Part  Nineteen: Slipping/ School Hard

IFF

Thursday, February 15, 2001

7:30 AM


"How are you doing this morning, Jenna?" Dr. Pfaff asked.

"Not so good." Jenna stared down at the carpet,
tracing a small circle with her toe. "My chest hurts, and I just feel
like--" it seemed like she was always complaining these days--part of her
wondered how long it would be before everyone got sick of her.

"I'm sorry," she said finally.

Dr. Pfaff sat in the chair, unwrapping his ice cream.
"Sorry for what?"

"Do you ever eat anything besides ice cream?"
Jenna asked suddenly.

"Yeah--I like all kinds of food, but I do particularly
like ice cream. Why do you ask?"

"No reason--I just wondered."

Dr. Pfaff nodded sagely. "That makes sense--and I was
wondering why you apologized."

"I'm just--I'm sorry that I'm not doing so good this
morning, that's all." Jenna stared
at the opposite wall where there was a painting--a meadow--a girl sat in the
meadow, looking at the farmhouse in the distance, her thin hands grasping at
the dry grass. It was strange how she'd never noticed it before, but something
about the painting made her feel sad and lost--she shivered slightly.

"Munchkin?" Dad's voice broke into her
thoughts--Jenna looked at him sitiing beside her.

"I'm fine," she told him.

"Do you like that painting?" Dr. Pfaff asked.

"No." Jenna shook her head. "Not really--it
seems sad to me."

"Really," Dr. Pfaff raised his eyebrows. "In
what way?"

"Because the girl wants to get to the house--she wants
to get home, but she can't--her legs can't move--and pretty soon it's going to
rain and she'll be left all alone,"
Jenna said. "I'm sorry--that sounds silly."

"No, actually it's a very interesting
interpretation," Dr. Pfaff told her. "So--back to the earlier
subject--why do you think you need to be sorry?"

Jenna struggled to pull the right words from her brain.
"Because--I should be doing better--I want to be doing better--all I want
is to make everyone happy so they won't worry."

"Okay." Dr.
Pfaff took a bite of his ice cream. "What about making you happy?"

Jenna stared. "I don't understand."

"We're here for you, Jenna--this is about helping you
feel better--dealing with your fears--on your time, not ours. You don't have to
feel rushed or pressured about anything--and you certainly don't need to
pretend."

Dad took her hand, squeezing it. "He's right,
Jenna--this is about you."

"I know you had a bad night last night," Dr. Pfaff
said. "Your mom had me on the phone when you were
hyperventilating."

"Yeah--"
Jenna remembered her chest tightening--the feeling of not being able to
take in enough air--so cold--her heart pounding so rapidly that she imagined it
bursting through her chest, falling onto the floor--her hands felt numb--then
the sound of her father's voice, telling her to look at him, to breathe--

"It was pretty bad," she told him.

"I can imagine," Dr. Pfaff said. "What
happened before that?"

"I was watching the news when they
showed--him."

"You mean Gary Johnston?"

Jenna nodded.

"Tell me more about that."

Jenna hesitated--she could feel dad's hand still holding
hers--it was comforting. "They showed a picture of him--and his
lawyer--his lawyer was saying that his client was going to get out--that the
charges would be dropped--and then I saw his picture--his face--and it--I guess
it scared me."

"It scared you pretty bad, from the sound of it,"
Dr. Pfaff said. "Why did it scare you?"

"Because they said he was getting out--I thought he
would come for me--" Jenna's voice faltered.

"But just because his lawyer says it doesn't make it
true," Dr. Pfaff told her. "That man is paid to defend him."

"It could happen though," Jenna said. "It's
possible."

"Well anything is possible--but there's a lot of
evidence against him--hard evidence."

"Yeah, and Dad said to remember that he's in
handcuffs--that he's a prisoner and I'm not."

"Your dad is right," Dr. Pfaff said. "So, was
that all it was about? You were worried he was going to be released?"

Gary Johnston stood over her, floating in and out of
focus--suddenly he grabbed her arm by the wrist, twisting it until she cried
out--Jenna tried to move but her body wouldn't cooperate--her head throbbed and
it was taking all of her concentration just to remain conscious.

