The World Behind the Door Read Free Page B

women, Senor Dali—and every one of them, without exception, told me beforehand that their minds were too strong and that I would never be able to hypnotize them."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I will be different," said Dali.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "If you say so," replied Freud with no show of concern.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "When do you wish to try?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I am in town for two more days," said Freud. "When would it be convenient for you to come to my hotel room?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "As soon as I finish my cigarette," said Dali promptly. "We might as well get this over with, and then, when you cannot hypnotize me, we can discuss alternatives."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Very well," replied Freud. "And I shall expect your next painting to be dedicated to me."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "To quote an old saying, be careful what you wish for, Doctor Freud. You may get it."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I will cherish the knowledge that I helped unlock whatever you have kept bottled up inside you."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Dali finished his drink, waited until Freud had done the same, and put out his cigarette.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Shall we go?" he said, leaving some money on the table and getting to his feet.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Freud nodded, and stood up. "Follow me, Senor Dali," he said, leaving the bar and walking to elevator, which ascended to the fourth and highest level of the hotel. A moment later Freud led him to a door and unlocked it.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "A very elegant suite," commented Dali, looking around as he entered. "And a lovely view."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I must confess I haven't been here long enough to enjoy it. I arrived yesterday in mid-morning. Since then I have given five speeches, and attended both a testimonial dinner last night and a luncheon today." He sighed deeply. "It will be nice to get back home."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I will accept your being over-tired as an excuse," said Dali.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "An excuse?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "For not being able to hypnotize me," said Dali. "Where do you want me?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Where are you comfortable?" asked Freud.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Dali sat down on a plush chair. "Right here."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Then right there is where I want you," said Freud. "Shall we proceed?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "By all means," said Dali confidently.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  He was in a hypnotic trance in less than three minutes.
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    Chapter 3: Hunting for the Snark
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    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Dali spent the next eight days painting his dream.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  And he didn't like it.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  The problem, he decided, was that he was doing it from memory, and even with Freud's help he hadn't remembered his dream very well. Yes, there was a lion in it, but somehow it looked exactly like the lion in the zoo, and he was sure that it had seemed distinctive and unique in his dream, but he wasn't sure how it had differed from every other lion he'd ever seen.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  The same with the girl: she was young, maybe eighteen, and pretty, with dark brown hair and a slim figure. But he'd seen literally hundreds of pretty teenaged girls with dark hair and slim figures; try as he would, he couldn't bring the details to mind that made her different.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  The trees were blue. But they branched out exactly like the trees in the park, and their leaves were the same shape, just a different color. Ditto for their bark.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Details. He needed details, and they kept eluding him, slipping through the fingers of his memory. Even Freud hadn't been able to help him remember more.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Still, he was sure Freud was onto something, that all he had to do was find a way to unleash the genius he was sure was trapped inside him, trying to get out. He bought a copy of Freud's popular