Evil Dreams Read Free

necessary, trust this man who appeared self assured, almost cocky. Sam moved his hands very little when he spoke and at first, Jon found his steady gaze unnerving. While they talked, the doctor’s attitude brought Jon to a point where he began giving more than monosyllabic answers to the psychiatrist’s questions. When Sam smiled, his teeth flashed from a well tanned face, which Jon learned had been acquired during a four week vacation in Florida and the Bahamas the previous month.
    “I understand, Mr. Ward,” Sam said, “that doctors are not your favorite people.”
    “Who—?” he began.
    “Presbyterian Medical Center sent over a complete file on you. It says your dislike has something to do with the death of your mother. Is that correct?”
    “Well, the sonofa—, I mean, the doctor who attended her, refused to try any drugs on her when she was dying of cancer.” Jon bit his tongue. He had promised Trina after he had become angry at the doctor’s office last Saturday, not to let the memory of his mother’s death and its circumstances bother him to the point of using foul language. Why take his wrath out on this man?
    “When was that?”
    “I was nineteen. About fourteen years ago.”
    “And as a result, you’ve more or less avoided doctors since then?”
    He nodded. “It was my wife’s idea to go to a doctor now.”
    “I also read in your file that you’re an author?”
    Jon smiled, his face reddening. “Not really. I’ve taken a year’s leave of absence from teaching and am giving it the old college try.”
    “How do you feel about your wife supporting you? I see she’s also a teacher.”
    Shaking his head, he said, “You know everything, don’t you? Trina inherited a sizeable amount of money from her mother. She decided I should take the year off and write my novel.”
    Sam made a notation on his pad and looked up. “She decided?”
    “It’s not the way you think, Doctor. I didn’t want to, but she pointed out that it should be looked on as an investment in our future.”
    “Have you ever had anything published?”
    “Some articles. A few short stories. Not enough to say I could make it as a full time writer.”
    “I see,” he said, adding to his notes. “I believe the course we’ll follow will be one of associating different aspects of your dream to certain, if not all, areas of your present life as well as those of your past. Would you have any objection to the use of hypnotism if it became evident that the solution to your dream lay in its use?”
    Jon’s eyes widened. Hypnotism? Parlor tricks in a psychiatrist’s office? “I—I don’t know. Is that normal?”
    “Not in all cases. However, considering the length of time you’ve been having the same dream, it might become necessary to unlock certain memories stored in your subconscious mind. Without help of some type, you may never be able to recall them. I believe hynotism could be the key in your case.”
    Jon quietly wondered about the element of doubt where any acceptable conclusion was considered. Would baring his soul, unlocking his memories to be examined in minutest detail by someone he hardly knew, really rid him of his nightmare? “Do you really believe that, Doctor?” he asked.
    “I believe it completely, Jon,” he said sincerely. “I’ve seen some very quick results occur through the use of hypnotism, cutting through all the incidentals of the problem right to its core. I also believe as an aspiring author—a creative person—you will be amazed at the hidden thoughts you’ll pour out when you’re ‘under.’ “
    “Can I be hypnotized?” Jon asked, his curiosity slowly awakening despite his nagging doubts.
    “We’ll find out when we try, and that could be at our next session, if you’re willing. I believe, for now, you can rest assured with the knowledge that I am medically and psychiatrically conservative and will not at any time put you in danger.” He smiled reassuringly. “I’d like to add