The next morning, Todd was surprised, at breakfast, to find the Sunday edition staring at him with his own image. He picked it up, and read, "Local Publisher Saves Life - Pays Hospital Bills for Nun's Brother."
"Blair?" He bellowed, "Blair?"
Sam came running, "Hey, Dad."
"I want Blair! Blair?"
"What?" she said, irritated, running down the steps, "You'll wake Little Ray!"
"What is this?" He said, showing her the cover.
"Oh, that?"
"Yeah, that."
"Its The Sun. You know, the paper you own?"
"Blair . . ."
"You deserve it. I don't want to hear any complaints. Besides, we had nothing else to run."
"I hate when you bring attention to me, Blair. I just don't like it."
"Sorry. But you did such a wonderful thing. It's newsworthy."
"Crapworthy."
"Stop, Todd. Give yourself a break. It's Sunday, where are you going?"
"To see Ray. He works weekends. Well, at least for me."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, Blair. I just . . . I need to see him. It's been a long time coming." Those damn flashes. Wait, what was it, a cat?
"Do you want me to go with you?"
He didn't answer.
"Todd, do you want me to go with you?"
"Nah, I'm okay. Enjoy this gorgeous day with the kids. I'll see you later." He kissed her.
She watched him go. "He's so determined to do so much of this alone," she said to herself.
Starr came into the kitchen. She said, "Mom? Are you busy?"
"No, Starr. What's going on?"
"I want to talk to you about Dad. Is he going to be all right? I mean, he's been through so much, and now this new stuff. He's going to see Ray, on a Sunday. I'm worried."
"I know, Baby, but I think he's trying to deal with it the best he can."
"Mom? What was it like, being with him during all this? Jack said he was violent. Was he? Did he hurt you?"
"No, he's never violent toward me, but he hurt himself. He's had a very hard time of it with the new memories. That Greek girl, Orinia, her childhood triggered the memories of his. He'd wake up sometimes, hurting himself."
Starr's horror made her grab for the chair. "Mom. Did you stop him? How?"
"I clapped three times, sometimes I just brought the baby to him. He had a huge blister that covered his palm. He put his hand over the candle in his sleep. Does this explain why he's going for more help? He's scared to lose his mind and lose us."
"He won't lose us."
"I know. But if he loses his sanity, he believes he will lose us also. That's why he fights so hard for it."
"Mom, I was thinking about something. Maybe there are more things he does not remember?"
"He asked himself the same thing. I think it's best he does not remember, at least for now."
Starr put her head down on the table and cried into her arms. Blair, surprised, went to her and petted her hair. She said, "I know, Starr. But he needs our strength, not our pity. He needs us to be there for him and tell him he's loved and be patient with him."
Starr pulled herself together, "I can't imagine all the things he has been through. I can't imagine living through them. I don't know how he does it, Mom. When I think of a little boy, like Sam, seeing something like that. . ."
"I know. It's devastating, even now." Blair was trying to keep herself from falling into tears right beside her daughter.
"Mom, you keep him alive, you know that? He said it, at the Vickerman Premier, but you keep him alive. He's so in love with you. He has been since I was a little girl."
"Before that," she corrected. "And I'm in love with him, too. Always have been."
"Thank God," she said. "He needs you. He needs us all."
***
"Ray Martino," Todd said, stopping in the doorway.
"Todd Manning. Good to see you," he got up from his chair and extended his hand. "What brings you here, Todd? You made it clear it was pretty urgent."
"I've remembered new things. I'm . . . falling apart. At least it feels like it sometimes, and I just don't want anyone to know what I'm dealing with. Except maybe you. You can take it."
"Of course."
"Some nights, I'm all right, others I'm devastated by nightmares. Twice, I vomited when waking from them. I sleepwalk and do things in my sleep. Sometimes I act out what I am dreaming. And I get flashes, little snap shots. I'm scared that I'll lose my mind, Ray, and lose my family."
"This sounds somewhat disconcerting. When did this start happening?"
"After Carlo's death, Timothy's betrayal, and when the kids left for the cruise, I was getting more nightmares. I never told anyone. Right around the time I started suspecting that Blair was his killer. She was dealing with the death of Sommer, they showed up more. She was in the hospital for a lot of it, I was alone . . ."
"Sommer?"
"The baby we lost."
"My God, Todd, I didn't know. You've been out of touch a while," he paused, "but just from this talk, it seems you're under a great deal of strain that can cause the symptoms of PTSD to return and worsen."
"And then, when we met this girl who was hanging out with Jack. She had an abusive childhood. I remembered something . . . that I hadn't before. And . . . What do I do?"
"Therapy. Talk. Work at it."
"I'm so tired, Ray," he said, crossing the room. "I'm tired of being someone who needs to 'work at it.' I'm tired of the pain, the dreams, this rage, or whatever is in me."
