but seeing that he was navigating deeper waters than he originally anticipated, Daniel stopped speaking and took a moment to pour another cup of coffee for himself and then smiled at the earnest-looking face before him.

"I'm sorry, Candy!" he said apologetically. "I really was not trying to attack your theories or ideas. What else were you going to say? I promise, I will not say anything until you have finished."

"Thanks, Captain!" and Candy smiled. "As I was saying, I liked the dream analysis part, because it's happened to me."

"How so?" Martha and Jonathan asked at the same time.

"Well, just different things," Candy said. "Like the night before a big test, sometimes I dream the test. And sometimes, especially when I know I am weak in one area, that's what I dream about and I wake up and study that area again before the test starts."

"That's happened to me too," said Jonathan with a grin. "Or I dream about playing in a baseball game the night before we really play it."

"And sometimes a dream will just tell me something," Candy continued. "Like that time I had to make a decision about going to a movie that I really wanted to go to or stay and help Linda Coburn study because I promised her. I really wanted to lie and say something came up, and go to the movie, but my dream, or my subconscious told me it just wasn't the right thing to do. I dreamed about what would happen if I copped out on Linda and decided to do what was right . . . what I promised."

Jonathan turned to his mother and the seaman. "Has that happened to you Mom?" He looked quizzically at the faces before him. "Have you ever had a dream help you with something you couldn't figure out, or didn't want to think about while you were awake?"

Carolyn turned pink, remembering a certain dance to a certain waltz and a kiss that didn't happen that she had to wait almost a year for. "Oh yes Jonathan!" she said softly. "Most definitely! Dreams can tell you what you are really feeling, and sometimes help with what you are fighting within yourself!"

"There was our Christmas dream, too!" grinned Jonathan. "But the Captain did that one! It was just so cool! I STILL wish we could have that one again!"

"Well, as I have said before, dreams are not real, and that's the pity of it all!" The Captain said with a sigh. "They are but a moment in time, and cannot last forever, unfortunately . . . and all the wishing in the world will not make that happen!"

"But they can help you work things out Captain!" Candy said quickly. "I think you see my point!"

"Yes, Candy, I can!" and the seaman glanced over at Carolyn who was staring off into space, lost in her own world. "I can indeed . . . " and briefly the seamen's thoughts shifted back to the family's Christmas dream of 1969 and the first kiss he and Carolyn had shared on the front porch of Gull Cottage. The Captain cleared his throat softly, and tried to get Carolyn's attention. Finally she turned back to the table, smiling, and poured another cup of coffee for herself and her housekeeper.

"You look like you have something else to add to this debate, Martha!" said the Captain, turning to the older woman with a glint in his eye. "What say you on this discussion? Do you thing psychology and psychiatrists are portrayed accurately in the cinema?"

Martha shrugged and leaned a bit further back in her seat. "Personally, I don't see anything wrong with a little dramatic license in the movies Captain!" and she smiled at the seaman. "I mean, really! The writers, directors and actors only have ninety minutes to two-and-a-half hours to tell a story from beginning to end – as long as they make an effort and tell an interesting story, I really don't have a problem with it. You aren't supposed to take everything on the movies as gospel . . . that's not realistic either! It's the really psycho people movies that get to me!" she continued. "The ones I watch, and remember and think about the next day that still scare me! Especially the Hitchcock ones!"

"Like, which ones, Martha?" asked Jonathan, "I can't imagine you getting scared of anything!"

"Well, sometimes they sneak up on you," Martha grinned. "One of my favorites, for instance, while not a really recent movie is one that DID make a sensation when it came out – Strangers on a Train."

"I remember that one!" said Carolyn. "That was one of the first Hitchcock movies my parents took me to see." She shivered. "When I first saw it, I thought it was a nice thriller, but the more I thought about it the scarier it got because the more I decided it really could happen."

"That's it, exactly," Martha agreed. "The type of movies that are just real enough to GET to you!"

"What's this movie about, Martha?" asked the Captain. "I must admit, I do not remember seeing it. Psycho people, you say?"

The housekeeper nodded. "The movie came out in — 1950, I think. You see, there's this tennis pro — Guy Hanes. He meets a complete stranger named Bruno Anthony on a train. They chat for a while, and Bruno starts talking about how an 'exchange' murder between two complete strangers would be the murder no one could solve because how could they find the murderer when he is a total and complete stranger with absolutely no connection whatsoever to the murdered victim?"

"Fascinating!" said the Captain, "Then what happens?"

"Well, Anthony also insists that he could kill Hanes' wife, who, according to the local gossip columns, has been cheating on him, and Hanes could kill his father because he won't give him money he thinks he deserves."

"Wicked!" Candy exclaimed. "You're right Martha! Really spooky, and just a little close to real life! There ARE crazy people out there! What happens next?"

"Well, Guy sort of humors Bruno, and then gets off at the next stop, thinking that this guy is just a LITTLE strange, but thinks nothing of it . . . until his wife turns up dead! Bruno has followed through with the 'deal' he says they made on the train, and wants Guy to do his part and kill his father! The man is completely crackers!"

