Ask a Shadow to Dance (14 page)

“Won’t work, Joe.
If I’m not there, she’s not there.”

“I don’t get it.” He pulled out into traffic, headed for downtown.

David wasn’t sure he got it either. “I just know, as odd as it sounds, when Lisette and I are in the same place, we’re both there. When we aren’t, we aren’t.”

“Run that by me again.”

“Did you see her today in the lobby?”

“Not one glimpse.”

“And I disappeared the minute I saw her—the minute she got to the fountain—in her time.”

“You still believe you went back to another time?”

“Exactly what year, I can’t say for sure. But Lisette lived in Memphis in the early eighteen hundreds. She and her father disappeared on the
Cajun Star
November twenty-first, eighteen eighty-five. That would mean when I saw her today it had to be before that. How much, I don’t know.” He twisted in the seat to face Joe. “Don’t you see? She’s going to get on that boat and sail down the Mississippi to who knows what. If I can just keep her from getting on that boat—”

“Then what?”

David didn’t have an answer.

“Then you’ll stay there with her? Or bring her back here with you? What if she doesn’t want to skip a hundred plus years into the future? What if it’s possible for you to come back, but not for you to bring her with you? Are you willing to live in eighteen eighty-five? How would you make a living?”

“I’m a doctor, Joe, remember?”

“A doctor used to prescribing medicines that didn’t exist then. What would you do when someone came in with something incurable—which is curable now?
Pneumonia? Small pox? Could you stand it, knowing you could save that person if you only had one of our pharmacies on the corner?”

David thought about it.
Really thought about it. Joe pulled into the parking area across the street, just down from the Peabody, and turned off the motor.

“I don’t know how I’d feel,” David admitted finally. “I know I have to find Lisette. Any other decisions will have to be made afterward. This whole deal sounds like something out of a science fiction novel, but I can’t justify what I’ve seen any other way. How do you explain the ducks?”

“You mean no ducks in the fountain when Lisette was there?”

“Exactly.
The ducks weren’t there until hunting decoys—live ducks—were put in the fountain in the nineteen thirties. Then there’s the question of my disappearing in front of your eyes. Explain that for me. And what about the shops? No gift shops, no Peabody ducks in the windows, no T-shirts.”

Joe scratched his head. “I can’t. If I hadn’t seen it—or not seen it—then I’d probably be checking you into the psych ward.”

“Exactly. Let’s go inside. If she isn’t still at the Peabody in whatever year that was, then I can’t go to her year and she can’t cross over to ours, but I have to try.”

Joe’s grin spread until his teeth gleamed and he beamed with an expression David knew all too well.
Adventure brewing. “Let’s do it!”

“Right.”
David went first to the main desk, clumsy on the damn crutches, and apologized to the manager. Stiff and formal at first, he softened more and more as David talked.

“I’m sorry about your injury, Dr. Stewart,” he said finally. “Are you planning another swim in the fountain?”

David had to grin at that. “Absolutely not. I just want to wait here a few minutes for a friend.”

The manager bowed his head slightly.
“Certainly. Enjoy your stay at the Peabody.”

“Thanks.” He spotted Joe by the fountain, watching the ducks, and joined him.

Joe grinned nervously. “Gives me the creeps when I think about your bleeping out of the picture. You see that sort of thing on television all the time, but when it happened here I flipped out. My eyes were probably as big as saucers—flying saucers. If one of those babies had landed in the fountain instead of you, I don’t think my reaction would have been much different.”

They stayed half an hour, sipping a drink, Joe wandering to the entrances and back a dozen times, examining every person who came through the lobby. David knew it was a long shot to expect Lisette to reappear. Westmoreland would never let her come back if he could help it. He might even lock her up. David clenched his fists until his knuckles were white. How could he make good on his promise not to let her be hurt again if he couldn’t get into the same century with her? He’d have to find another way. Waiting here until she happened to come in the door could take weeks, or it might never happen again. The
Cajun Star
was set to leave Memphis on the twenty-first of November. He had to find her before then and keep her off that boat.

They’d waited an hour.

“She isn’t coming, Joe. I’ll have to find another way to reach her.”

“How did it happen before, on the boat?”

“I don’t know. The second time, though, was in a dream.”

“Well, take a nap when you get home. Maybe you’ll get lucky.”

The absurd notion that David could just take a nap, dream about Lisette and tell her to meet him somewhere seemed foolishly simplistic and absurd. Another equally absurd thought followed. But the whole scenario was absurd. Why not? He picked up the crutches, tested his balance. “Let’s go.”

“Are you sure, Bro? We can wait a while longer if you want. I’m in no hurry.”

“I’m going to take your advice—and see a shrink.”

Joe’s forehead creased. “I was kidding, David. I didn’t mean—”

“I know. I’ll explain in the car.”

They pulled into the parking lot of Dr. Robert Townsend’s office complex about ten minutes later. Bob and David had been friends since college. Of all the people he might talk to about the experiences he’d just had, Bob was second on the list, after Joe.

Joe had been skeptical all through the explanation of what David wanted to try next. Of course, it depended on Bob and whether or not he would believe their story.

“Are you sure you want to do this, David?”

“Hell no, I’m not sure. Can you think of anything better?”

Joe got out of the car. “No, but the last thing I’d want to do is tell a shrink I’ve been popping back and forth between this year and 1880. He’s bound to say, ‘How well did you get along with your mother?’”

“Very funny. If that happens, you’ll get me out of there before he can have me committed, right?”

“Right.”
Both of them laughed at that.

