SPARK OF SUSPISION

SPARK OF SUSPISION

Wrestling with the covers she sat up, opened her eyes, and stared at the vast landscape on the painting above her dresser. Focusing on the water in the stream at the base of the forest- covered mountains, her thoughts began recreating her nightmare and she thrust her fist into James’s shoulder before kicking him out of bed.

“Who are you with when you are not at home?” she screamed.

“What! What did you say?”

“Who are you with when you are not at home?”

“Who am I with? I am not WITH anyone. Damn that hurt! Why did you kick me out of bed?”

Infidelity had illuminated her dream, and she stared him down demanding an answer. James scooted away from the bed and shimmied his way up the wall.

“I am at work making a living for our family surrounded by bosses, co-workers, and assistants. I’m not with anyone.”

James attempted to extinguish the spark of suspicion as instructed by their therapist, but he could tell that this nightmare was no spark. He frantically backed away from her demonic gaze for fear she would rip through his weakness with an army of fury.

“James, tell me who she is so I can rip her face off.”

James erratically flipped the light switch on and off, casting the room into a strobe-like effect to avert her attention. Without a second glance, he turned on his heel and headed out of the bedroom.

“Where are you going?”

Without facing her he controlled his anger and spoke slowly.

“I am going to the kitchen to make coffee. Can I bring you a cup?” Marietta buried her face in the mattress with a scream.

“No, I don’t want you to bring me anything except an explanation as to why I am dreaming about you fooling around on me?” she began to cry.

James questioned his own sanity as he turned and went back to her. He held her for as long as she would allow. She needed more but a hug was all he had at 5am.

“Marietta, tell me about your dream.”

“Nightmare James not a dream.” She covered her face with shaky hands and screamed into her pillow.

“Marietta, you are safe. Tell me who was in your nightmare.”

“The woods.”

James shifted his attention to the painting on the wall. The painting captures an overhead view, where a winding railroad track snakes its way down a majestic mountainside. The scene, dominated by a lush forest, shows the sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the tracks below. Is the painting triggering her?

“I am in the woods. See moving shadows. Hear whispers over the rustle of leaves. My bare feet feel the heat. The moon barely lights the path through the wilderness of trees. Then I saw it. White eyes of unseen creatures reflecting off the pale moonlight. More whispers. So many whispers. But they sound like loving words, so I follow the moonlight path when a monstrous silhouette emerges. Its eyes burn with a fiery rage, and it’s poised to strike at me. My hands clenched to fight back but I’m so terrified I can’t move and gasping for air. Then another haunting whisper blows in my ear saying, “you are but a wandering soul.”

“Huh that’s quite a nightmare. Scares me to hear it.” Gazing upon her twisted expression he wondered if the generational curse of mental illness from her family had raised its ugly head. Schizophrenia? Could this be what it looks like? Lord please no. He quickly erased that thought and silently whispered.

“No weapon that is formed against you shall prosper, and every tongue that rises against you in judgment you shall condemn, Amen.”

“Marietta, what made you kick me out of the bed?”

“I tried to scream but no sound came out. A brilliant light unearthed beneath my feet then I am floating above the ground watching you lie there with someone and then it chases me.”

“So that’s the reason you hit me? I was in your dream lying on the ground. With someone who’s most likely you!”

“The light or the lost soul, I do not know. In real life when I am moving about our house, I see it peeking around corners. When I go into the back yard, I see it hiding behind the tree. I can see just a shadow. But when I try to approach, it disappears. I know you think I am crazy; hell, I think I am going crazy myself. Why do dreams seem so real?”

“What disappears?”

“The man, the ghost, the monster, the shadow of the lost soul? It follows me.”

“The voice said you were the lost soul. But what about the light?”

Marietta pushes James away and panic sets as she reaches under the bed grabbing a baseball bat and holding it over her head.

“Get away from me now!”

“Put that bat down. Get a hold of yourself. Look at my face,” James screams holding his arms out for protection. Marietta squints at James suspiciously stepping closer. James stands taller and speaks in a commanding voice.

“The sheets are empty, there’s no shadowy figure, and we are truly alone in this bedroom.”

He stares into her brown eyes and repeats.

