The Gatekeeper

Part III Love Child Chapter 17

During the flashback I continually spoke words of reassurance to the child in crisis.  

"Mommy, why didn't you stop him, why mommy, why? I don't want those pills and I'm not sick! You should have been there to stop him, Mommy," her child's voice sobbed over and over.

ALTHOUGH LAUREN’S mother was not directly involved in any overt abuse, she was a coconspirator in the sense that whenever she was forced to become involved in the aftermath of a molestation event, she helped cover up what had happened by trying to make Lauren believe that it really didn't happen. She even went as far as to tranquilize the child to calm her into unconsciousness. Her mother always denied having knowledge of any abuse going on in her household. 

How was Lauren going to react to the conformation of her claim that her uncle raped her while her mother covered up the abhorrent act. 

Lauren always spoke so highly of her mother. The thought that her mother could have abandoned her to a lifetime of painful suffering may be more than Lauren could cope with. 

The monstrous memory was released and when Lauren, the adult, regained consciousness she was still in the ethereal echo of the intense mind quake. 

"My god," she said with disgust, "I can taste semen in my mouth." 

She also felt blood flowing near her vagina, and probing with her hand found actual blood and torn, sore labial tissue. Her body began to ache from the gymnastic-like contortions that took place in the car during the flashback. Her vision was still distorted and she was near collapse. 

Somehow the memory lingered into the present for the first time. Lauren continued to taste and smell the semen, and feel vaginal pain and soreness as if she had just been violently raped. When I attempted to explain to her in graphic detail what had happened and its significance, her perception began to break up.

Like a radio signal full of static, her instinctive repression mechanisms took over, but the block was breaking down. The flashbacks were proof of that, but the solar storm of psychic activity was short-circuiting her fragile mind. 

Certain drugs were able to open a channel into the subconscious, making it easier for repressed memories to escape. Lauren had recently been prescribed a migraine medication which seemed to be in this class of medications that affect memory storage and processing.

HOME NOW AND RESTED, Lauren gathered what little strength she had left in order to continue preparations for New Year's Eve. The gown was being altered, various accessories were needed, and how was she going to wear her hair. She called an old friend who worked with her professionally when she was in her prime as a supermodel. 

"Simon, hello darling!"

"Lauren my dear, how are you?"

"I'm back from Canada and in need of your unparalleled artistic touch."

"What can I do for you . . . anything . . . you come in tomorrow afternoon."

He was hairdresser to the rich and famous. He couldn't have been happier to hear from Lauren, having wondered many times what happened to her when she disappeared from the modeling scene in the Midwest several years ago. Holiday-pressed for time, he nevertheless gave her an appointment the following day.

As always, but that day in particular, Lauren looked like an angel, dressed in white, from whipping cream-colored leather boots to white tight-knit leg wear and an oversized ivory wool sweater, scarf and hat. This former supermodel had recreated the high-fashion look that used to project her rising-star status.