"Well, our first attempt at bibliotherapy was a disaster."
"I gathered as much from the urgency of your call. So, what exactly happened?" As usual, the good Dr. Campbell managed to sound calm and intrigued at the same time.
Hawk sat back and gestured for Jon to offer his account.
"I think we need to start further back," Jon admitted. "We made a late start with it all because she had her first panic attack not long after we brought her into the library."
"A panic attack? From the sight of the books?"
"No – that was my fault-"
"Enough, Scout!" Jon's interruption came out harsher than he intended – and the sergeant closed his mouth and sat back – looking guiltier than ever.
"Sorry," Jon followed up. "But you've kicked yourself more than enough for that one. Hawk and I agreed to it, and I think everyone else here agrees that we couldn't have known that would trigger her like it did."
"And I think it's likely that I'll reach the same conclusion once you tell me exactly what you're talking about." The doctor's voice was still calm, but there was an unmistakable undertone of "get to the point, please."
They filled her in on the evidence they'd shared with Jennifer that corroborated her story, the subsequent panic attack, and her recovery in MedBay.
"Well, Sergeant, I'm in complete agreement with your superiors here. You didn't force this evidence on her – she asked for it. You did nothing wrong there, as far as I'm concerned."
"Think you can let go of that burden now?" Hawk asked, and Scout nodded.
"Good." The major exhaled.
"So, what happened next?"
"Hawk and I brought her back to the library, laid out the poems we'd all picked out for her and a few books. She seemed… fine… eager to get started, even…"
"What poems did you select for her?"
"Walt Whitman's 'I Sing the Body Electric.' I don't think any of us expected her to have a good understanding of it on her first read – we just thought she needed to see where Dread stole the concept from – and just how badly he twisted it."
"I concur, on both counts. What else?"
"Mary Oliver – 'Wild Geese', Yeats – 'The Stolen Child', Amanda Gorman – 'The Hill We Climb.' Robert Frost's 'The Road Less Traveled'…" Jon let his voice trail off, already second-guessing the selections.
"And she reacted badly to one of them?" The good doctor sounded puzzled.
"We don't know what exactly set her off," Hawk spoke up. "We haven't been able to get anything coherent out of her since we came back to the library and found her wreaking havoc."
"What exactly did this havoc look like, Major?"
Hawk sighed and gestured to Jon. "You were first on the scene, Jon."
Jon closed his eyes and thought back to what he'd seen after the first book had narrowly missed his head.
"She wasn't… destroying the books. Not ripping pages out or anything like that. Just… throwing them. Looked like she'd taken our little stack and at least three whole shelves of books and just – threw them all against the wall – one by one. Until I got there, and then she started throwing them at me."
"Thank God her aim's still about as shaky as her overall strength," Hawk said.
"I don't know that she was really trying to hurt me," Jon countered. "It was like she just had all this anger… rage… built up inside her and just… didn't have an outlet for it…"
"And she didn't say anything? No screaming, no threats, no cursing?"
"Not a word." Which felt odder and odder to Jon, the more he thought about it. "But I did see she was crying – long before I laid a hand on her – even before she backed into the shelves behind her and fell to the floor… I called it rage just now, but there was something else there…"
"Don't forget, she was pounding on you with her fists when you tried to comfort her," Hawk pointed out.
Jon couldn't help but scoff at that. "With no more real strength behind those blows than a toddler. And even that didn't last long before she just… dissolved in tears." Something in him nearly teared up at the memory of it… of the empathy he couldn't help feeling for her suffering… all of her suffering…
No. He willed the tears back. Dr. Campbell needed as an objective account as he – they- could give her. "After that, I carried her back to MedBay, and she cried herself to sleep again. We left Tank keeping watch over her. He's supposed to comm us as soon as she wakes up."
"All right. Approximately how long was she left on her own in the library?"
"We'd agreed on an hour – but I was running a little late – no more than ten minutes. We had some critical updates from CentComm that took longer than expected."
"Still, time for her to easily get through any number of picture books, or even well into a chapter book or two…"
Now for the part of the conversation Jon had dreaded most. "Yeah… about that… when we started to pull everything together… and went to the shelves where we used to keep all the children's books…"
Hawk leaned in to put him out of his misery. "We'd all forgotten that we'd taken every last one of them to the children's library in the Passages last Christmas."
Jon sighed, nodded, and let his eyes drift to his sergeant. The young man's pensive expression was enough to confirm that all three of them were thinking of the real reason they'd taken those books out there – even as they'd told the grateful librarian - and themselves - that it was all just because those children were starved for stories and needed those books much more than four grown men ever could or would again. The reason they'd put all those books out of mind ever since.
A wound he hoped Dr. Campbell wasn't about to pry open and pour sharp disinfectant in.
"You all… just forgot?" A calm, if slightly incredulous question.
"We've been rather preoccupied with this little war we're engaged in," Jon snapped back.
"Fair enough," the doctor conceded – but something in her tone hinted that she knew there was more to it than that. "So, why didn't you message me so I could have digital copies of the first few books sent over to you? I thought I made it clear why I thought you should begin with children's books."