David almost reconsidered before going into the office, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that hypnosis might be the only way to reach Lisette. No way to know until they tried. Joe would be there to corroborate the story. If Bob Townsend couldn’t believe David alone, he’d have to believe both of them.

“Dr. Townsend is with a patient. He’ll be free in about twenty minutes. Would you care to wait?”

“Thank you.” They sat down. Joe reached for a dog-eared copy of
Sports Illustrated
, the swimsuit issue. David let his mind wander, trying to stay calm. He’d been hypnotized only once, in med school. The hypnotist, the doctor lecturing on psychiatry, had pronounced him a good subject because of his open-mindedness. David guess that hadn’t changed. He was here now because he’d opened his mind to possibilities he’d never considered.

His knowledge of time travel theories was limited. About the only thing he knew for sure was Einstein’s
theory that all times exist at the same time. The mind was a powerful organ, but could Joe have disappeared just because he
believed
he’d traveled back in time? Could the whole experience have been an illusion, a hallucination, nothing more than wishful thinking?

Joe bumped David’s elbow and pointed to a picture of Rubicon, the hottest
model on the runway these days, in the magazine, then rattled on about the Yankees’ chances of making it to the World Series this year. David shrugged, didn’t comment. Baseball was the last thing on his mind. Even the picture of a sexy model in a gold bikini didn’t interest him. Although the thought of Lisette in a swimsuit for the first time brought a smile and a few thoughts he didn’t share with Joe.

The receptionist came into the waiting room. “Dr. Townsend will see you now, Dr. Stewart.”

They followed her to an office in the rear of the building. Bob Townsend sat at a huge leather bound desk, scribbling in a file. The room was lined with books and an occasional fern or potted plant. The traditional couch sat next to the far windows. David almost backed out, but they’d come this far. The picture in his mind of Lisette in a gold bikini convinced him he had to do whatever he could. Even something this crazy.

“Thanks for making time for us, Bob.”

“Come in, David. Good to see you. Looks like you’ve had a bit of an accident.” Bob offered his hand to Joe. “Bob Townsend.”

“Joe Stewart. Glad to meet you.”

“Joe’s my brother, Bob. How much time can we have?”

“Let me see.” He pressed the intercom button. “Melanie, is Mr. Cooper here yet?”

“He just called to say he’ll be delayed. Shall I call him back and reschedule?”

Bob raised his eyebrows to question David. He nodded. “Yes, reschedule.
No calls, please.”

“
Thanks, Bob. I appreciate your time.”

“No problem. My next patient isn’t due for an hour. How can I help? I’m afraid I’m not the best doctor for an ankle injury.”

“All part of the story.”

Bob leaned back in his chair. His pleasant expression soon changed to deep interest and wonder as David related the details of meeting Lisette at the dance and at the Peabody. Almost immediately he began taking notes on a legal pad, encouraging David to continue, remaining solemn. Not a glimmer of a dubious smile.

“Joe saw the whole thing. I figured you’d be interested in an eye witness.”

“You saw him disappear—then reappear.”

Joe nodded. “I was looking straight at him. Then he wasn’t there. Scared the hell out of me. The next thing I knew, he was splashing around in the fountain, his ankle swelling, ducks flying everywhere.”

Bob smiled,
then pondered a moment. “All right, David. I have to tell you a fantastic story like yours wouldn’t hold an ounce of credibility if you weren’t the one telling it.”

“I appreciate that, Bob.”

“You obviously need my help to contact this woman again, am I right?”

Bob was as sharp a doctor as David had ever known.
And open-minded. At the university, they’d considered him wild and crazy. When he’d decided to become a psychiatrist, David had told Bob he’d be his own first patient.

“Hypnosis?”

“Would we have a chance?”

“No way to say until we try.”

“Then you’ll do it?”

“Why not?
I could suggest that you’re able to observe people in the eighteen hundreds and see what happens. You might tell me I’m crazy, that people can’t hop from one century to the next, but out-of-body experiences are one thing science can’t explain. Some of it is pure hoax, of course. But I was with a guy once in med school who said he could travel anywhere I told him to go. I sent him to my parents’ home, about eighty miles away. He described the furniture, my father sitting in his recliner, my mother talking on the telephone, and even the paintings on the wall and the inscription on one of them. I knew he’d never been to my parents’ home. I had no choice but to believe he’d actually left his body and gone there.”

“Then you believe it’s possible? That guy wasn’t going back in time, was he?”

“Not at all. After the session I called my house to see if Mom and Dad were home.”

“Were they?”

“The phone was busy.”

No one said anything for a moment or two. David released a long sigh. “So, you’ll tell me to leave my body and go searching back through time until I find Lisette. Will I be able to speak to her?”

“David, I can’t say, and I wouldn’t even speculate. Your accounts of seeing her in dreams—and her seeing and speaking to you—are the most incredible parts of the story as far as I’m concerned. If I could guide your dreams—“

“Exactly.
Is that possible?”

Bob stood, walked around his desk to the far wall and pulled a volume from the bookshelf. “Dream therapy is well known. As far as guiding the dreamer to address specific issues in the dream, there’s a simple method that generally works.”

David’s excitement grew. He knew exactly what Bob was getting at. “Post hypnotic suggestion.”

“Precisely.
I hypnotize you, tell you that you’re going to dream about this woman and go to wherever she might be. I can also tell you that you’ll return to the hypnotic state during the dream and be able to speak aloud, giving details about the dream as it happens. If you’re sleeping close enough to a tape recorder—”

“Or here in this office.”

“Better still. We’ll have documentation you can listen to when you wake up. If you speak coherently, of course. Talking during sleep is rarely coherent speech.”

“When can we do it?”