"You won't be needing this, Jenna--not where you're
going..."

"My watch--where did it go?"

The last part--Jenna could hear her own voice in her
head--the panic in those words--she was pretty sure that had been from last
night. But where had the first part come from?
The harder she struggled to recall the more the memory slipped away

"That was all," Jenna said out loud. "I was
scared he was getting out."

"I see," Dr. Pfaff said. "What about your
watch?"

"I don't know--I thought I had it on when I was
kidnapped." Jenna's head began to throb slightly. "I think I maybe
lost it or--but I'm not sure."

"Not sure that you had it or not sure how you lost
it?"

"I don't know," Jenna repeated--using her free
hand to rub her forehead. "I was probably wrong but I don't know. Maybe I
just replaced it somewhere--it doesn't really matter anyway."

For a few minutes Dr. Pfaff was silent, just looking at her.
"How do you feel about Gary Johnston being in handcuffs and behind
bars?"

"I feel--like that's where he belongs," Jenna
said. "I want him to be where he can't hurt me again--where he can't hurt
anybody else either."

"For how long? What would you like to see happen to
him?"

"I don't--all I want is to not be hurt again--I want
him far away."

"Have you actually thought about a trial? About what
would happen there?"

Dr. Pfaff's question made Jenna pause for a moment while she
tried to sort out her thoughts. "I hadn't really--I mean, I guess I know
there will be one sometime but I hadn't actually thought about what would
happen."

"What if you had to testify--with Gary sitting in the courtroom?"

Testify--telling everyone what he did to her--and he would
be there--those eyes looking at her--Jenna swallowed hard. In her mind's eye
she imagined seeing him--his eyes so cold--holding her in place, not able to
move--"I don't--" she choked out "--I don't know if I--"

"Breathe," Dr. Pfaff reminded her. "Like you
did last night--I don't want you to hyperventilate again." Jenna felt her
breathing slow.

Dad squeezed her hand again. "Good job, munchkin."

"Is that what happened last night?" Dr. Pfaff asked.

"Pretty much," Jenna told him. "I guess I
panicked--the breathing with Dad--it helped."

Dr. Pfaff took another bite of the ice cream. "What
about the relaxation exercise? Did it help?"

"It helped--" Jenna admitted. "At first it
felt scary, and I felt silly when I had to tense all the muscles in my face,
but --after that everything felt better. And I didn't have any nightmares that
night."

"That's good," Dr. Pfaff said. "And I want
you to keep doing that exercise with your parents--soon you'll learn how to do
that all on your own if you start to panic. There's also another thing we can
try to help you relax. Have you ever heard about hypnotherapy?"

"Hypnosis?" Jenna remembered seeing something on a
talk show once--people who were hypnotized pretending to be ballet dancers or
something. "Isn't that like mind control?"

"No, Jenna--hypnosis isn't mind control, it's a
completely natural state--it just helps you to relax and focus--sort of like
the relaxation exercise that you've already done, and that wasn't bad at all,
was it?"

"No--it wasn't bad--it was nice." Another thought
occurred to her. "I wouldn't have to lie down for it though, would
I?"

"There's no need to lie down," Dr. Pfaff said.
"Sitting in a chair would be perfectly fine--whatever helps you to feel
safe is all right."

"What would the hypnosis do--apart from relaxing
me?"

"Well--it would help you to be able to talk about the
things that happened to you without feeling so anxious."

Not feeling anxious--that was a feeling that Jenna would
definitely like to have. "What about memories? Some of the things that
happened are--blurry--it's like I try to remember and then I can't."

"Well the more you push yourself the harder it can be
to remember," Dr. Pfaff said. "Sometimes it's best just to relax and
allow memory to come back naturally. But you might be holding back memories
that frighten you--hypnosis might make some of these memories a little less
frightening so you can talk about them."
He looked at the clock. "We wouldn't have time today, but we can
try it at your next session, if you like."