Hawk cleared his throat. "I hoped starting off by telling her a fairy tale or two would work just as well. And I thought we all were in agreement that a crucial part of bibliotherapy was having her handle real, physical books – to have the entire sensory experience in her hands for the first time outside of one of Dread's bonfires."
"We were, but if you had messaged me earlier, I would have advised you that content was more important than format for her introduction to books. So, what did you end up putting on the top of her introductory stack?"
"Fahrenheit 451."
There was a long, heavy pause after Jon's answer. For a moment, he thought the connection had frozen up. Just as he was about to order Scout to troubleshoot the link, the reply came.
"What were you – no – were you thinking at all when you assigned her that book first?"
Jon couldn't remember Dr. Campbell ever – scolding– him – any of them - like that – and something in him snapped.
"Excuse me?!" he fired back – unable to keep the raw anger out of his voice.
Another lengthy pause – but this time he was sure it wasn't because of a frozen link.
A long, careful inhale and exhale. "I'm sorry, Captain."
He couldn't remember the last time the good doctor had needed to apologize for anything she'd said to him – or that she'd let any raw emotion burst out of her. Part of him appreciated this rare slip – evidence that underneath her professional demeanor, she was as human as the rest of them.
And yet, he couldn't help thinking that no, they – he – might actually have deserved that harsh question. But his own apology remained stuck in his throat.
Another inhale. Exhale. "It's been a long day here already, and for once, I'll admit that my own nerves are rather frayed. My criticism may be justified, but it didn't need to be that harsh."
Maybe… but her candor deserved to be met halfway. "We're all dealing with frayed nerves at the moment. But Jennifer's hurting the most of any of us – and we need to know how to fix what we did wrong here. I don't understand – that book was on your recommended list for bibliotherapy."
"At the bottom of that list, Captain – not the top. The idea was to have her work her way up to facing the other side of the coin from the one she'd been exposed too – not to confront her with the entire truth of it right off the bat."
"It just seemed like the logical choice to us," Scout finally spoke again, immediately wincing at his choice of words. "Where you'd want to start with anyone whose only exposure to books had been burning them."
"So, tell us how we missed something here that's blindingly obvious to you," Hawk leaned in. "Because I'm afraid this is going to be just the first of many times you're going to have to spell it all out for us."
"Unfortunately, I'm afraid you're right about that, Major." Dr. Campbell sighed.
"It didn't occur to any of you how traumatizing the burning of books, the self-immolation of one book lover, and a reference to the violent death of a girl her age might be?"
Well, when you put it like that… Jon felt his face grow hot – thinking back to two of those major plot points – both in the first third of the book – now that he thought about it. And they still didn't have a gauge of Jennifer's reading speed or any idea of how far she'd actually gotten into the book. If she'd encountered the Mechanical Hound on top of all that…
"It's been a while since any of us read the book," he conceded – and Hawk and Scout murmured agreement. "We were so focused on what it would teach her about the importance of books and reading… other than the burning of the books, we really didn't think about the elements you just named."
"It's not the first mistake you've made in caring for her. It won't be the last, either."
True enough, Jon knew – but it still wasn't easy to hear. "I think we all knew some missteps on everyone's part would be inevitable. What worries me – all of us – is not knowing how many more mistakes we can afford to make with her."
"You're afraid of failing her."
"Can you blame us?" Jon asked. "We thought we were getting through to her – emotionally – after the panic attack – but whatever we did wrong with our first reading selections just knocked her all the way back to square one and beyond. Now she can't even verbalize anything she's feeling at all. This feel-" No, dammit – he had to try for some objectivity here - "- seems like it's even worse than one step forward and two steps back."
"It isn't." Dr. Campbell's calm response was almost instantaneous. "If anything, I'd say you've got that backwards."
He couldn't believe his ears. "If you could see her for yourself now-"
"With all due respect, I've seen many more emotionally traumatized teenage girls than you have, Captain – many of them in far worse condition than Jennifer. I've seen dozens who could best be described as feral. Dozens more whose traumas rendered them catatonic. Honestly, despite your mistakes, it's astonishing how far you've come with her in such a short amount of time."
"How can you say that – when she can't even talk to us anymore?"
An impatient sigh. "Because of one of those blindingly obvious things that I'll be glad to tell you if you'll just listen for a moment!"
Well, he'd asked for that. He sat back, swallowed his pride, and asked for her to enlighten them.
"You spoke of her having no more strength than a toddler when she was hitting you. Did anything else about her behavior in that moment remind you of a child that age?"
He turned to Hawk. "You can answer that better than I can."
"Well," Hawk cleared his throat. "With my own daughter… and with—" he hesitated and gave his head a little shake. "I mean, Katie wasn't a difficult child, but I can recall a few tantrums like that with her… throwing things and then just crying and crying afterward."
"Me, too." Scout had been quiet for so long that Jon had almost forgotten he was in the room. "I mean, with my baby sister… it was the same with her, too."
Jon had almost forgotten that Scout had had a little sister, too. He'd only mentioned her a handful of times… months ago.
"Major, do you remember anything you were taught as a father to understand about toddler tantrums?"
