"I miss mommy. I think she's mad at me," Timmy confessed sadly.

"Sweetheart, why do you think your mommy's mad at you?" Viki put her arm around Timmy and hugged him to her.

"She left me all alone and she never comes to see me. She's mad because I make daddy hurt her." Two large tears trickled down Timmy's cheeks.

Sam sat down next to him and said, "Timmy, I know your daddy and if he hurts your mommy it's because he wants to, not because of anything you did. Your mommy knows how much you love her and she would be here if she could, but she's very far away and that's why she can't come to see you."

*************************************************************************************************************

Tom was excited about going to Susannah's office. He had not been out of the hospital room yet and he was curious as to what the rest of the hospital looked like. Tom liked spending time with Susannah. Doctor Hanen's real nice, like my mom, Tom thought to himself.

"Wow! You've got a computer. Todd has computers at his house and where he works. Sometimes I can play with them. Can I play with your computer sometime?" Tom asked, when he had a chance to look around Susannah's office.

"Sure you can, but I thought first you might be able to draw a picture for me. Would you like to do that?" Susannah asked.

"Okay," Tom answered, smiling brightly, then added, "It don't matter that this hand's all busted." He held up his bandaged right hand. "I draw better with this one anyway." He held up his left hand.

So Tom is left handed, Susannah thought to herself. Susannah set some crayons, markers and paper on the coffee table in her office.

Sitting down on the floor in front of the table, Tom asked, "What do you want me to draw?"

"Tom, you know, sometimes it's a lot easier to draw a picture of something you want to tell someone, then it is to say it in words. Drawing something that is secret is not the same as telling. Why don't you draw a picture of a secret for me."

Susannah sat quietly and doodled herself, to keep Tom from feeling self-conscious while he drew the picture. She noticed that he was starting to tremble. She stood up from her side of the table and walked to where he sat.

Kneeling down, she put her arm around his shoulder and said, "It's okay. Can I see the picture?"

Susannah saw a picture of a little boy in the center of the page and all around him were these hands. Hands holding a belt, hands holding a cigarette lighter, a cigarette, a necktie, hands on a faucet, on a hook and hands with a flame coming out of them.

"Does the picture you drew upset you?" Susannah asked. Tom shrugged his shoulders. "It looks like someone is hurting the little boy," Susannah stated. Tom nodded. "How does the little boy in the picture feel?" Susannah gently pushed.

"He's real scared and he wants to run away."

"Why doesn't he run away?" Susannah continued to question him.

"He has to stay and take his punishment. It'll get a whole lot worse if he tries to run away." Tom looked up at Susannah when he said this. His eyes were huge and frightened.

Susannah rubbed his back, tenderly. "Who do the hands belong to? Can you tell me?"

Tom shook his head and said, "They're only hands, not a person, just hands."

"Honey, hands have to belong to someone."

He shook his head again and said, "No, just hands."

Suddenly, Tom pushed the picture off the table and cried out, "I'm scared. I want to go back to my room. I don't want to see it anymore." He was becoming very agitated.

Susannah picked the picture up. She stroked Tom's head. "Why don't we go sit on the couch for a few minutes. It will be all right. Nothing will hurt you. I promise."

When they were settled on the couch Susannah said, "Tom I want you to lay down and close your eyes and try to relax. I just want you to listen to my voice . . ." Tom listened to Susannah's soothing voice. His body slowly started to relax. He started to feel like he was floating. Within a few minutes Tom was hypnotized.

"Tom, can you hear me? It's Doctor Hanen. You're in my office and you're very safe, there is nothing to be afraid of." Tom nodded.

Susannah sat on the couch next to him and held his hand and asked, "Can you feel me holding your hand?" Tom nodded again.

"Tom, I want you to tell me what happened to the boy in your picture and know it is not happening now. You'll remember that you are in my office and you are safe. The things you remember are just a memory and are not happening now. I want you to tell me about the picture you just drew. Tell me what the hands do with each of the things they're holding," Susannah gently coaxed.

Tom was still calm as he began to speak. "They punish the little boy because he's bad. The hands have to. The little boy makes them punish him."

"What do the hands do with the necktie?" Susannah asked.

"They tie the little boy's hands together so he doesn't move. Sometimes they tie his feet together and sometimes they stuff 'em in his mouth so he can't make noise. But he doesn't move anyway or make noise anyway because that makes it hurt more. It makes the hands madder at him."

"What do the hands do with the cigarette?"

"They tell the little boy how many times they're gonna burn him and if he's bad and moves or makes any noise or cries, he gets burned extra times," Tom answered, fighting to hold back tears.

Susannah saw he was beginning to tremble again. She covered him tightly with the blanket she kept on back of the couch. Susannah continued.

