“Please walk to the end of your chain.”
She had almost forgotten about the chain on her ankle, but did as he told her.
He attached the collar around her neck and activated it; He also placed handcuffs around her wrists before he unlocked the ankle clamp. She made no aggressive moves.
“Forgive me, but I’m going to demonstrate what this collar can do if you resist or try to escape.”
Cassie steeled herself.
The pain was brief, but excruciating, dropping her to her knees.
“I’m so sorry, but I wanted you to feel it so you don’t attempt anything. It will never happen again if you remain compliant.”
It took a few moments for her breathing to return to normal. Cassie put a hand to her throat and rubbed it as she stood. “It’s okay, I understand.”
Karonen’s face seemed to soften in recognition of what she said.
“All right. I’ll take you to her.” They turned left after they left the cell and followed the serpentine shaft. Cassie felt hopeless and curious. They encountered the opening to Karonen’s house where he pulled a lever and opened the door to the living room. When they were through the opening, he closed the fireplace surround, led her through another doorway and down a short hallway.
The freshly oiled hinges eased the opening of Methodist’s door. Karonen motioned Cassie inside. He followed close behind. The dim light forced Cassie to move haltingly toward the bed. She could discern a shape under the covers that moved up and down to the whirring sound of a ventilator. She could hear the oxygen forced into Methodist’s lungs and then released as the inexorable whirring rose and fell.
Cassie’s eyes adjusted to the dim light and she noticed an IV tube attached to Methodist’s left arm. She watched the slow drip, drip as it made it’s way through the tube and into the young woman’s arm.
Karonen encouraged her to move closer to Methodist. When Cassie did she was surprised to see the woman’s eyes were open and her pupils were twitching minutely from side to side. Cassie inhaled a deep breath and touched the young woman’s forehead with the back of her hand. As she did so, Methodist blinked. Startled, Cassie jerked her hand back.
Karonen leaned forward, eyes intense. “She moved, my god, she moved.”
Cassie stood speechless, moving her mouth, but no words emerged.
Karonen looked at Cassie. A broad smile stretched across his face and he said, “I knew it, I knew you would do it.” He squeezed Cassie’s shoulder and patted her lightly on the back.
Cassie recovered. “She moved her eyes when I touched her.”
Karonen removed the ventilator mask from Methodist’s face and turned the machine off.
Surprised, Cassie looked on. The woman continued breathing, although shallower and more labored.
“It’s all right,” he said to Cassie. “I’ve done this before. The ventilator only assists her. It makes her breathing easier.” He hung the tube around a hook on the IV stand and returned his gaze to Methodist. “Talk to her,” he said to Cassie.
“What do I say?”
“Tell her who you are, what you’ve done, where you’re from—everything you can think of. She’ll hear you, I’m sure of it.” He touched Methodist’s forearm near the IV.
Cassie spoke, telling Methodist everything about her life. The words flowed from her lips in strokes of bold sincerity. Karonen listened to her story, even more assured he had chosen the right person to awaken Methodist. His interest intensified when she mentioned a man she had arranged to meet at the North Star motel and help her find family members. She explained how he had disappeared before meeting with her.
Karonen noted the timeline and posited the man she described was the fisherman he had abducted and killed. The anguish he felt at that time returned and he ended the session with Methodist, explaining that she was tiring and needed to rest.
Cassie was disappointed in the interruption. Relieving herself of the pain in her life had been a cathartic experience, one that she had no idea would be so consoling. She said goodbye to Methodist and was escorted to her cell, where Karonen removed the shock collar and left.
Every morning following breakfast, during the next thirty days, Karonen attached the collar around Cassie’s neck and escorted her to Methodist’s bedside. Cassie talked about losing her parents and growing up in foster homes. She spoke of the depths of her pain because of her loss, and the void it continued to leave in her life. She spoke of the difficulty of finding any living relatives and the hopes she had of establishing family relationships. And every time she mentioned Tom Hecimovich, Karonen stirred.
Karonen stayed and listened to everything. At times, without showing it, he found himself weeping for Cassie, empathizing with her situation and hoping everything would end well for all three individuals present in that room.
At the beginning of Cassie’s second month in ‘therapy,’ a significant event took place.
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