The Cure for Dreaming(15)

Father let go of my arms.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Mademoiselle Mead,” said Henri, rising to his feet. “I can tell you are nervous about my presence here, but I promise, your session in this building will be as relaxing as your trance yesterday. Ne vous inquiétez pas. Do not worry.”

I exhaled a sound between a laugh and a gasp and tore my eyes from his, an action that hurt as much as pulling a thorn from my finger. “How can I possibly feel relaxed,” I said, “when I don’t know what’s about to happen to me?”

Henri walked toward me with footsteps that scarcely made a sound on the lobby’s dusty floorboards. “I swear to you, Miss Mead, you will not be harmed in any way. You will feel the same sense of well-being and euphoria you experienced when you reemerged from my trance on the stage. Do you remember that beautiful sensation?”

He stood in front of me and trapped me again with those unshakable eyes. The flaws in his skin and light stubble on his chin faded to insignificant blurs compared to those two orbs of brilliant blue. My breath grew shallow and fluttery. My veins seemed to flow with hazy waves of Father’s laughing gas instead of blood.

Henri took my hand, and a rush of warmth passed between us. I remembered that warmth all too well.

That sensation was my undoing.

He jerked me toward him by my arm and called out, “Sleep!”

My face crashed against the buttons of his coat.

“Melt down, melt down.” He cupped his hand over the back of my head, and my body slackened against his chest. “Let yourself go, downward, downward, downward.”

He dragged my rag-doll body across the floor and plopped me into one of the lobby chairs, still holding the back of my head. “Keep going down, Miss Mead. Keep easing deeper into sleep. Melt down. Let go, let go.”

A lock clicked into place. Curtains clattered closed.

“Teach her to accept the world the way it truly is,” begged Father in a voice that trembled and cracked. “Make her clearly understand the roles of men and women.”

“I’ll try my best, monsieur—”

“And tell her to say ‘All is well’ instead of arguing whenever she’s angry. Please. Her rebelliousness has got to be removed if she’s going to survive.”

I was too submerged in a warm and comfy eiderdown blanket of peace and darkness to care anymore what that silly man was blathering on about. Henri took hold of my left hand, and a numbing shot of heat flowed up my arms and fanned throughout my body to my farthest extremities. I gasped. My chin melted to my chest. The entire world slipped away, except for the soft lull of Henri Reverie’s voice.

“You are doing beautifully, Miss Mead. But now I need to take you into an even deeper level of hypnosis. I am going to stand behind you and use my hands to guide your head in a complete circle. Each revolution will send you further and further into the desired state of relaxation.”

His warm hands clasped my temples and revolved my head in a gentle, circular motion that slowed my breathing and dropped me down into a tingling world of blackness. My shoulders slumped forward.

“Yes, very good . . . you are melting even deeper now.” He rotated my head again, tilting back my chin until my neck was stretched and exposed. “You are doing so well. Keep going . . . all the way down. All the way down . . .”

Two delightful revolutions later, my chest collapsed against my legs.

“Excellent. Wonderful. I am so impressed.” He seemed to shift his position and kneel in front of me. His hand cradled the back of my skull. “You are now submerged in one of the deepest levels of hypnosis. Say yes if you understand me.”

“Yesss,” I mumbled with heavy lips into the wool of my skirt.

“Magnifique. Now, Miss Mead, I want you to listen to me, for the next part of my instruction is extremely important.” His lips bent close to my ear, and his voice traveled directly inside my head, as if he were taking up residence in the middle of my brain. “When you awaken, you will see the world the way it truly is. The roles of men and women will be clearer than they have ever been before. You will know whom to avoid. Say yes if you understand me.”

“Yesss.”

“Good.” He exhaled a feathery sigh against my cheek. “Now, some of the things you see with your new vision might make you angry. However, you will be incapable of uttering angry words. Whenever you are upset, all you will be able to say is ‘All is well.’ Say it right now.”

“All is well.”

“Good. All is well. You will see the world the way it truly is. The roles of men and women will be clearer than they have ever been before. Instead of getting angry, you will say ‘All is well.’ Say it once again.”

“All is well.”

“Wonderful. I am so glad you understand. I am going to bring you back up again. Let us just take our time and do this slowly. I will count to ten, and you will feel my hands rising up from your feet. One . . . two . . . You feel the force between us cooling, weakening . . .”

The blanket lifted off me, and I rose like a swelling loaf of bread.

“Three . . . four . . . five . . . let it go, you are doing splendidly, Miss Mead . . . let it go . . . six . . . seven . . . eight . . . you are almost back . . . nine . . .” He pressed his hand against my forehead. “Ten. Awake.”

I opened my eyes.