"So what happens?" asked the seaman.

"Oh, I can't tell you THAT Captain! It would spoil the end of the movie for you if you haven't seen it!" and she smirked. "I can see you're hooked. The point is, Strangers on a Train is a movie that uses a real type of psychosis — that is Bruno, who is a complete sociopath, a man who cannot distinguish right from wrong, to draw you into a nice, tight little thriller. And even though you walk into it knowing you are seeing a 'let's pretend' movie, you find yourself believing it."

"Blast!!" the seaman mouthed softly and lifted an eyebrow. "And after you saw this movie, did it keep you from striking up conversations with strangers? Was it really that realistic?"

"For about a week it was!" Martha grimaced. "At the time the movie came out, I was living in Boston and commuting on a train quite regularly — and for a while there I didn't want to talk to anyone!"

"Females!" was the Captain's response. "You honestly believe there are people running around like that?"

"I do, Captain!" Candy responded. "I know it's a movie, but about the time you get old enough to know scary stuff like that only happening in the movies, real life hits, and something awful happens for real . . . like . . . like Charles Manson!"

Carolyn shuddered. "Oh Candy! Did you have to bring HIM up? I will NOT discuss that man at the breakfast table!" And the Captain looked baffled. Candy rolled her eyes and gave the seaman an 'I'll tell you later' look all her own.

"Mr. Kreuger covered him briefly in class last week, Mom," said Candy. "Not all the gory details, but some things about him in relationship to what we have been studying. But actually, if it weren't for the fact that, that awful man is real, and what he did was real, it's a much more interesting story than say Norman Bates in Psycho or what's-her-name in Play Misty for Me."

"Candace Natalie Muir!!" Carolyn half-rose from her chair, completely awake now, "I told you MOST SPECIFICALLY you were NOT, under ANY circumstances, EVER to go see that movie! You know it's rated . . ."

"Whoa, Mom!" Candy stopped her. "Wait! It's cool! I never saw the movie!"

"Then how . . ." Carolyn stopped and sank back down into her chair and Candy gave her mother a long-suffering sigh.

"Penelope Hassenhammer gave us the entire lowdown on it Mom. Scene by scene practically. She and her mother went to see it six months ago when it played at the Star-Vu Drive-in up in Keystone."

"But you never SAW the movie, right?" Carolyn asked, with an edge to her voice.

"Gosh, no, MOM! It's rated R!" Candy grinned. "I know you too well! You'd kill me if I saw an R rated movie when I wasn't eighteen!"

"Got that right!" and Carolyn loosened up a bit. "Only for me you can make that twenty-one!" and she relaxed in her chair again.

"I believe I have heard a little something of this one!" Daniel interjected. "Wasn't that the one that was advertised with the tag line: The scream you hear may be your own? And it came out first — what? Around three years ago, correct?"

"That's right." Candy nodded. "The movie was re-released at the drive in. Penelope just turned fifteen and her Mom asked what she wanted for her birthday, and it was and that's what she asked for — to go see the movie, so her mom got her in."

"SOME children in this town are too darn spoiled!" Carolyn commented under her breath, and the seaman nodded.

"So what's the movie about?" asked Jonathan, "Was it really scary?"

"Sure sounds like it from what Penelope said!" Candy shuddered. "It sounded really cool, but I think hearing about it was enough for me — but it is sort of a newer version, in a way, of Psycho and Strangers — but with more blood and sex and stuff."

"But what is it about, Candy?" Jonathan interrupted again, "Are you stalling?"

"No, bro, just trying to be accurate!" And Candy gave him a superior look. "It starts with this disc jockey. You see he does the all night show, and people call in with requests, just like people do now. There's this one fan, a woman, that actress, what's her name, I forget, who keeps calling him at night and asking him to play a blues/jazz version of that song, 'Misty,' and the DJ does. Eventually they meet, and have a casual affair. The DJ had broken up with his regular girlfriend at the time." Candy paused.

"Of course you can guess what happens! The DJ gets back with his regular girlfriend, that's Donna Mills, and the fan goes bonkers, and is bound and determined that if she doesn't get to be the DJ's girlfriend then Donna doesn't either. She goes on a kind of rampage — Ends up killing a maid who has come to clean, who finds her at his beach house when she shouldn't be, and then she breaks in on the girlfriend who is staying at the DJ's house and terrorizes her and is going to kill her and leave her for the DJ to find, but the DJ figures out what she has done and goes to rescue the girlfriend. The slasher woman goes after the DJ and finally the DJ kills her at the end." Candy swallowed the last of her milk. "Clint Eastwood played the DJ Mom — and I think Penelope said that he directed the film too! You know how Grandmother loves him in westerns! I wonder if she and Grandfather saw the movie? You know she wants to see all the movies he's in!"

Carolyn laughed. "Probably! Although I bet she didn't know what she was getting into! Quite a different character than Rowdy Yates in Rawhide!"

