Shaman - The Awakening

A Dream Within A Dream-2

The next day I went for an early run through Rock Creek Park. It was a crisp, cold morning, but I had dressed well for it. I enjoyed jogging in the park and swimming at the YMCA, because they were solitary sports which didn't require team effort. I could be left alone to my thoughts. After the run I went directly home for a shower, breakfast and a cafè mocha latte. I wanted to use the Christmas gift I got for myself; a Geneva Gourmet Coffee Maker. It was an expensive machine I had been observing for the longest time, but it had just gone on sale for the holidays. I didn't particularly care for the season; it always made me depressed, but I did enjoy the sales. I also enjoyed the Christmas spirit: what it meant and what was brought with it. 'Good Will To Men'.

After breakfast I was attempting to enjoy my cafè mocha latte when the telephone rang. I was an old fashioned guy who still had a home telephone. It was of the antique black stand up variety, with the horn-type listening device. I was a bit agitated when I answered, because I was looking forward to enjoying my cup of coffee in peace.

“Hello,” I answered in a perturbed voice.

“I'm sorry for disturbing you, Chris,” Dianna said, clearly having noted to the tension in my voice, “But did I lose my flash drive over there? I usually keep it on my keychain, but I couldn't find it this morning.”

“I didn't see it, but I'll look for it,” I replied.

“Ok, call me if you find it. And by the way, thanks again for a lovely evening.”

“It was my pleasure,” I replied. “I mean it; the next time it's my treat. We can either go out to eat or I can prepare dinner for us at my place,” she said.

“Sure, thanks,” I replied.

“So which will it be,” she asked?

“Whatever you prefer,” I replied.

“Oh, you're easy, huh? Ok; I'll cook dinner for us at my place. What are you doing for Christmas Eve?”

“Nothing special,” I replied.

“Ok then, you can come over to my place and we'll have dinner together.”

“Alright,” I responded.

“I'll talk to you later,” she said before hanging up the phone. Now I was certain she was interested in me. I need to see if the Bureau has a fraternizing policy.

I hung the telephone up and went back to enjoying my gourmet cup of coffee. I looked for her flash drive afterwards and discovered it between the cushions on the sofa. I called Dianna to notify her of my discovery. She inquired if I would be in later this afternoon, so she could pick it up. I informed her that I had a doctor's appointment at 2:00 pm. She asked if she could pick it up later in the evening, to which I agreed. My new doctor was Joaquinna D. Green, M.D. Dr. Banks felt it was time for me to move on and continue my therapy sessions with a fresher perspective, since I was in control of my dreams and doing well.

The real reason was of a more personal nature. He could no longer take the harassment from the police department and the media, when I was considered a prime suspect in the p********e a*******n case. I later vindicated myself and helped the police find the killer, but the damage had been done. I didn't blame him. He had a family with kids to consider.

When Dr. Green took my case, she was well aware of the publicity and high profile that came with having me for a patient. Although I was proven innocent, or should I say proved my innocence, there were still people who had their doubts. This was before the FBI took an interest in me. Dr. Green was young and single, with a new practice. Her having a high profile patient like me would do wonders for her career and resume. The publicity wouldn't hurt either.

It was early when I arrived at Dr. Green's office. She was still with another patient. I waited in the sitting area and read through the National Geographic on her table. She had better magazines than any of the shrinks I had visited and played dream games with. There was Sports Illustrated, Car and Driver, Vogue, Gentlemen's Quarterly and Time, just to name a few. Even better, they were all up to date; how I abhorred reading a Sports Illustrated article about an event that had happened several months ago, like articles about the past Superbowl in June!

I had been hooked up to just about every CAT scanning device and REM machine out there. I'd been hypnotized and traumatized by their science, but I'd come out standing tall. My mother had wanted me to have a normal life, free of the nightmares and sleep walking. Without her concern and help I would have never met Dr. Banks, who assisted me greatly in controlling this ability of mine.

Dr. Green didn't need proof of my abilities. She was well briefed by Dr. Banks, a leader in his field, who also published several books and publications for medical journals. He was a highly recognized, award-winning doctor. He had taught Dr. Green at Harvard Medical School.