"Then why don't you let go?"
"I don't know."
"Sometimes we are so used to our pain, it's like a close friend. Like we wouldn't be who we are without it."
"Sometimes. But I think I could definitely do without it."
"Then, there must be things that are unresolved."
"You could say that."
"Start with something really deep. Why don't we get right into it, head on. What's really hard? What's the worst?"
"My mother. I saw her raped when I was little. By Peter."
Ray stopped a minute, and gathered his thoughts. "That's a difficult thing. All right. You saw it. What did you see? Did you see the whole act?"
"Yeah, pretty much. I was frozen with fear. She told me to run. I couldn't move." He made his way to his regular chair.
"Was she beaten?"
"Not really. A little. Once he got her under control, he didn't have to beat her anymore. The same with me."
"What's the worst part?"
"I wake up throwing up sometimes when I dream about it. Makes me sick."
"What makes you sick?"
He started to shake, and visualize it again. He said, "The things he said to her. What he was physically doing scared me. When I was a little boy, I didn't understand it. I just got scared, I cried. She cried, she screamed. I didn't help."
"Todd, you were six."
"I know. I said that wrong. I couldn't help. I was too little. I think there's something to this, Ray. Something more, if I can face whatever it is. It tangled me up inside. It made me different than anyone else my age. I felt it."
"What about later?"
"I can't talk about that now." He got up and walked hurriedly, pacing. He said, "This ruined me. I'm all screwed up inside."
"Of course it did. You were a child. That was traumatizing. You saw your father hurting your mother. Your mother was in pain, hurt, screaming. What was your father doing?"
He stopped, heaving into the trashcan. Ray got up, offered him some paper towel and a glass of water. He sat down, defeated, and wiped his brow, and shirt. Then, he drank some of the water. "He was . . . he was getting off on it. He liked it. "
"Do you want me to push you, Todd? I've dealt with this before, and I know where it's going. Do you want me to push you, or do you feel unprepared?"
"Does it matter? I'll either go home with realizations, or go home and dream, or both."
"Then you want me to push you?"
"Go ahead. I can push back if I have to."
"Back to your father. You said he was getting off, he liked it."
"Yeah," his feet were moving, as if he could not get comfortable. He said, "He . . . liked her pain. And mine." He stopped. He realized he was breathing too fast, and tried to slow it. He put his head between his knees, and rubbed his face with both hands. Ray was patient and waited. Todd said, "I don't . . . I don't see how all this fits."
"Are you wondering why something like this would be a problem for you? You were a child. Your caregivers were doing something you could not understand. Your mother was suffering, your father was getting off. It left you confused. You froze because it was so out of the realm of what a child should be seeing. Forgive that child, he could not do anything to stop it, Todd."
"I'm trying." He said, "Hang on, all right. Before you go further, I feel sick again."
"Just let me know," Ray asked.
The room fell silent for a while. Todd said, "He was a sadist. He loved hurting us."
"That sounds about right. The lighter, the burning you, the abuse of you and her. Did he burn your mother?"
"No. Well, I don't know. I only remember the one time. I think."
Ray knew what he meant. Since this recent bout with remembrances had just popped out of nowhere, what if there were more memories that he just had not uncovered? The doctor said, "Once was enough. I know this is hard, but what happened later?"
"What do you mean later?"
"When you got older. When you thought of it."
"I . . . I didn't think of it."
"You're sure?"
"I . . . No, I'm not sure. I didn't remember it, I thought, until when I was in Greece."
"When you did remember it, how did you feel?"
"Sick. I cried, I was physically ill. Like this. When I dreamed of it, I threw up. I told you."
Ray made some notes on his pad. "Todd, what do you think watching that taught you?"
"I don't know. I don't know if it taught me anything if I didn't remember it."
Ray didn't answer. Todd said, "You think I remembered it? Why would I lie to you?"
Ray remained silent and finished his notes. "I don't think you're lying. At all. If you can't remember knowing it happened, how can you be sure that you're not aware that you did remember it other times? Like, for example, when you were a teenager, and first started to hit puberty. Or when you were abused that way by Peter yourself, when you were fourteen? Or even later, when that rage took over and you raped Marty Saybrooke? Or long ago when you thought about hurting Blair?"
Todd froze. He closed his eyes and as various memories tried to get through to the forefront, he pushed them back, out of fear. He opened his eyes and said, "I'm scared. I know I have to know everything, but I'm scared." He looked to the floor, despairing. Then he looked up, and his hazel eyes appeared almost green. "Help me, Ray."
"That's the game plan, Buddy," he said getting out of his chair, and walking to Todd. He put his hand on Todd's shoulder and said, "That's the plan."
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awesome job
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