"And with the faucet? Tom, what do they do with the faucet?"

"They turn on the hot water and the little boy has to hold his hand under it. If he pulls his hand away too soon, the hands get even madder at him, and then he has to get burned on the stove too. If he gets burned on the stove first and pulls his hand away too soon, then he has to hold it under the hot water. If he's real bad, he has to get burned on both anyway. He has to be quiet. Sometimes he forgets to be quiet or it hurts so much that he makes noise. Then he has to be punished extra. He doesn't wanna be a bad boy. He doesn't know how to be good. Everything he does is bad. That's why his mom doesn't help him. She knows he's bad too and she has to let the hands hurt him."

Susannah felt tears sting her eyes. "Did someone tell the little boy that about his mother?" Susannah continued her questions.

"His mom said she loved him, but she let him get hurt and she went away. He must be a really, really bad boy. He got his mom hurt too . . . I'm scared! I'm scared!" Tom suddenly cried out.

Susannah could feel him trembling even more than before. "Honey, the picture can't hurt you. You're safe now. You're not in your old house. You're in my office. Tom, I want you to take some deep breaths." He was so tense that breathing became difficult. Susannah was able to get him into a relaxed state once again and he started to calm down.

"Tom, let's try to see who the hands belong to. Can you see the face that belongs to the hands?" Tom shook his head. "Let's look together," Susannah suggested, holding his hand tighter. "Can you see the upper arm?" Tom nodded. "Can you see the shoulders?" Susannah could feel Tom's pulse race as he nodded again. "Okay, now were going to look up and see his face. Can you see his face?"

Tom turned over on his side and covered his head with his hands and cried, "No! No! No! I don't want to look. Don't make me look. He'll hurt me! He'll hurt me! Why won't my mom help me?"

Susannah put her hand on his shoulder. "Tom, I want you to take a deep breath and relax. You're in Doctor Hanen's office, remember? You're safe here. The hands can't hurt you. Tom take a deep breath." He was calmer again in a minute.

"Tom, can I talk to Todd? Would that be all right?" Susannah asked.

"Are you mad at me?" The tears that formed behind his closed eyes trickled down his cheeks.

"No, honey, why do you think I'm mad at you?"

"Because you want me to go away. Did I do something bad?"

"Tom, I just wanted you to go inside and rest for a while. I thought you might be tired. Are you tired, honey?" Tom nodded.

"Do you want to rest?"

Tom nodded again and timidly asked, "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

"No, I promise. I'm not mad at you," Susannah assured him. She held his hand in both of hers and rubbed it.

"Would you like to go inside and rest now? Would you like Todd to come out so you can sleep?" Susannah pressed.

Tom was quiet. After about a minute he spoke up. "Todd's hiding."

"Can you see where he's hiding?" Susannah inquired. Tom shook his head.

"Well, Todd, if you can hear me, I wish you'd come out and talk with me. I promise, there is nothing to be afraid of. No one will hurt you. Todd, it's Doctor Hanen. Can you let Tom know where you are so he can find you and help you to come out?"

Even with his eyes closed and in a trance, Susannah could see the physical difference between Tom and Todd. He suddenly seemed to reach his full height and his body and his facial expressions where much more tense than Tom's had been.

"Todd, it's Doctor Hanen. Can you hear me?"

"I feel really weird, like I'm dreaming," Todd said slowly.

"You're safe Todd. You're in my office. I want you to take a deep breath and relax. He did as he was asked.

"Todd, I want you to tell me about your mother. What do you remember about your mother?"

Susannah could see he was remembering something. "Say it Todd, tell me what you're thinking."

"She was beautiful. She was soft spoken. It was like she moved in a whisper. She had beautiful hair. She would let me brush it sometimes. She would . . . "

As Todd's voice trailed off Susannah could see he was remembering something he didn't want to remember. "She would what? Todd, what are you remembering?"

"The hairbrush, he grabbed it out of my hand," Todd answered.

"Who grabbed it?"

"M-My father. H-H-He's standing there. He seems so tall. He's standing there with the hairbrush in his hand looking down at us."

"What does he do? Does he do something with the hairbrush?" Susannah prodded his memory. "It's all right to say it. Todd, tell me what you're seeing."

"He's hitting her with it. He's hitting her across the face. He has her by the hair and he's hitting her across the face. He's yelling at her. He's saying 'Are you trying to turn him into more of a wimp than he already is?' I want him to stop. It's my fault. She's getting hit because of me. I want to stop him. He's hurting her! He's hurting her! I tried, I . . ." Todd's voice trailed off again.

