The Craigslist Murders - Brenda Cullerton [63]
When Charlotte finally awoke, her abdomen hurt so much, she could hardly move. It was dawn. Shifting her body around beneath the sheets, she felt helpless and dirty. So dirty. The taste of vomit in her mouth nearly made her retch. She could feel the acid rise in her throat. There was still a pool of vomit in the hallway, too. She’d been too tired to even think of cleaning it up.
Closing her eyes, Charlotte imagined herself singing. She clung to the notes of this silent song as if they were a lifeline. An hour later, she picked up the phone and called Dr. Greene.
38
Like a blind person, Charlotte raised her hands to her own face and touched her features: her eyes, her nose, her cheeks. Her whole body jittered in her chair. Even her skin was clammy. Squeezing her knees tightly shut, she tried to stop the convulsive shaking. She started counting. One, two, three, four …
Dr. Greene sat across from his patient, waiting. When she realized that the pains in her stomach had subsided, she stopped shaking.
“Thank you for making time for me on a Sunday,” she mumbled.
“It sounded like an emergency, Charlotte. I imagine it wasn’t easy to call …”
“No,” Charlotte replied, crumpling her Kleenex. “It wasn’t. And I don’t know what to say right now.”
“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to. Sometimes, people just need to feel someone near them in times of crisis.”
“Ummmm,” she said, her hands gently kneading her stomach. She was scared stiff. Literally. Afraid that the twist in her gut would return and with it, the unbearable pain.
Dr. Greene remained still, waiting for his patient’s cue.
“Charlotte …”
“What’s the matter with me?” she cried out. “I haven’t thought of my sister in years. I didn’t even remember what she looked like till yesterday.”
Closing her eyes, Charlotte found herself, once again, peering over the edge of the white, wooden crib.
“She was screaming, Doctor. It just went on and on. Mother was out at a party. I don’t know where nanny was. I wanted to help, you know? I wanted to tell my mother that it was me who had quieted her down and put her back to sleep.”
Shifting imperceptibly in his chair, the doctor gently guided her. “What did it feel like to be with your sister? Do you remember?”
“I was never allowed to have pets at home,” Charlotte replied. “So I remember how weird it felt, having something so tiny, wriggling around in my arms. And her head. Her head was so small, my hand fit right over it.”
“Were you nervous?” Dr. Greene asked.
Charlotte’s teeth began to chatter. “I’m so cold, Doctor.”
“It’s normal, Charlotte. You’re not just talking here, you’re feeling something.”
Her eyes began to wander wildly around the room and she rocked back and forth in her chair.
“I, I …” she faltered. “I thought the bear would comfort her, you see? The way he always comforted me. So I lay her down on her stomach and went into my room to get him. She must have quieted down. Because I left the bear in the crib and went to sleep. I wouldn’t have gone to sleep if she were still crying.”
“Charlotte, please forgive me. I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready …”
“No, I can talk, Doctor. I …”
“So what happened in the morning?”
Charlotte’s lips quivered.
“I was frightened,” she answered. “I mean, my father was in my sister’s room. Which was unusual. And he was talking very softly. So I couldn’t hear what he was saying. But he was pulling my mother away from the crib.”
Charlotte’s voice suddenly grew deep, harsh. She moved to the edge of her chair.
“Nanny was over at the window. When my father left the room, probably to call an ambulance or something, I started to cry.”
Charlotte’s knee began to bounce up and down as her eyes darted around the office. “My mother … My mother saw me. ‘What happened,