Page 61 of Trapped

“And if I need to wake you—we’ll have a trigger phrase. ‘Cash, wake up now.’”

He kept his gaze focused on her. “You’re sure that will work?”

She kept her eyes steady as she looked back. “Yes. So—shall we go ahead?”

He dragged in a breath and let it out. “Yes.”

“Good. A convenient way to do it is to look up to the line where the ceiling meets the top of the wall. Why don’t you do that now?”

He took the suggestion, wondering what good it would do.

“Relax . . . now. Relax . . . now,” she said, her voice calm and soothing. “Across the room is a big television set. It’s one of those expensive flat screens. Sixty inches. It takes up a big part of the wall in this small cabin. You’re going to watch a movie about the life of Cash Baker. Do you see the screen?”

“Yes,” he answered, because he did. It seemed very wide and solid.

“You can see yourself on the television. You won’t be there, but you can watch what happened. You’re not involved. You’re only an observer. All right?”

“Yes.”

“You’re back in school. Eighth grade.”

“Okay.”

“You’re in the cafeteria. With your friends Roger and Kevin.”

“Yes.”

“It’s the day Jeff Bolton lost his retainer.”

He laughed. “He took off his retainer at lunch and wrapped it in his napkin. I can see him throwing it in the trash by accident. Now he’s digging through the garbage looking for it.”

“Does he find it?”

“Yeah. And he had to take a shower before they’d let him back into class.”

“Good. Let’s move forward. To the year after you graduated from high school. It’s six weeks into basic training. You’re still watching on TV. You’re not really there. Do you see yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Where is basic training?”

“Fort Benning.”

“And now you’re in the mess hall, getting breakfast.”

“Yes.”

“Who are your friends?”

“Costa and Stevenson.”

“So, you’re eating with them?”

“Yes.”

“Any time you want to stop watching yourself and come back to this place and time, just say, I want to come back. And you will.”

“Okay.”

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