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Daisy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rachel Jorgensen

 

1449 East Crossing Lane

 

Mount Pleasant, SC 29466

 

(843) 817-2665 / (843)971-9313

 

tyrsia@go.com / jorgensenr@cofc.edu


            Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

            Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

            Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

            Daisy awoke to mash the snooze button on her alarm clock.  Then she rolled over and dreamt for a few more precious minutes.

            She walked the line between light and darkness.  She stood on a cliff.  To her right was a grassy field of flowers and mountain rising up above her.  To her left was utter darkness.  Out of the darkness came a tube of light, but it had darkness at it’s core.  It was coming towards her about to overtake her.

            Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

            Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

            Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

            Daisy had to get up and face reality.  She donned her Blimpey’s uniform and pulled her hair back.  The spirit of her dreams lingered.  They were so bizarre. What had she eaten before bed last night?

            All day she made sandwiches and small talk like a robot.  Came home and watched TV, had a snack, and went to bed.  The memory of the deed was buried in self-defense.  Couldn’t let it surface.  That would be self-destruction.  Daisy was falling.  The being of light approached her.  Trying to put its center in her.  She saw herself reflected on its surface.  It scared her into consciousness.

            She looked at the clock.  1:35 AM.  Clocks never lie.  Unlike people.  People can lie before judges.  Under oath.  Why was she thinking about that?  She hadn’t lied.  She wouldn’t want to lie.  All she wanted was justice.  And justice was served.  Daisy went back to sleep.

            Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

            9:00 AM.  Stupid annoying alarm clock.  It’s Saturday.  She turned it off.

            Oh yeah, the appointment with Dr. Green.  She got ready, and drove over to his office.

            “Come in and sit down,” the receptionist told her, “Dr. Green will be with you in a moment.”  A moment could last forever.  Like the moment when… no, what was she thinking?  Must have been a dream.

            “Daisy White?”  Dr. Green asked.  He had a kindly old professor face.  Graying hair and a large brown mustache.  He shouldn’t be too hard to get along with.

            She went into his study and lay down on his couch.  “Now,” he began, “how about we start with you telling me why you are here.”

            “Why?” Daisy repeated the question quietly.  She felt so embarrassed.  Crazy people go to psychiatrists,, not sweet little Daisy White.  Deep inside, Daisy felt afraid.  Shouldn’t Dr. Green know the answer?  It had something to do with the murder.  But why?  Really why?  “I dunno…don’t you know?”

            “Yes, I know,” Dr. Green replied soothingly, “But this is for your benefit.  We need to get things sorted out in your mind.”

            She sighed, hating to think about it, hating to relive the experience.  “Twelve days ago I witnessed a murder,” she began shakily.

            Dr. Green’s face contorted into that of a demon.  “Witnessssss?” it hissed, “You did more than witnessssss!”  Its eyes burst into flame and it lunged for her.

            Daisy screamed and threw her arms up to protect herself.  She could feel its claws digging into her shoulder, trying to possess her.

            “Daisy!”  It was the voice of Dr. Green.  He gripped her shoulder firmly, willing her back into reality.  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

            Green relaxed.  “Do you want to tell me what just happened?” he asked.

            What just happened?  Daisy shook her head to clear it.  “Nothing,” she said, dazedly.  “I—just—got scared.”

            “Scared of what?”

            “Demons,” Daisy whispered very softly.  “I don’t know,” she said loudly to cover for the momentary slip.  She lurked on the border of the cliff drop even when she wasn’t dreaming.

            “Now Daisy,” Dr. Green coaxed, “That’s the one answer I don’t want to hear in this office.  The truth is you do know why, and we just need to help you regress into your subconscious to find the real answer.  We will try several methods to help you do this, but for now I just want you to think very hard and answer me as truthfully as possible.  Why were you scared?”

            “I—I just don’t…”

            “You know I can’t accept that answer.  You don’t have to answer me right away, just sit back and think about it.  Answer whenever you are ready.  What were you scared of?”

            What was she scared of?  Demons.  That sounded like a schizophrenic delusion.  Daisy is not crazy.  Not crazy.  She couldn’t have been scared of demons—that’s just stupid.  She was scared of Harry.  Couldn’t be scared of Harry.  He’s dead.  I saw him die.  Don’t want to talk about it.  She does not want to talk about it.  “I don’t want to talk about it.”  Shouldn’t have to talk about what she doesn’t want to.  After all, she’s paying Green.

