Page 94 of Pretty Nightmare

Hmm. … OK. … OK. Got it. Feel the mist off the sea. Hear the blowing of the leaves in the jungle—Oh, God. Donovan. I don’t know about this.

What?

I’m picturing this fucking jungle. I’m on this beach. I don’t know if I can do this.

What do you mean?

I think it’s like fucking with my head, or something. I don’t want to be on that beach. I was OK until the jungle part.

Indie. We are literally two minutes into this.

I’m just saying. This is making me feel weird.

Weird how?

… (deep breathing) Is this your grandfather’s island?

No. No. God. I wouldn’t do that to you. It’s my home island.

…

Why, Indie?

I don’t want to picture any tropical islands.

It’s me picturing, not you.

But I have to say the words. I feel like I’m going on this trip with you. And I’m not sure I can do any islands. This was the Caribbean?

Yeah.

Then no. We need a new guide… thingy. You need to make a new script. Let’s be in the mountains. I’m pretty OK with mountains.

OK, forget it.

I get up and turn off the recorder, then toss it onto the bed. It bounces and then disappears over the side and lands on the floor with a thunk.

“Jesus, Donovan. I’m sorry. But I… I… I just—”

“Never mind. It’s fine.” I rub my temples with two fingers on both sides. “I didn’t really think this was going to work.”

Indie gets up from the chair and sits next to me on the bed. Puts her arm around me. “I’m sorry. Let’s do it again. I’ll try harder.”

“No. You’re right. Hell, this whole treatment I’ve been giving myself for the past four years is probably stupid, anyway.”

“Whoa. You’ve been doing this for four years?”

“Yeah. After… that day, you know—”

“Um. Yup. I get it.”

“—well, I went up to Wyoming. I have a friend there who runs a healing center. A huge ranch with all this spa stuff. And she’s all new age-y.” I point my finger at Indie. “But not stupid. None of it is stupid. She’s got a PhD in cognitive neuroscience. So it’s got science behind it. Anyway, I went there and that’s how I came up with this treatment plan for self-guided hypnosis.”

“Nice.” She sighs. “I could use a spa-like healing center. We should go together.”

“It’s closed.”

“What? Fucking A. I always miss the good shit. Why’d she close it down?”