Susannah rubbed his shoulder. "It's okay Todd. It's not happening now. Now you're safe. You're right here in my office and you're very safe." Susannah helped him to relax the way she had done with Tom.

Susannah stared her questions again. "What did you do? How did you try to stop him from hurting your mom?"

"I grabbed his leg. I tried to pull him off of her. He was so mad he didn't even feel it at first. Then when he realized I was tugging on his leg, he lifted me up by my arm and threw me against the wall. I tried to get up but I felt funny, dizzy. He kept hitting her. She was crying out for him to stop. I knew she should keep quiet. I knew if she kept screaming he would just get madder. I wanted to say 'Mama, stop, don't yell,' but I didn't. I just sat there and let him hit her. He started to rip her dress and she started to scream, 'Peter no! Don't! Peter, the boy.' Then he stopped. He threw her down on the floor and walked out of the room."

Tears were falling down Todd's cheeks. "How old were you, Todd?" Susannah asked tenderly.

"Five," Todd answered and then started sobbing loudly. "I let him hit her. He hit her because of me and I didn't stop him."

Susannah held his hand. "Todd you were only five years old, just a little boy. How could you have possibly stopped a grown man from doing anything?"

"I don't know, but I should have done something. She was my mother. I should have protected her. Maybe then she wouldn't have . . ." Todd did not finish his thought.

"Wouldn't have what? Todd continued to cry softly. "What wouldn't your mother have done Todd? It's okay to say it out loud. "

Todd's lower lip and chin were trembling. "She wouldn't have left me. She wouldn't have gone away and never come back."

"Todd, it was your mother's job to protect you, not the other way around. You're so angry with yourself for not keeping her from getting hurt. Aren't you even a little angry with her for not keeping you from getting hurt?''

"No! No! I've never been angry at her. She was my mother. She loved me more than anyone else in the whole word. She's the only person besides Starr that I've never been angry at."

"Not even when you were being hurt, not even then? You weren't angry with her then?" Susannah persisted.

"I didn't get hurt, not really. She's the one. She got hurt."

"Todd, you told me yourself that your father hit you. You just told me he threw you against a wall. Your mother didn't stop him. Even before she left she didn't stop him. How did that make you feel? Did it make you angry?"

Todd was shaking his head violently from side to side. "No! No! No! Stop it! I've never been angry at my mother. I love her!"

"What about the other times she let you get hurt? Did she ever try to stop your father from hurting you?" Susannah continued to push.

"She loved me. She told me how much she loved me. She said she was proud of me. That I was a good boy. She would hug me and hold me. She loved me," Todd insisted, as more tears fell down his cheeks.

"Todd, didn't you expect her to save you, every time your father hurt you? Didn't you expect your mother to come save you?" Susannah wasn't sure how much further she could push him.

"I didn't get hurt that much. There was nothing to save me from." Even under hypnosis, Todd was still not able to face the truth.

Susannah tried again. "You told me your father hit you, Todd."

"Sometimes, he . . . I was bad I had to be disciplined."

"How did he disciplined you? What were the things he did?"

Todd's hands were clenched into fists. "He'd yell at me. He would hit me with his belt. He would . . . I can't breath, it hurts! It hurts!" Todd cried out. His face and voice were filled with panic and pain. Susannah noticed his respiration's were rapid. She checked his pulse; it was one hundred and twenty-five. She knew he had enough for now and she had to wake him up.

"Todd, it's all right. You're in my office and you're safe. You're not in your old house now. Your father is not here. I want you to relax. I want you to feel very calm and relaxed. I want you to take a deep breath."

It took a few tries, but finally he did as he Susannah instructed. "That's good, that's very good, now another," Susannah said soothingly.

"Todd, when I wake you up, you'll feel calm and relaxed and remember what ever is safe to remember. Okay, I'm going to wake you up now. I'm going to count backwards from three. When I say three you will start to wake up, on two, you will open your eyes and on one you'll wake up. You'll feel very calm and relaxed. Here we go. Three," Susannah could see some of the tension leave his face and body, "two," his eyes opened, but did not focus, "one," Susannah snapped her fingers.

Confused, Todd looked around. He wasn't frightened but he wondered what had just happened to him.

"Hi, how do you feel?" Susannah studied him intently.

"I don't know. Funny, weird," Todd sat up.

"What do you remember?"

"I was calling for my mother. I wanted my mother," Todd answered in a confused tone.

"Can you remember why you were calling your mother? Why you wanted her?"

Susannah wondered how much of the memory, recovered under hypnosis, Todd would be able to recall. "No! I don't want to talk about my mother." Todd got up from the couch and went to look at the calendar on Susannah's desk.

"I was with Viki and Sam. The last thing I remember was being with Viki and Sam," Todd declared, becoming upset when he saw the date."