“The sheets are empty, I do not see a shadowy figure, and we are truly alone in this bedroom. No one following you. This is a dream and not real. In real life I am the only man here and I am your husband, and I love you. Put the bat down.”

Marietta drops to her knees shaking and crying uncontrollably. When she curls up in a fetal position James removes the bat from her hands and hurls it to the other side of the room.

“It must not be real life, or it would not just disappear like that. He was there, James, on top of you just now. Just like that time I came to you with the butcher’s knife.”

“On top of me?”

“Yes, that monster! The shadow, or lost soul. I am really going insane, aren’t I?”

James looks up and whispers to the Lord.

“I am talking to two different people within one woman, minute by minute. Please help me.”

Marietta’s panic began to subside and gradually settled into a calmer state of mind.

“I’m going to get us both a cup of coffee and meet you on the couch, Marietta.”

The dimly lit living room was still in disarray, with books and papers scattered around, marking the new regimen assigned by the court. Between Dr. Joeby’s counseling sessions and the Wednesday night Bible study, the couple worked together to complete the required hours. James found each lesson soothing for his soul, but Marietta found no such peace. The endless reading and study sessions wore on her spirit, her once warm demeanor now a distant memory. Instead, she experienced erratic mood swings that gnawed at her, intensifying to the point where her behavior became dangerously unpredictable.

On nights when her frustrations erupted like a dormant volcano, James barely slept, haunted by the memory of waking to find the cold edge of a knife inches from his face. His anxious mind refused to settle. She had stood over him, eyes wild, with a silent accusation that shook him to his core. He wanted to blame the pills—those small white ovals prescribed by Dr. Joby—but when Marietta confessed, she wasn’t taking them, it became clear there was no one to blame but herself. The unsettling truth became the chilling reality of their situation.

"I’m not putting up with mind-altering drugs," she had insisted, her voice fragile but unyielding.

"My mind is already a tangled mess without the help of a psychotic pill."

James felt as though he was tiptoeing through a minefield, each book, each session, each unmedicated evening, a potential trigger. He prayed for a solution that would soothe Marietta’s turmoil as the scriptures had soothed his own. Yet, in the quiet moments between them, he feared the gap between their worlds was growing too fast to bridge, leaving them stranded on opposing shores.

“Marrietta, what was it in your dream that made you want to kick me out of the bed?”

“My dreams are real intuition. But when I tell the Professor he tries to change my mind telling me that my nightmares reflect unsolved emotional trauma. He told me not to keep that bat under the bed. What does he know? I need protection!”

“Marietta, dreams are an imagination gone wild. I think Dr. Joeby would agree that you do not need protection in your own home. If anyone needs protection, it is me.”

“You are going to leave me and take our kids. I am losing you NOT MY MIND. Taking those drugs cannot stop you from leaving me so I do not take them. I did not tell you about my nightmare two days ago. I am lying alone in an open field surrounded by thousands of people who want to hurt me, and I call you, but no sound comes out and you walk away leaving me there to starve and die. Good thing you left early for work that day.”

“I must admit that I try more in my mind than in real life to do what the Professor tells me. But I am not taking that medication James! I tried. You know I did. Remember how it affected me on our vacation. One minute I am a raving lunatic and the next I am all happy and smiles. I should be the one to leave you. Then I would not care if you messed around.”

“Geeze Mary, we took our vows for better or worse in sickness and in health. You do not need to leave. We need to figure this out together as a team. Dr. Joeby believes that your unresolved traumatic life experiences created the dawn of your nightmares. Did you have nightmares as a child?”

“Maybe. I do not remember. He told me tormented thoughts triggered memories, and I do not need to worry about a mental diagnosis like Schizophrenia.”

James’s eyebrows rose with relief.

“Sounds more like paranoia than anything else.”

James’s thoughts filled with Dr. Joeby’s instruction to stay grounded and consistently speak the truth no matter how bizarre Marietta’s behavior became. Maryetta needed to hear the truth.

“We are going to keep moving forward. I will never quit on our family. God, the one you don’t believe exists, moves mountains and our hope is in Him. His wisdom teaches us, and His love runs through our veins and your victory over this torment will be His victory. You are not alone in this battle, Marietta. Do you love yourself enough to keep battling these emotional scars?”

“Would just loving you be enough?”