            Green smiled an easy, nonthreatening smile.  “Daisy, if you want to get through this you are going to have to talk to me,” Dr. Green soothed, “I am here to listen, and to help you figure this out, not to solve your problems for you.”

            “But isn’t that…nevermind.”  Daisy had to think.  Not here to solve her problems.  Wasn’t that his job?  Solve her problems.  What problems?  Daisy had no problems.  She witnessed a murder.  She saw the dead body.  Have you ever seen a dead body before?  Recently dead?  It looks almost alive, but there’s this essence missing.  Instead of life you feel this overpowering lack.  His feet were bare.  Soft.  No calluses.  Dead feet.  They had no more problems.  Daisy had no problems.

            “Daisy?  Did you hear me?”  Dr. Green’s smiling face now had a distinctively sinister cast to it.  “I need you to think aloud, Daisy, and quit retreating into yourself.  Think to me.”

            “I can’t,” she timidly offered.  Her sense of alarm was returning.   Think aloud?  Private thoughts!  Not his business!  “I’m not thinking about anything anyway.”  A small lie offered up to the altar of prognosis.

            Dr. Green smiled again.  “I’ll help you out then.  I’ll provide a word to start you thinking, and you say everything that comes to mind when I say that word.  Let’s start with an easy word…water.”

            “Water?” Daisy thought about it.  How stupid.  What did water have to do with her non-problems?  “I don’t know.”

            “Daisy that answer’s not allowed in this office, remember?  Just say whatever comes into your mind, and keep talking, until I stop you.  Let’s try again.  House.”

            “House.  Home.  Hole.  Cave.  Security.  Uuuh…I don’t know.  Stuff.  Lot’s of meaningless stuff scattered everywhere.  TV.  News.  Network.  People.  Lots of people interconnected by invisible binding strands.  If one is severed the entire population suffers a loss.  Those feet.  Those pudgy feet.  Disconnected.  The strand is broken, freeing the soul.  The others are alone.  Afraid. “ Oh my gosh I’m doing it I’m giving into his tactics Nonononononononono I must stop.  “Uuuh…I don’t know.  I’m done.”  Finished.  Daisy feels violated.  Unfair of Dr. Green to trick her so.  He doesn’t need to know about the network or the feet or any of her secret ideas.

            She looked sullenly at Dr. Green, noticing his mustache tickle annoyingly at his fore lip as he talked.  “Very good Daisy.”  Very good indeed.  For him!  “You have started on the path to unleashing your feelings.”  Unleashing the dark-core cylinder.  “Next word.  Murder.”

            You.  She almost said it aloud.  Murder Dr. Green in this room with the cord hanging from the blinds over there.  Of course she wasn’t serious.

            “Daisy?  You’re supposed to think out loud, remember?”

            Out loud you liar.  Never again will I think to you.  I hate you.  Traitor.

            “Daisy?  You did so well on the first one, now why don’t you try to do even better on this one.”

            Hate you.  Hate you.  Hate you.

            “Perhaps you’d like me to try a different word?”

            “I think I should go now, Dr. Green.  I think I am feeling much better, and I’m ready to leave.”

            “I don’t think that is wise, Daisy.  I think we are onto something and we need to continue.”

            “No, Dr. Green.  I am leaving.”  Daisy got up, crossed the room to the door, and made her exit.

            Who did that psychiatrist think he was?  Blasted idiot.  Daisy left the office building and found her light blue coupe in the parking lot.  Back into the escape zone.  She started her car and drove home.  To her safety net.  Inside, she cuddled the sofa and stared vacantly into the television.  A murder mystery.  Colombo was confronting the murderer.  No!  She flipped to the news.

“In other news tonight, the trial of Ned Gerund drags on.  Despite the overwhelming circumstantial evidence against him, he claims to be the innocent victim of a framing…”  Daisy stared beyond the TV screen into her land of dreams.  She stared into the black muddy heart of a giant dung beetle.  You will be consumed.  No.  Who will be consumed?  The dung beetle was going to eat Daisy.  Daisy jolted back into reality.  “Hugga-Wuggas keep you drier than other diapers, and for cheaper too!” 

            Daisy flicked off the TV and walked to the refrigerator, in search of a nice juicy dung beetle.  What?  Dung beetle?  Yuck!  She’d wanted a ham and cheese sandwich.  Suddenly the sandwich looked unappetizing.  Daisy closed the refrigerator door and wandered towards her bedroom.  Wake up, Daisy, you have to remember.

