She shrank away from the squid that was turning itself in a slow circle, its remaining legs twisting obscenely. Del took two steps back, one of her hands coming up to cover her mouth, surely to stanch another scream, but just then she slipped. Her feet tangled and she began to fall.
I leapt over the dying cephalopod and snagged her hand, ignoring the slime that covered it, and pulled her to me, stopping her fall. She was stiff as a wooden timber and shaking. Her whole body trembled beneath her clothes like she had been hooked to high voltage. I stroked her hair.
“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” I whispered. My voice was surprisingly steady in comparison to how my insides shriveled and crawled, mirroring the squid’s feeble movements across the wood floor. My mind was screaming countless questions, a barrage that I had no answers for.
“Jason.” She sobbed my name, crying fully now and leaning all of her weight on me. “What’s happening to me?”
I continued to stroke her hair and stare at the squid, its movements slowing. “I don’t know, honey. I don’t know.”
~
I slept in bouts and fits through the night, mostly because Del kept waking and clinging to me as if she were falling. I had brought her up to our bathroom after the incident and bathed her, washed her hair, helped her brush her teeth, speaking as calmly as I could, reassuring her that she was okay, that she was safe. She didn’t seem to be fully conscious of what I was saying, her eyes drifting shut again and again. When I finally got her into bed, she fell asleep almost at once. I took the opportunity to go downstairs and retrieve the squid from the floor. It was dead when I tossed it into the container with its two healthy companions. I walked down to the ocean and stepped close to the tideline, emptying them all into the sea. I stood there for a short time, looking out across the darkening waters before returning to the house. I had no appetite and simply washed my hands and face before climbing into bed beside her, but not before I called the first psychiatrist I found in the phone book. I left a message on a separate line that was given, since it was after hours, and the doctor, a man by the name of Jeff Chave, returned my call in the morning saying he would be happy to see me before his first appointment.
When I left the house, Del was sleeping solidly for the first time all night, her hair splayed out on her pillow. She looked so peaceful I could almost pretend that the night before hadn’t happened. I locked the door behind me, jingling Del’s keys in one hand. I didn’t want her having access to her car while I was gone, and though I felt a twinge of self-loathing at taking her transportation away like a jailer, I would never forgive myself if something happened to her.
The drive to Chave’s office was fairly quick, and his receptionist greeted me before showing me into a comfortable room complete with a leather reclining chair and a small stool beside it. One wall held a tall bookshelf filled with tomes, and a wilting plant sat in one corner. A single window covered with a thin drape let in sickly light from the day that seemed would get no brighter. I sat in the recliner studying my hands until I heard footsteps approaching the door. Chave stepped into the room and greeted me with a warm smile and a handshake filled with strength I didn’t expect. He was middle aged, a small potbelly hid behind a yellow shirt beneath a hounds tooth coat. He had a full head of iron-gray hair and wore a beard the same color. His eyes were dark brown, magnified by the thick glasses he wore.
He took a seat on the stool beside me and scooted it back, giving us some distance to study one another.
“So Jason, normally I spend the better part of the first hour getting to know my patients, their interests, their familial records and whatnot, but you sounded urgent on your message last night.” Chave’s eyes ran over me, missing nothing. “What can I do for you?”
How could I begin? How could I speak of what had transpired over the prior months? My initial thoughts had been to test out the doctor, see if he would be a person we could trust before sending Del to him. But now, under his unflinching gaze, I faltered.
“Doctor, I don’t know what’s happening to my wife. I—” My mouth hung open and my tongue worked, but no words came. Instead, tears flooded my vision and one leaked out. I wiped it away and shook my head, trying to clear my voice with a cough.
“It’s okay, Jason, believe me, nothing you’re going to say is going to shock me. I won’t judge you or your wife. I won’t condemn any actions you’ve taken so far. I’m simply here to listen and help if I can. So why don’t you begin at the beginning, as they say.”
I took a deep breath, nodding, and began to speak.
Everything poured from me. It came out in an unbroken narrative threaded with patches where my voice failed me. I choked out last night’s events, barely keeping control of my emotions. My heels drummed on the floor and I felt the urge to bolt from the room, just tear the door open and run into the street, breathe the fresh air and keep going until my body failed me. When I finished, a deep silence invaded the room and Chave blinked, taking in a long breath.
“Well Jason, first off, I’m very glad you came to me because this does sound serious. The loss of one’s surroundings or conscious acts are not things to be taken lightly. Without seeing your wife and speaking to her, I can only make educated guesses as to her condition.”
“That’s fine, I’m just looking for something to go on.”
“I know you’re frightened and worried for your wife and unborn child, but this isn’t the end of the world. The mind is more complex than we could ever know. It’s like the ocean. No matter how far we delve into its depths and map its floor, we’ll never truly know all of its secrets. And don’t feel ashamed for your emotional responses to the events, they were and are perfectly normal given the circumstances.” Chave paused and shifted on the stool. “Jason, I believe your wife may be experiencing some type of seizures, but not any typical kind that can be easily diagnosed. I believe these episodes are unique and possibly are being brought on by a traumatic event in her past.”
I shook my head. “She would have told me if something terrible had happened to her. I mean, her mother disappeared seven or eight years ago, but there was never anything that pointed to foul play. Her body was never found or anything.”
“Ah, but this might be the source of what we’re looking for. Even something a person has divulged and dealt with on a conscious level may come back to haunt them, so to speak. Memories are the densest things in the world, Jason. They are heavier than anyone knows, most times their burden becomes clear last to those who carry them.”
“You think her mother missing could have—” I waved my hand. “triggered all this?”
“It’s possible, given the right circumstances. Especially with the expected arrival of your child. The responsibility of parenthood is daunting to say the least. Perhaps, and I’m only extrapolating once again, perhaps the changes to your wife’s body along with the realization that she will soon be a mother, brought these emotions and memories to the surface and these episodes she’s experiencing are her mind’s way of coping.”
I struggled to absorb the theory. I hadn’t given much thought to Del’s mother in years. She had been so matter-of-fact about the whole thing, it seemed a moot topic that she’d put to rest long before she met me. But perhaps the doctor was correct. Maybe by becoming a mother herself something inside her had broken open, a trove of undiscovered emotions that bubbled up from a chasm she didn’t know she played host to.
Slowly I nodded. “It could be,” I said, not looking up.