Martha looked a little confused. "Well, gee, Candy! I know you are telling us what someone told you, but rated R? It doesn't sound that much different from Psycho to me, and that one wasn't rated R!"

"Well, Penny said that when the woman kills someone, she gets pretty crazy and really slashes up her victim, and you really see the blood. You don't SEE lots of blood in Psycho. Hitchcock kinda leaves that to the imagination, which is scarier sometimes, and what little blood you do see is in black and white, not color. Also she said there's a really sexy scene when the DJ gets back together with his girlfriend," said Candy. "That's probably why the R rating. Did you know that's where that song, 'The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face' came from?"

"Anyway, Misty sounds sorta like Martha's movie Strangers. The only thing, which I am sure you'll appreciate Captain . . ." and she nodded to the seaman, "Is that like with Bruno, in Strangers, I find it a little hard to believe that this psycho-woman could have been wandering around loose for all these years and no one figured her out before! But to paraphrase Claymore, 'That's the movies for you!'"

Carolyn and the Captain nodded at the teenager's assessment, both looking relieved, but turned toward her again as Candy snorted and started giggling.

"What's so funny?" Martha asked as she rose and began to wipe the kitchen counter.

"Nothing!" Candy gasped, "I was just thinking about what we did after Penelope told us the story of the movie!"

"Well, don't stop now!" And the seaman raised his eyebrows.

Candy started sniggering again. "We called the radio station in Pripet," Candy gasped. "It's really not my fault! Penelope and Linda dared me . . ."

"What!?" Jonathan fumed. "What did you do?"

"Well, I called the radio station, and then Linda and Penelope got on the extension, and I asked the DJ . . ." Here Candy started snorting again, pounding on the table top, and then she pulled herself together once more. "Anyway, when the DJ answered, I said really soft and sexy . . . 'Play Misty For Me' . . ."

Carolyn covered the grin coming to her face. "And then what happened?"

"Well, there was this pause, and then the poor guy sort of answered me in a totally freaked out voice, 'THAT'S NOT FUNNY!!!' and then we all laughed at him, and hung up!"

"Oohhh, that's bad!!" Jonathan exclaimed"I really wish I could have been there!"

"So, am I in trouble now Mom?" Candy asked with another giggle, "I did TELL you about it!"

"I'll have to think about that!" Carolyn smiled and turned to Daniel Gregg, who was still seated at the table.

"Seems like you two are at something of a draw," Martha said dryly. "Personally, I don't see anything wrong with psychology, as long as it's done in an accurate and tasteful manner — none of these slasher movies for me!" She looked at the family seated around the table. "In any case, I still have dishes to do, and a cake to bake. It's Saturday morning — why don't you people go DO something?"

"Martha is correct, my dear!" said Daniel Gregg, looking at the children and Carolyn. "In any case, I still maintain your argument in the case of The Seventh Veil is somewhat moot."

Carolyn gave the mariner a look. "And just what does that mean?" she asked, her voice taking on an ever-so-slightly icy tone.

"Just that after six years sharing quarters — rather close quarters, may I say, with you and your family, that I feel I can safely say I know everything of importance there is to know about you!"

"Oh, really?" Carolyn asked slowly, and Martha noticed a slight quirk to Carolyn's mouth — as if there was something she was going to spring on the seaman at any moment.

"Why, yes, my dear," the sea Captain replied smugly, indicating that as far as he was concerned, the subject was closed.

Carolyn arched an eyebrow at him. Standing up, she reached for the eggs in the egg carton that Martha placed on the counter in preparation for making the angel-food cake. One at a time she started throwing them up in the air: to the astonishment of her children, housekeeper and the seaman . . . she was juggling!

"Mrs. Muir!" the Captain started, finally able to open his mouth.

"Shh!" Martha scolded the seaman, "Don't break her concentration! That's tonight's dessert!"

Soon, Carolyn had all twelve eggs from the carton in the air. Calmly, and still in perfect control, she glanced over at her family, now firmly rooted to their seats, watching the white orbs sweep around in their little circle in front of Carolyn.

"So, Daniel! This brings me back to my original idea!" Carolyn said, still juggling the eggs that had now been in the air for more than three minutes. "As far as The Seventh Veil, and it's idea goes, it really doesn't have anything to do with trust, or the lack of it, or keeping secrets, it's just a fact of life. For one reason or another, no one ever really truly knows another person completely! Which doesn't mean I have any intention of trying to stop knowing YOU better!"

Then, just as easily as she started the process, Carolyn altered her juggling rhythm and started to decrease the number of eggs, placing each one back where it had come from. Finally the last egg was back in the carton. All were completely intact.

As she finished, Carolyn smiled sweetly at her open-mouthed family, still frozen to their seats at the breakfast table, and dusted off her hands flamboyantly.

"Thanks for the coffee, Martha! I'm definitely awake now!" Deftly, Carolyn bowed to the astonished group before her. "And now crew . . ." and she gave the seaman a special wink, "If you will excuse me, I believe I have an article to write!"

End