            Daisy had always been a victim.  Born into a poor, abusive family.  They spanked her when she pulled her brother’s hair.  Could never afford to buy her genuine Barbies.  She was always stuck with the generic Kelsey dolls.  Even her best friend Sam used to call her dolls trailer trash Barbies.  She couldn’t get a good job because nobody liked her.  Stupid excused and GED-phobia.  Then she was almost murdered.  She’d survived but she had to watch her boyfriend die in a pool of blood.  Now she was going to a shrink for psychological help.  And none of it was her fault.  It was just how the cards were dealt.

            Nothing was ever her fault.  She never started anything.  Never caused a problem.  Never caused anything good to happen either.  If only something could be her fault for once, maybe she would be happier.

            Daisy eyed her bed.  Clock.  10:26 AM.  Too early.  Too early for a nap even?  She felt so bored.  She sat down on her bed to decide what to do.  Why had Dr. Green been so pushy?  She should have stayed.  She needed help.  No I don’t. I have no problems.  I need nothing.   But she did need Dr. Green to tell her what’s wrong, prescribe a medicine, and let her go on with her life.  She lay down and stared at the patterns in her ceiling.

            They cylinder of light haunted her dreams.  She was trying to get away from it, but it chased after her, until finally she was pinned down.  It surrounded her in light as its dark core passed into her inner self—Daisy woke up at 11:16 AM.  Why had she fallen asleep?  Stupid Daisy!  Don’t sleep in the middle of the day.  There are better things to do.  Lazy Daisy!  L-A-Z-Y!

            Daisy got out of bed and wandered to the kitchen.  No dishes.  She went into the bathroom.  What a mess.  Daisy tried to clean the bathroom up, but her mind kept failing.  The toilet grinned a monster grin and tried to flush Daisy into its filth.  Wake up Daisy, wake up!  But she was awake.

            Perhaps she did need Dr. Green’s help after all.  He was a professional, right?  Maybe she should go back.

            She needed a friend.  Someone to hold her mind and control it, to keep her mind for her and help her harness its power.  Someone to find her suppressed genius and admire it, worship it, allow it to run free yet hold it in check.  Someone exactly the opposite of Harry.  Harry the dork.  The dead dork with the pudgy feet. Oh not the feet again!  Why did he have bare feet?  This one time he had taken his shoes off, and why?  For her?  Had it been for her free barefoot love?  No.  He hadn’t cared one whit about her mind.  Her protected fragile lovely mind, ready to bloom into the most beautiful of flowers for just a moment.  Instead he’d trampled on it, accidentally, with his clumsy booted feet.  She made him take his shoes off because it was raining outside, and she’d just cleaned his apartment…

 

            “Come in and sit down,” the receptionist told her, “Dr. Green will be with you in a  moment.”  A moment could last forever.  Daisy tried not to think about it though.

             “Daisy White?” Dr. Green asked, then spotted her. “Ah yes Daisy, I see we’ve come back.”  Green smiled the smug all-knowing smile of a physician with the miracle cure.  “Come on into my office and we’ll talk.”

            Daisy entered the office and hesitantly sat on the couch.  The door flew shut and resounded in its frame behind her.  Dr. Green stood there, smiling.  “Since I started last time, why don’t you begin our little session this time?” he asked.

            Daisy looked at him, then laughed.  She tried to hold back the anger but it came out all at once in a rush.  “You fraud!” she cried, “I get it now!  I pay YOU so that I can do all the work!  What a fraud!”  She smiled, feeling good about getting that off her shoulders, feeling good about speaking her mind.  Yes, definitely.   She was feeling good.

            Dr. Green smiled amusedly at her.  “I suppose you could see it that way,” he said, obviously feeling no need to defend himself, “but do remember, I am not trying to solve your problems for you, but only help you solve them yourself.”

            Daisy snickered, then sobered.  “Problems?  What problems I have no problems I am fine and happy.  Nothing is wrong at all I am just fine why did I even come here there are no problems I am doing great!  No problems at all.”

            Dr. Green sighed.  “And the murder you witnessed?”

            No please not the demon again.  Please!  Oh good no demons.  Daisy sobbed mechanically.  “I don’t know I don’t know I don’t even know what happened.  I can’t even remember it that clearly, I just know someone died and I saw it and ooooooooh.”  She began to whimper.

            “It’s okay Daisy, just let it all out.  Keep talking.”  Dr. Green sat down behind his desk and fumbled with something in one of the drawers.  Click!  Almost like the hammer of a gun being pulled back.  The gloved hand shakily pulled back the hammer, and pointed it at Harry.  Never again.  Never will you humiliate me again, Harry.  My thoughts…MY THOUGHTS!!!  Green.  Green is watching.  Snap out of it.