Dr. Green had two employees working in her office. There was a middle aged woman, who handled most of the general receptionist duties. She answered the telephone, greeted the patients, checked them in and did filing. The other employee was a muscular young man, who worked on the computer and kept the office in order. I believe he was there for security purposes as well. He was the reason why so many of the magazines were geared towards men. He looked like a former jock of some sort.

A young woman exited the Analysis Room (AR) with Dr. Green. She was in her early twenties and extremely thin; perhaps anorexic. I could see her clavicle bone clearly through the blouse she was wearing, and her facial bones protruded sharply, as though shaped with a chisel.

“…Continue with that and I'll see you again next week,” Dr. Green said to the thin young lady as they approached the receptionist desk. She then turned her attention towards me with a smile.

“Hello, Christian. How are you?”

“I'm doing well, Dr. Green.”

“That's excellent. You can go in; I'll be right with you.”

She had a folder with the young lady's name on the label; Audrey Bynum. Dr. Green remained at the receptionist desk as I walked towards the AR. I had heightened my profiling and investigative skills after working with the police and the FBI, but even before then my vigilance was quick and accurate. I could walk into a room and describe everything I saw at a later date. It was a side effect of the dreamscaping. I learned how to pick apart and memorize visual scenes from my dreams, with the assistance of Dr. Banks.

Dr. Green's office was very comfortable, as most analysis rooms, except she didn't force her patients to lie on a couch or anything. I could walk around or do whatever I felt like at the moment. Her office looked like a living room. There were three leather recliner chairs and a plush leather sofa, all black, a coffee table in the center and lamp tables on each side of the sofa. She even had a flat screen television with a DVD player.

There were no clocks on the wall, or anywhere in her office. There was a huge window which she kept covered by automatic shades and curtains. The shades were designed to completely eliminate the daylight from outside. I had seen this before in the more expensive psychoanalysts' offices that I'd visited through my childhood.

She had two typical portraits on the wall; a rendition of Whistler's painting; 'The Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rockets and Van Gogh's 'Starry Night over the Rhone', which I found to be quite interesting. The theme of both of these paintings was dream states. The word Nocturne suggests a tranquil, dreamy mood. She also had a 1919 copy of 'The Interpretation of Dreams' by Freud in a glass case on the wall. It must have cost a fortune. It was clear Dr. Green, like Dr. Banks, had a particular interest in dreams.

She also had an expensive, black wooden desk in the corner of the room with Newton's Cradle which some call Pendulum Balls, on the desk. I always found this applied physics apparatus interesting. Dr. Green was not only smart, but had a very interesting mind of her own. She explained the Pendulum of Life with Newton's Cradle which was so insightful. I looked forward to our meetings; especially since the Bureau paid the bill. It was a stipulation of my agreement, which they had no problem in supplying.

Dr. Joaquinna Green was an African American woman, about 35 years of age, with long black hair which she wore pinned up in one of those modern, feminine hairstyles. She was a tall, about 5'10”, with a curvy, athletic body. You could see that she worked out. If I was to describe a celebrity who looked similar to her, it would be the actress Paula Patton. Dr. Green was wearing a grey power suit with a pink blouse and black high heel shoes, which accented perfectly sculptured calves covered by smoke grey stockings.

She didn't wear jewelry; no necklace or watch. She used her cell phone to time sessions inconspicuously. She wasn't worried about going over the allotted time, but she was concerned about other patients waiting. I was usually scheduled for an hour. As I stated before, I was her star patient and she had an added interest in dreams. That's why Dr. Banks referred me to her. This was her specialty, just like his.

“So, how's everything with you, Christian?”

“Everything is well, Dr. Green.”

“How's work?”

“Well, you know how that is. I'm induced into a dream trance and I live inside the dreams of psychopaths. No, I'm sorry; problematic individuals.”

She smiled when I corrected myself. “And how are you coping? Are you still doing yoga and meditating?”

“Yes,” I replied as I paced the room.

“What's bothering you today? You seem a little edgy,” she said She could tell I had something on my mind. Usually I'd play with the Pendulum Balls while we talked.

“I did want to speak to you about one of my colleagues.”

“Okay, tell me about it,” she replied while sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed.

She had my folder next to her while the recorder captured the session. She was polite enough not to write while we were in session. She gave the clients her full attention. That's what she liked referring to us as, instead of patients. She wanted to eliminate the stigma which accompanied the use of the word patient.