"Yes, that was several days ago," Susannah gently informed him.

"I went away in front of them didn't I?"

"Todd, they understand. They know you can't help it," Susannah said, trying to comfort him.

"I want you to tell Viki something for me, in case I'm not around when she comes to see me."

"All right, what do you want me to tell her?" Susannah agreed.

"I don't ever want Tea or Starr to come visit me. I don't want them anywhere near me, ever! Tell Viki to tell Tea that and to tell Blair to keep Starr away from me," Todd was adamant.

Susannah took a deep breath. "Todd, I'm sure they both miss you. Maybe when you're feeling a little better you'll change your mind."

"No! I don't want them near me. Will you tell Viki for me?" Todd asked, with little emotion in his voice.

"Yes, of course I will." Susannah didn't want to push him but she could tell his depression was increasing. She knew he needed to see some light at the end of the tunnel.

Unfortunately, at this time, Susannah did not have much "light" to offer him.

"Todd, you said you remembered wanting your mother. That you were calling for your mother," Susannah stated.

"Yeah . . . I don't . . . I don't know. It was like a dream."

"You were nine years old when your mother left, right?"

"Yeah, so," Todd did not like the direction this was headed in.

"Do you remember the day she left?"

Todd hesitated a minute and then answered, "Yeah, I remember most of it."

"Tell me about it," Susannah requested.

Todd stared off into space as he spoke in a detached manner. "I came home from school and she was gone. The end."

"How did you know she was gone?" Susannah prodded.

"There was a note. We were supposed to go to the library. I came home and found a note," Todd said coldly.

"What did the note say?"

"That she couldn't take it anymore and that she was marrying someone else and that she would always love me," Todd answered, with no more feeling than if he had been reading a grocery list.

"How did you feel at the moment you were reading that note? What was the first thing you felt?"

"I didn't feel anything. Okay, I don't want to talk about this anymore," Todd announced. He picked up a paperweight that was on Susannah's desk and looked at it.

"Todd, you were just nine years old and your mother had just left you alone with your father. She left to marry someone else. You must have felt something," Susannah persisted.

"You're confusing me," Todd said and then just stood there, staring at the paperweight. Susannah was just about to ask a different question when Todd admitted, "Frightened, I felt frightened," Todd put down the paperweight. "I wondered what I did to make her leave. I knew it had to be really bad or she wouldn't have left me."

"She left your father. He was the one who abused her," Susannah pointed out.

"No. I did something bad. She wouldn't have left me behind if I didn't do something bad. You know, I knew why she wanted to go. I wanted her someplace safe. I wanted her to be happy. I just wish she could have taken me with her," Todd said, sadly.

"What about before she left? She had a drinking problem, didn't she?"

Susannah noticed that Todd had his arms wrapped tightly around his torso, as if he was trying to hold himself together. Susannah wasn't sure how much further she could take him today. She was already surprised at how long he was staying "Todd."

"She drank, you don't have to make her out to be an alcoholic or something," Todd answered.

Susannah noticed how he was defending his mother, how he didn't want her to "look bad."

"When would she drink? What time of day?"

"At night mostly."

"After your dad got home?"

"Yeah," Todd responded.

"Did she drink enough to pass out?"

"I don't . . . I don't remember . . . I . . . yeah, I guess so. So what! So maybe she needed to drink to get away from my dad. Maybe it was the only way she could get it not to hurt."

"What about you?" Susannah pressed.

"What about me?" Todd asked, angrily. Todd really hated this.

"How were you supposed to get away from your dad? How were you supposed to get it not to hurt? Even before she left, she wasn't there for you, was she?" Susannah proclaimed.

"She tried. She was my mom. She loved me. She loved me!" Todd answered, emotion flooding his voice.

"Todd, you love Starr, would you leave her alone with your father? Even when your mother was still there, would you leave her alone there at night? Even one night?" Susannah stated more than asked.

"No." Todd answered, in a voice barely above a whisper, then, speaking more to himself than to Susannah, Todd murmured, "She loved me. She . . . How could she do that to me? How could she go off and start a new life and leave me behind? How could she not fight for me? I fought for Starr. I did everything I could think of for Starr. I married Delgado for Starr. Why wasn't I worth it? What did I do? I was so scared when she left. I didn't want to be alone with him. I was afraid . . . I knew . . . I . . ."

Todd's breath was now coming in short gasps. "My head hurts a lot," he cried, holding his head between his injured and uninjured hands.

Susannah walked over to where Todd stood and gently put her arm around his shoulder and led him back to the couch. She knew he needed to dissociate. "It's all right Todd. You can let go. You've earned it. It's all right."

TO BE CONTINUED

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