It did sound good, Jenna thought--but
still--"Dad?" she looked over
at him. "What do you think?"


"I think the decision is yours," Dad replied.
"You're in control here, Jenna--what do you want to do?"

What did she want to do? "You'll be there, right?"
she asked her Dad. "You won't leave?"

"I won't leave--I promise. I'll be right there the
whole time."

The whole time--Jenna looked at Dr. Pfaff.

"I'll do it."

 Kenmore Middle School

9:45 AM

"Well here we are," Lee said as they pulled in front of the school. "You missed
homeroom but with any luck you'll be able to catch most of your first
period--what is your first period?"

"Social Studies," Jenna said with a small sigh. "Now I have to explain why I
have no notes for my essay."

"Munchkin, your mother called the school this morning--she spoke to the
Principal and the guidance counselor--I'm sure your teacher will understand."

"You don't know Mrs. Taitz, Dad--she yells at you if your homework is even
wrinkled. She wasn't exactly happy with me yesterday, but now--"

"Jenna--she hasn't been yelling at you, has she?" Lee asked, looking closely at
his daughter.

"No, not yelling--not exactly--but I can tell she's disappointed in me--the
stuff she says."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Yesterday when I got a 74 on a pop quiz she just sighed and said 'Well, I guess
that's the best we can expect from you'--" Jenna's voice faltered slightly. "She
said it so that the whole class heard--one boy even laughed. I'm trying, but I
guess it's just not good enough for her."

In front of the whole class--Lee controlled his anger, making a mental note to
talk to Amanda about Jenna's teacher later on.

"You're doing fine," he told Jenna. "I used to hate pop quizzes at school."

"Yeah, I don't like them either. You went to a lot of different schools, didn't
you?"

"You have no idea--being an Air Force Brat--you know, one year I went to six
different schools in four different countries--they even discussed holding me
back that year."

"Wow--did they?"

"No--the Colonel wouldn't hear of it," Lee said. "But I know what it's like to
have a tough time in school. "You'll be just fine."

"Maybe." Jenna looked down at her hands.

"What is it?"

"I used to be good at Social Studies--I really was--before all this happened."

"Hey--" he touched her shoulder. "You still are good at Social Studies--you're
just having a rough time at the moment."

"A rough time? Dad, I can't even read a whole chapter--yesterday I read one page
four times and I couldn't even remember what it said."

Trouble concentrating--the PTSD--Lee tried to think of a way to explain this to
her. "Look--sometimes when you're under stress--you know, frightened--the way
you've been--sometimes that makes it hard to concentrate on things. But it's
only temporary, munchkin--I promise."

Jenna was silent for a few moments. "But what if it isn't temporary?" What if
it's--" her hand flew to her forehead. "You know--some sort of damage?"

"Damage? You are not damaged--they ran lots of tests in the hospital and they
all turned up just fine. Any problems would've showed up then."

"I was looking on the internet," Jenna said. "And they were talking about
traumatic brain injury--that some damage can be delayed. Some guy was hit on the
head and not even knocked out--"

"Jenna--" Lee said, but his daughter kept talking.

"--then his personality changed and he had mood swings--he went on disability
and filed a lawsuit--I was hit on the head a lot worse than that--"

"Well I've been hit on the head a few times and I'm still fine." Lee broke into
his daughter's ramble. "Trust me, okay? I know about these things. There is
nothing wrong with your brain. It's just stress and fear making everything
harder."

"Stress and fear?" Jenna repeated.

"That's right--stress and fear--and Dr. Pfaff and your mom and I--we're helping
you with that. This hypnosis will help you too, you know. Things will start to
get better--they really will."

"Okay," Jenna said. "I should probably go--before it gets any later."

"Well, here's something to take with you--" Lee removed the stuffed turtle from
his jacket pocket. "It was supposed to be for Valentine's Day."

"Oh, he's so cute." Jenna took the turtle--"And soft--he's got adorable eyes--"
she looked at the nametag and smiled. "Squirtle the Turtle." Her arms wrapped
around his neck. "Thanks, dad."

"Have a good day, munchkin--I love you."