The Dangerous Doors of Shannon Anderson

Chapter Twenty Two

When Dad had said "we'll talk in the morning", what he really meant was, "I'll call the psychiatrist's office before you wake up, drag you out of bed, shepherd you into the car, and drive you there before you're awake enough to protest."

I'd stayed with Fritz for hours the night before. He built a campfire down on a secluded bit of shore, and listened while I lamented how unreasonable my pirate captors could be, explaining that they were still mad at me for having vanished during the hurricane and didn't believe me when I told them I hadn't been able to find my way back to the ship through the storm.

"If you should ever want me to have a firm word with them," Fritz said, patting the knife that hung from his belt, "you know how to find me."

I smiled and leaned my head on his shoulder. "That's sweet, but I'm not sure that you'd be able to...um...get on board the ship." I'd never thought about it before; would Fritz be able to crawl through the door to my world, if he tried? Would Dad believe me then, if I introduced him to Fritz, or would he just think I'd been kidnapped by a historical actor with a weird accent who really liked guns?

"One day, my dear Shannon, you will see," Fritz said. "You belong on this island with us. After all you have suffered with those sea dogs, you deserve to reap the fruits of my family's labor. One day, you will leave that filthy ship behind. You will come ashore, whistle for me, and never turn back."

I closed my eyes and breathed in the warm salty air.

I had fallen asleep there on the beach next to Fritz, only to be woken by the first rays of sunshine beaming over the calm turquoise water. I got up slowly so as not to disturb Fritz as he snored beside me, and dashed back to my door, praying that it wasn't too late in the morning in Iowa. I collapsed into my bed the second I made it back, but it felt like I'd only been asleep for ten minutes when Dad came knocking, saying we were leaving for the doctor in twenty minutes.

So now here I was, groggy and grumpy in the serene waiting room of the therapist's office. There was a softly bubbling fountain against one wall - a giant slate slab that had water trickling down its surface from the top. There were real live plants on every table and in every corner. It was almost like being back in the jungles of New Switzerland, except for the soft jazz that was playing from the speakers in the ceiling. I helped myself to some tea from the selection that was laid out across from the fountain, hoping I might perk up a little, but not caring much if I didn't. I didn't say anything to Dad as I sat back down, dipping my tea bag in and out of the little styrofoam cup full of hot water.

"Shannon?" A thin, middle-aged woman with a clipboard appeared in the doorway to the main office. I stood up and she smiled. "Dr. Rowe," she said by way of introduction, leading me to a room with a big couch, tall windows, and even more plants. It reminded me of Dr. Van Helsing's study a little bit. "Oh, good, I see you've helped yourself to some tea. Please, have a seat on the sofa there and we'll get started."

I sat.

"So, Shannon, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself? Who you are, what you like to do, why you're here. I want to get to know you."