We discussed my relationship with Dianna for the rest of my session. Dr. Green provided me with a lot of food for thought. She thought it was a good thing to have Dianna as a close friend and encouraged it, but stated that we both needed to really think long and hard about taking it further than just friends. She pointed out all of the ramifications of having a relationship with someone you work with. She gave the pros and cons, but as usual left the decision making up to me. After our session she gave me a Christmas gift. This I hadn't anticipated. She must've had given one to Ms. Bynum when I came inside the AR, or on some other occasion.

“Thank you, Doc, but I didn't get you anything.”

“It's alright, Christian. The point of Christmas is to give without expecting to receive.”

The Doc had a way of putting everything into perspective and making it seem better. I still felt a little guilty because I didn't buy her anything. Now I had to purchase two additional gifts; one for the Doc and one for Dianna. I couldn't show up for dinner empty-handed on Christmas Eve.

When I left the Doc's office in Bethesda, I went directly to the Mazza Gallery on Wisconsin Avenue to shop for gifts, but was overwhelmed by the mob of people who were there. It took time and effort to find parking, so I gave up. I could only imagine how crowded it was inside! I continued down Wisconsin Ave. and stopped in a jeweler's. I saw a nice pair of diamond studs that I purchased for Dianna, and a Moldova watch for the Doc since she didn't have one.

I had only purchased one gift for Christmas before, and that was for Talayah, my niece in Atlanta. She was in grade school and we had a special relationship, since I was her only uncle. I didn't have anyone else to purchase gifts for, so I spent a little over my budget. I always sent my mother and sister cash; they had just about everything they could ever want.

It was late in the day and I didn't really have the time to spend looking for gifts. I also couldn't bear the crowds. The Doc has some big medical text book term for the condition; she calls it enochlophobia. I'd never heard of the word until she presented it to me. All I know is that I don't like being around a lot of people.

While on the way home I received another call from Dianna. She wanted to know if she could come by to pick up the flash drive. I told her I would be home in twenty minutes. She said she'd see me in two hours, so I stopped in the music shop on Connecticut Avenue and picked up some sheet music, vinyl albums and some CD's. I was thinking about getting back into teaching music again, but private lessons.

When I arrived home I was tired from dealing with the traffic and shopping, so I put on some jazz and lay down on the sofa until Dianna arrived. I was contemplating my discussion with Dr. Green about Dianna and me. Then I picked up the cello and bow, and began to play. It always eased my mind and helped me to think. I would close my eyes while playing and just go to a special place without dreams or the outside world. It was my private place. After about 45 minutes of playing, the doorbell rang and my serenity was shattered. Dianna had arrived for her flash drive.

“Good evening, Dianna; come in.”

“Good evening, Chris; please, don't stop playing because of me,” she stated, smiling as she entered.

“I was just trying to relax a little,” I replied.

“It sounded great! Take Five?” she inquired, correctly naming the piece I was playing.

“Yes,” I responded.

“Can I hear more?” she asked.

“Sure,” I stated and continued on the cello. I completed 'Take Five' and then went into my rendition of 'Summer Time', all on the cello. She was incredibly impressed, and smiling from ear to ear.

“I had no idea that you could play like that! I mean, your profile stated you taught music, but you can really play,” Dianna said smiling with enthusiasm.

“Thanks Dianna. Do you play?”

“No; not at all, but I do love jazz.”

“Excellent; that's something we have in common,” I replied.

“We have more in common than you know,” she replied with the most beautiful smile, still amazed. I returned the cello and bow to their designated place on my music wall and brought the flash drive to her.

“It seems you have the advantage on me. You read my file, but I haven't been privileged to see yours,” I said.

“Yeah, I know; you have to be an agent to get that privilege, and even then it has to be approved. All consultants' files are open for review,” she replied.

“I see,” I said, smiling.

“So, are we still on for Christmas Eve, because I purchased everything for our dinner?” she asked.

“I'm looking forward to it.”

“Good; then I'll talk to you later,” she said and leaned in, kissing me on the cheek. We were proceeding slowly but surely, and I liked it. I walked her back to her vehicle, and said goodbye as she departed.