"They usually start out of frustration… considered a normal part of development as the child learns…" Hawk stopped – comprehension dawning on his face. "… to express their feelings and cope with their emotions."
"Exactly. Whatever your reading selections provoked in her was likely a frustrating new emotion that she didn't know how to deal with. Add that to a body that's still recovering from a near-death experience and both the physical and emotional fallout from her first panic attack, and…"
"It's like an overstimulated and overtired toddler," Hawk finished.
"That's not a perfect analogy… but yes. What you're seeing right now as a tremendous setback and utter failure could actually be a breakthrough in her emotional development."
"But we won't know that until she wakes up and tells us what she was thinking and feeling – or if she'll be able to verbalize it then." Jon couldn't help thinking – feeling – that what Dr. Campbell was telling them sounded a little too good to be true.
"And we still don't know how to handle her going forward. It's not like Tank or Jon can just sling her over one shoulder and put her down for a nap every time her emotions get out of hand."
"Of course not. And unlike a toddler, she has the intellectual capacity to learn how to control and channel even her most complex emotions. You let her cry her way through this first meltdown – and while that wasn't necessarily the wrong decision – I must ask if you thought to try grounding her instead."
"I taught her about grounding, right after the panic attack. But I - she just seemed too far gone by the time I got to her in the library."
"Make sure that's the first thing you try whenever she has another attack or meltdown. Making use of her senses should always be the first tool she learns to reach for when her emotions start to overwhelm her."
"And if we can't get her to ground?" Scout's face was all concern.
"Well, that's when the work gets really difficult for everyone involved. But we all knew this journey was never going to be an easy one for any of us." Dr. Campbell paused for a moment. "I know it's been quite some time, but do you all remember when I introduced you to the concepts of Reason Mind, Emotion Mind, and Wise Mind?"
They did.
"Jennifer's been locked into Reason Mind her entire life. Then her world shattered, and the trauma from that propelled her all the way to the opposite extreme – to the deep end of Emotion Mind."
Jon saw where this was going. "And she still doesn't know how to swim."
Hawk nodded. "And that raises the question – how do you rescue a drowning girl without being taken down in the process?"
The question hung heavy in the air for a moment before Scout broke the silence.
"This may sound ridiculous – but isn't there a way we could fit her with some sort of lifejacket or water-wings – something to help her… float?"
"Actually, that's not a bad analogy, Sergeant. Because the key here is how to keep her from sinking further. And what you – and she – will have to do is going to feel as counter-intuitive to her as it does to tell a drowning girl to stop struggling and let herself float."
"What's that?" Jon asked.
"She needs to tap back into some elements of Reason Mind to pull her psyche into balance… and eventually bring her to that goal of reaching Wise Mind – the integration of the best of both worlds."
"How do we get her to do that?" Jon wasn't entirely sure where she was going with this.
"As far as getting her to stop struggling and float – beyond grounding – you'll need to remind her – every time – that these feelings are temporary and will pass. That no storm of emotion lasts forever."
That made sense. "And beyond that?"
"She needs to learn how to think about her emotions, Captain – not just feel them. Focus on building her emotional vocabulary. Make her describe what she's feeling using her senses. She'll probably be resistant to that – because she's using undeveloped mental muscles. Exercising those atrophied muscles will be extremely difficult and painful at first for her. But when she starts to realize that thinking about her emotions – where they come from, what thoughts and actions trigger them – can help her control and re-direct those emotions- then she'll begin to understand how thinking and feeling, logic and emotion, how these opposites are supposed to work together in a healthy mind. How reason and emotion are equally essential parts of the human condition."
"Sounds a lot easier said than done," Hawk frowned.
"It's a tightrope I walk every single day, gentlemen. I can't help caring about my patients and wanting to relieve their suffering. I need that sense of empathy to convince them that they're not alone and not beyond help. But I also need to maintain a sense of objectivity when it comes to analyzing the thoughts and situations that led to their traumas. Comforting my patients only does so much good. That's why I also need to offer them mental tools and explain their use. But I can't do the heavy lifting for them. Neither can you."
An old song lyric stirred from the depths of Jon's mind – about having to walk the lonesome valley alone…
"Speaking of heavy lifting – I need to ask a favor for our next communication, Captain?"
"What's that?"
"I understand why you've been leaving him to watch over Jennifer, but I have yet to hear any of your lieutenant's observations of her. Surely he's seen her do more than sleep over the course of these last few days – and given that his background has some similar parallels to hers…"
"Apparently he got her to bond with him a little over card games – at least until she got sore over losing and tried to flip the table." Jon allowed himself to chuckle at that. "Beyond that… I take your point. We'll make sure you hear directly from him on our next call."
"Thank you. I'm sorry, but I really need to see about getting back. I still have a good deal more to arrange on this end before you bring Jennifer here."
"Still thinking that's going to be another couple of days?"
"Unfortunately, yes – if not more."
Part of his heart sank at that news. Another part… wasn't ready to let Jennifer go yet.
"Any parting words of wisdom?" Jon would take anything he could get at this point.
A moment's hesitation, and then-
"Before it fell apart, her life demanded nothing less than perfection. She needs to know that it's okay to fail sometimes. You all need to remember that as well."