A Vision of Fire

That seemed to bring Maanik down and Caitlin didn’t want that. She also didn’t know how much time they might have, whether this period of lucidity would last for an instant or endure. “Hey, are you up for a few questions? I have so many.”

“I’ll try to answer them,” Maanik said. “I’m a little confused.”

“Totally understandable. Me too.” Caitlin pulled the desk chair to the side of the bed and sat. “Let’s try this for starters. Do you remember what happens during your episodes?”

Maanik sat up, preparing to speak. “I remember nothing. I know about the screaming and scratching because my parents tell me. Oh, and” — she held up her right arm — “because I’m wrapped like the Mummy.”

Caitlin laughed. “So you don’t remember doing that.”

“Not at all.”

“Or speaking?”

“Speaking?”

“Not the way we’re talking now,” Caitlin said. “More like — acting.”

“No.”

Caitlin didn’t see the benefit of complicating Maanik’s grasp of the situation by mentioning other languages.

“You’re usually awake when the episodes begin,” she said. “What does it feel like when you—”

“Start to lose my shit?” Maanik cut in, eyeballing the door to make sure her mother couldn’t hear.

“You’re not wrong about that,” said Caitlin, enjoying the girl’s spunk.

Maanik looked away and continued patting the dog, whose eyes were shut. “It’s weird. I just, kind of… go away.”

“Go away how? Do you mean like falling asleep?”

“Not exactly.”

“Do you feel dizziness or do you sense anything different, visually or with any of your senses?”

“Well…” Maanik frowned in concentration. “It’s like I disappear. No, that’s not right. It’s like first I am in pieces, small pieces, and then I disappear.”

“I’m not sure I follow. Small pieces?”

“My ears are listening, my fingers are feeling, my nose is smelling, my eyes are looking, but they are not connected. It’s sort of like every part of me is candles stuck in a cake.”

“I like that description.” Caitlin smiled. “Go on.”

The girl suddenly grew solemn.

“Maanik?”

She was looking at Jack London. “Candles.”

“What about them?”

“Flickering.” She rolled the dog over with her left hand and rubbed his belly. He snorted in his sleep.

“What is it?” Caitlin pressed her. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Maanik said. “I just felt this sadness.”

Caitlin reached out and held the girl’s hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Maanik didn’t answer. The silence that settled on the room reminded Caitlin of the quiet in the hallway, unfriendly and oppressive.

“Maanik — can you hear me?”

The girl was staring at the dog.

“Are you worried about Jack London?”

She didn’t answer. Tears were now dropping onto the bedsheet. They were tears of sadness, great mourning. She turned away.

“Maanik?”

“My arm,” she said in a low monotone.

Caitlin leaned in a little closer. She was trying to look into Maanik’s face, to get the girl to see her. “What about your arm?”

“My left arm,” Maanik said. “It’s gone.”

“That’s not true. You’re petting Jack London with it. Your arm is fine.”

“No.”

Caitlin let her pause, sensing that something else was coming.

“My arm is bloody and ripped off and a terrible mess.” She began to squirm a little. “The animal… is dead.”

“Maanik, listen. What you’re seeing is not real.”

Maanik didn’t seem to hear. “I am disappearing, like pieces of paper in a fire.”

“That’s a dream,” Caitlin insisted quietly. She shifted onto the bed and put her arms around the girl. “You’re right here, in your apartment, in your room, with me.”

“No. It’s happening right now. Help me!”

“What’s happening?”

Maanik’s mind seemed to be searching for the right word. “The end,” she sobbed. “It is the end.”

CHAPTER 20

From the corner of her eye Caitlin saw Mrs. Pawar appear in the doorway. Caitlin put up a hand to stop her from coming in.

Maanik’s arms started to rise and words spilled from the girl’s lips — not English, not Hindi. But Caitlin thought she could still see some of Maanik left in her eyes. They were pleading with her. Jack London leaped from the bed and began spinning and barking.

The girl was no longer capable of answering questions and Caitlin did not want to lose her again. Reaching out, she touched Maanik’s left ear and said, “Blackberries.”

Like strings had been cut, Maanik went limp. Her eyes closed and she relaxed into sleep. Freed from whatever thrall he had been in, Jack London sat on his haunches and howled.

Caitlin heard Mrs. Pawar breathing heavily in the doorway.

“What just happened?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Caitlin replied. “Maanik woke, seemed all right, and then relapsed. Please, you’ve got to promise you won’t do anything to the dog.”

“Why? What has he got to do with this?”

“I don’t know,” Caitlin said, “but I am becoming certain that he’s important. Please?”

Mrs. Pawar nodded tightly.

Caitlin crossed the room unsteadily. There was a wave of guilt: had she done something to send Maanik drifting away? Had she crowded her? Had her proximity triggered a panic attack?