Insomvita. Oleksandr Dan

personality disorder known to him, comparing them with this unclear condition of his new patient.

      After a long silence, the doctor sighed, crossed his arms over his chest and said: “You know, Robert, your condition, even considering your fantasies about night journeys in your dreams, raises no concerns for me. This all falls within the generally accepted standards of psychological deviance. Here’s what does concern me though…” The doctor paused, looking intently at Robert. “Your suicidal thoughts, I believe, are the result of depression, but you seem to be coping with that on your own. And that’s a very good decision, because staying in depression passively is like sitting on the bank of a river waiting for the body of your enemy to float by. I am happy that you are not waiting, but instead trying to find a way out. Seek ways and analyze.”

      “You’ve got it a bit wrong, doctor. I have suicidal thoughts not because I don’t see a way out, and they are not the result of some depression. I am fully content with my life here, beyond the dream. I have a good job, successful career, and a woman I love. But…” Robert sighed deeply. “Sometimes all of this does not seem real to me. I’ve thought a lot about it, comparing this world and that one. What if all this is just somebody’s dream? What if you and I and this entire world is just my dream, my imagination, and nothing more? In that case, suicide seems to be a radical way to solve the problem. Do you understand?”

      “So, you believe that by killing yourself in this life, you will simply wake up in the other, like in a dream? Right?” the doctor asked. “If that is so, and if we are, as you believe, in a dream right now, what will stop you from coming back here the next time? It’s just a dream, after all. And if we were to assume that you are right and this world is your dream, how can you be sure that you haven’t killed yourself before in this life, which you’ve just called a dream?”

      “That is only my assumption. As for a suicide, I would probably remember it. I do remember everything that happened to me yesterday, a month or several years ago. I remember everything, starting with my childhood."

      “Probably you would…” The doctor again looked at Robert and continued in a serious tone: “Let’s assume this world is your dream. So, what is to prevent the brain of the sleeping Trevor from simulating unrealistic details of your life, the ones you would see as given, undeniable facts, because here they are implanted in your memory. Do you understand the absurdity of the situation? By the way, how long have you had suicidal thoughts?”

      “Maybe five-six years. Right after I finally realized that I could not find a way out or understand the situation. I’ve often thought about it and I clearly remember when I was very close to taking that last step, but I’ve never been able to go through with it.”

      Robert fell silent. The doctor continued to stare at him, thinking about something. A silence fell upon the room. There was a mix of doubt and interest in the doctor’s eyes.

      “Well, dear," he said at last. "I will take on your case. Tomorrow’s a day off, so we will have a session at my home office. Drug therapy won’t work here. We will dig into your brain, into your consciousness. We will start from the beginning. We do use clinical hypnosis as a form of psychotherapy, as your Amanda said, but first I will ask you to remember some more details and share them with me. I will be expecting you tomorrow at this address."

      The doctor wrote his home address neatly on his business card, which was atypical for members of his profession, and handed it to Robert.

      “I will not keep you in suspense. I’m expecting you tomorrow at 10 am. And pass on the warmest greetings to Amanda for me.”

      The doctor escorted Robert to the exit, but at the door he suddenly looked into his eyes and said in a cold voice: “I don’t believe you, my dear. I don’t believe a word you’ve said for a second, and you will have to really try hard to prove otherwise. I am, however, intrigued, as your lie is totally implausible. In fact, so implausible that it could turn out to be true!”

      Chapter 5

24 December 2011. 03:23 Tatras

      Robert stood quietly over the abyss, listening to steady sound of the river. He watched the black streams break between the large boulders, which brought back to him fragments of his childhood and youth. The faces of people, his family, close friends or simply acquaintances appeared and disappeared in his head. Some were laughing, others were giving disapproving looks. Meanwhile, the water kept rushing, swirling and roaring, almost helplessness to overcome the flat, snow-covered stones that stood on its path to freedom.

      But Robert didn’t notice this. His mind was far away from the river and from this wintry place.

      Who is he? Trevor from his dreams, who became a part of his thoughts, memories and his body, it seemed, or Robert, who was closer and more distinct just a couple days ago, but no longer. In this moment, the memories blended and everything in his head raged and seethed like the waters at the base of the cliff. The memories of Trevor’s life and reality intertwined, throwing up and dragging back images and scenes from one and the other.

      Suddenly Robert’s mind took him back to the day when it first happened. Everything stopped, fell silent, and the memory of that years-old condition enveloped Robert in a warm and powerful feeling of something that had been long forgotten and nearly lost.

* * *

      …It was Christmas Eve. Children’s room. A big table in the middle with a small, decorated Christmas tree on top. Gold and silver tinsel drooped from its branches, while big cotton snowflakes filled the spaces in between. The tree shone with garlands of lights in many shapes and colors, creating fairy-like reflections that made the holiday even more magical.

      Under the tree were several oranges and a white papier-mâché Santa Claus holding a staff and a red sack full of gifts over his shoulder. Every year he appeared under a new Christmas tree, having been taken out of an old faded cardboard box, where he was stored together with the ornaments, garlands, faded yellow cotton and long tinsel made of multicolored tinfoil.

      The smell of the fresh spruce filled the room, with the scents of vanilla and fresh pastries breaking through from the kitchen.

      Robert did not understand why he had woken up. He was simply looking sleepily at the Christmas tree with its glittering lights. He could hear bells ringing, an accordion playing and Christmas carols being sung outside in the distance.

      Christmas celebrations were in full swing. People, dressed in the costumes of vertep[11], were performing the show in the middle of the snow-covered street. They were clad in leather, fur-lined jackets, girded with belts around their waists and crosswise on their chests, rough trousers tucked into felt boots and large and small iron bells attached to their belts. The bells chimed with many tones, timbre and duration as the players ran around or stomped their feet. Crude black masks with slits for eyes covered their faces; they wore black turbans with red ribbons and held curved wooden sticks or brooms. According to tradition, they were forbidden to speak; they only growled and barked like dogs, frightening passers-by and amusing children. Other participants in the nativity scene – carolers – were dressed in Hutsul folk costumes – keptars[12], sardaks[13] or goatskin kozhukhs[14]. They carried a long pole topped by a large star in front of them and sang traditional kolyadky[15].

      The shows were performed at nearly every door. Four deacons carried a model of the village church and a donation box from one household to the other. The families would listen to the carols and psalms, give gifts to carolers and make donations to the church.

      Joy and laughter abounded. Despite the cold, the accordionists played with bare hands, pressing the keys and buttons in time with the carolers. For three days the festivities would fade away near dawn only to start up again at dusk.

      It was dark on the streets of Harsfolvo, a little village on the outskirts of the resort town of Solva, stranded between the mountains where Robert’s family lived. But thanks to the abundant snow that fell just before the New Year’s and bright light of the stars, the world looked magical.

      The

11

Vertep (ukr) – nativity play.

12

Keptar (ukr) – decorated sheepskin vest.

13

Sardak (ukr) – upper short dress with sleeves.

14

Kozhukh (ukr) – traditional fur coat.

15

Kolyadky (ukr) – Christmas carols.