Reachers

Solomon Blackwell sat in his office and stared at a blank, white wall. When his mind was somewhat at ease, he stood and walked from his desk. He walked past the baubles and books and oscillating fan, and stopped at the coffee table in front of the couch. He leaned over and snapped his fingers, igniting a tiny flame that danced on the end of his thumb before jumping to his favorite sandalwood incense candle. The wick burst to life with a quiet crackling noise and an earthy aroma filled the room. Saul took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He then set the incense on a shelf, tightened his tie, adjusted his glasses, and sat on his old leather chair. Before he could meditate further, he heard a knock at the door. She was early. "Come in, it's open," Saul said. The door creaked open and a pale face timidly peeked into the room. "S-sorry Dr. Blackwell, I didn't know whether to knock or..." She trailed off. "No need to apologize, Joanne," Saul said. "It's great to finally put a face to the name. Please, have a seat." Joanne Carlisle shuffled her way to the couch across from Saul, pressing her purse to her chest as if it were a cat trying to wiggle free. She held the purse even after she sat down, and tapped her toes to a silent drum beat. "So, how are you feeling today?" Saul asked. "Um, a little better I guess," Jo said. Her eyes darted around the room, never settling on anything for more than a second. "I don't feel as nauseous today. Just still have that dull ache behind my eyes." Saul nodded. "Would you say the pain is worse, better or the same since our last phone session?" Jo stopped fidgeting for a moment and looked at Saul. Her brown eyes were bloodshot and her eyeliner was heavy and smudged. "Worse. I haven't slept for a while," she said. "I can't." Saul leaned forward and folded his hands together in his lap. "The worms?" he asked. Jo stared down at her feet. They were tapping faster than ever. "Yes," she said. She twisted her brown hair around her finger so tightly that Saul thought she might tear it out. "I can hear them talking now. They don't like that I'm here with you." "No, I can't imagine they do," Saul said. "I want them to leave," Jo said, her voice almost a whisper. "I can feel them under my skin. They're always there, crawling around. I can't get them out no matter how deep I cut." Saul's jaw tightened. "You told me you hadn't done that." He should have known. Of course she wouldn't have admitted something like that to a stranger, especially not over the phone. "I lied, I'm sorry," Jo said. "I just wanted them to go away." She rolled up her sleeves and presented her arms. They were covered in bloody gauze bandages. Some of the cuts were bare but scabbed over and oozing, infection taking hold. "I'm sorry Joanne. I'm going to get you fixed up." Saul stood and walked toward Joanne. He reached into his pocket and produced a silver pocket watch hanging from a long silver chain. The outside of the watch was marked with a gorgeous and intricate engraving of a raven so realistic that Jo thought it might leap into the air and take flight. Jo eyed the pocket watch suspiciously. "What if it doesn't work on me?" she asked. "My friend posted on f*******: that she went to a hypnotherapist and she said she wasn't susceptible." Saul grinned. "I haven't had any complaints so far." He sat on the coffee table in front of her and picked a lavender candle from his myriad collection, lighting it with a match from the box beside them. "Breathe in," he said. "It'll help you relax." Jo leaned toward the candle and took a deep breath. A flowery scent tickled her nose and a warm, soothing haze flowed through her. An intense relief poured over her body, her muscles turning to jelly. For the first time in a long time she almost let herself smile. "How do you feel?" Saul asked. She sank back into the couch, setting her purse on the cushion beside her. "I feel nice," she said, her voice airy and calm. "I don't feel the worms. Are they gone already?" "Not yet," Saul said. "But they'll be quiet for awhile." "Thank God," Jo said. She tilted her head back and opened her arms, praising the heavens. Saul ran his fingers over the watch, following the clean curves and sharp edges of the raven's figure. "Are you ready?" he asked. Jo nodded. "Get these things out of me doc." Saul dangled the chain in front of Jo. "I need you to focus on the raven, okay Joanne?" Jo sat up and stared at the watch, her eyes following it left and right as Saul gently swung the chain between his fingers. After a few moments the quiet ticking of the watch melded with the warm calm that coursed through her, singing a peaceful lullaby. It caressed her weary mind, comforting her in a way that she had never felt. Suddenly the raven's head began to twitch. Then the raven blinked and rustled its feathers. Soon it was beating its wings, thrumming along with the slow and steady beat of Jo's heart. She gasped, suddenly frightened. Was there something strange in that candle? Did he drug her? She shouldn't have come here alone. She should have told someone where she was going. She shouldn't ha- She was out cold. Saul palmed the watch in his left hand and felt the soft thump-thump of the raven's wings. With his right hand, he popped open the watch and slowly opened the lid. A gale of wind burst from the watch and carried with it a cloud of shiny raven's feathers, dark as ink. They hung in front of Saul, suspended by invisible strings. Saul set the watch down and rose to his feet. As he wandered around the room he gently touched each feather. One showed him Jo's first day at school when she tripped in front of the whole class; another, her first kiss. Saul dismissed these memories with a flick of his wrist and sent them back into the watch. As soon as one feather disappeared, another took its place. Saul searched and searched, looking for the delusion that he was sure Jo had. Once he found it he would erase it from her mind and prevent it from ever coming back. Several minutes passed but nothing related to the worms appeared. Saul didn't understand. Usually unpleasant memories, thoughts or mental health issues floated to the top of the pile but at this point he was scraping the bottom of the barrel. Something was wrong. Saul waved his hand and sent all of the feathers tumbling back into the watch. He closed it and the raven's wings kept a steady beat, keeping Jo under the spell while Saul contemplated his next move. Had he made a mistake? He didn't think so. This time hadn't felt any different from the others. If there was no organic thought, no real issue, then it must be coming from an outside source. He put on his jacket and stuffed the watch into his pocket. As he left, he made sure the protective barriers he cast around his house were in place; nothing in or out. If he was going to help he needed to get a few things first.