            “Twelve days ago, I witnessed a murder,” the words came in well-rehearsed breathy segments, “I was at my boyfriend Harry’s house, and the demons came.  They killed Harry and me.  They killed us both and now they are going to kill you!  You and all your children will die from the curse just like we did.”  Did I say that?  Or was it my imagination again?

            “Could you repeat that last part, Daisy?” Dr. Green requested.

            “I said I was at my boyfriend Harry’s house, when we heard a knock at the door.  He went into the hall to answer it and there was a demon at the door.  It attacked him and ripped out his heart with the knife and ate it.  Then it attacked me, but I escaped.”

            “What?”

            “He went to answer it and I followed him.  When the door opened there was somebody dressed in black wearing a ski mask and holding a gun.  Whoever it was pushed their way into the house and ordered us to hand over all our valuables.  Only Harry started to run.  Like a coward, but I feel so guilty calling him that.”

            “It’s okay you have to come to face how you are feeling.”

            “I feel guilty but that’s how it was.  Not even a thought for me just—runs away towards the kitchen door and—the person shot him.  I saw the gloved hand pull the trigger.  Everything slowed down.  I heard the person breathing.  So close to his head.  Blood everywhere.  He just died.  I heard his soul screaming as he left.  I know he went to hell.  Harry wasn’t a good person.  But nobody should die that way, right?  Right?  RIGHT?  Maybe…I don’t know.  I don’t know. I don’t know.”  Daisy looked down at the floor, relieved of her burden.  But Dr. Green was getting up.  He wanted more.

            “Daisy, please describe the killer in more detail.  This will help you to heal from your psychological wound.”  Dr. Green’s voice was different now, more soothing.

            Daisy eyed him suspiciously.  Why did he want this so badly?  What was his secret motive?  She needed a miracle cure…a potion to ward off the demons.  But what did he need?  She had to know.  She had to know about Dr. Green.  She knew already.

            “And his hands?,” Dr. Green was breathing into her face, “Was he left or right handed?”

            Then a moment of lucidity, when Daisy knew the perfect route to freedom.  “Are you making a suggestion?”  Daisy shoved Green aside.  She started skipping in circles around Dr. Green, waving her left hand in his face.  “Trying to trap me?  Ha!  It was a she, I think.  She was left handed like me.  Just like me, she was short and fat and the black did nothing to cover it up.”  Daisy giggled and hoisted herself onto Dr. Green’s desk.

            Green seemed to be getting nervous.  He moved towards the intercom but Daisy sat on it.  “Daisy,” he enunciated each word, “please get off my desk.”  Daisy laughed at him and yanked out the tape recorder he had hidden under his desk.

            “Thought I wouldn’t notice this, huh?” she exulted.  She held the tape recorder, still recording, aloft.  “Admit it Dr. Green!” she shouted, “You killed Harry!  Mr. Green in the kitchen with the revolver!”

            Dr. Green grinned knowingly.  “Is that a suggestion, or an accusation?”  He pulled a small brown envelope marked “Case File” out from under a sofa cushion.

            Daisy reached out for the envelope.  “Accusation!” she shouted, taking the envelope.  She pulled out the three cards contained within and lay them face up on the desk.  Kitchen.  Revolver.  The blue magnifying glass on the back of the final card wavered for a moment, then she flipped the card over.  Daisy’s own face stared back at her.  Miss White.

            She swallowed, and slowly put the cards back into the envelope.  “I was wrong,” she admitted, and said no more.  Miss White in the kitchen with the revolver.  Me.  I did it!  Daisy in the kitchen with the revolver.  I killed Harry In the kitchen with the revolver.  Me.  Me.  Miss White.  Daisy White.  In the kitchen.  With the revolver.

 

            “Daisy.  Daisy snap out of it.  Daisy?”  Somebody was snapping his fingers in front of Daisy’s face.

            “Harry?” Daisy tried to focus on the face before her.

            “We lost Daisy,” Harry was saying, “Joe won again.”

            “I keep telling you Green’s my lucky guy.  I win with him every time,” Joe was bragging.  “It’s alright Daisy, next time I’ll let you be Mr. Green.”

            “No thanks,” Daisy replied, not looking at Joe as she spoke.  “I prefer Miss White anyway, even if she’s not so lucky.  She’ll get her chance.”  Her eyes drifted to the floor, where they struck upon a most annoying thing.  “Harry, didn’t I tell you three times already to take off those muddy boots?”