The Colors of the Soul

By Paula J.

Jump to new as of April 6, 2001
Jump to new as of April 18, 2001

Chapter One

Posted on Tuesday, 30 November 1999, at 10 : 02 a.m.

The sun was slowly setting over the mountains, casting coral, rose and golden hues on the lake in front of it. From her vantage point, Lizzy had the perfect view and she drank it in. It was moments like these that her artist soul lived for and cherished. She picked up her digital camera and recorded the changing hues as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, until all that was left was the fiery stripe illuminating the darkened mountain range.
"Time to go," she said to herself out loud, packing her equipment away. Walking down the mountainside in the dusk, she hesitated slightly before crossing the dirt road that had brought her to this favorite spot, and was grateful that she had. At that precise minute, a motorcycle careened around the corner and sped by her, kicking up the dust of the road and threatening to choke her by its thickness.

"Look out!" a strident male voice cried as the motorcycle disappeared from her view.

"Way to wound the moment!" she yelled back in sheer frustration. "Idiot." She slung her bag into her old reliable car, reflecting on how all men were alike, well, with the exception of her dad, but then again, she couldn't date him so he didn't count. "Idiots." She said loudly and smiled at the effect, climbing into her car, and headed for home.

The motorcyclist made his way down the dusty road, his heart almost pounding out of his chest. "Crap. I almost ran someone over just now. Too bad it wasn't Wickham. No. Gotta stop obsessing about him. He's not even a part of my life anymore. Remember what Dr. Hurst said...let it go." He repeated his mantra over and over again until he could feel his tenseness start to dissipate. "Better, much better." He sighed, a deep heart-felt sigh, and guided his cycle back toward the city, his new home.

Chapter

Posted on Thursday, 2 December 1999, at 8 : 58 p.m.

"Hey Lizzy, did you see that sunset?" called out a sweet voice as Lizzy entered her parents' home. Lizzy smiled contently. Dear, dear Jane. Always concerned about others and making sure that they knew of her love.

"Sure did. What a beauty, huh." Lizzy took the stairs two at a time until she reached her sister, sitting on a settee on the large landing. Jane was the picture of innocence, her profile partially lit by the two large candles on the reading table nearby. "What's up, dearest Jane?"

"Just reading some poetry, relaxing. Waiting for Mom's next onslaught. You know: when are you going to get married and settle down (and move out). When are you going to find a rich man to marry and support us all (Her mostly, I imagine), et cetera."

"You sounded just like her there for a minute!" Lizzy almost snorted at the look of dismay that crossed her sister's face. "You were trying to imitate her, weren't you?"

"You know, I was just thinking that if I didn't hurry and get a different place to live, that I might just turn into my Mother." Jane sat pensive, a dejected look in her eyes momentarily before brightening visibly. "Well, enough of that talk. Heaven knows that the world only can handle one of her in this area."

"Why Jane, that's the most derogatory remark you've ever said," Lizzy laughed.

"Don't know what's come over me." Jane mused. "At any rate, at least she has provided us with much entertainment, and especially tonight."

"What's going on tonight?"

"Mom says that there is a dance being held downtown in honor of the city hall renovation. A big deal. Dad managed to get us tickets with his connections at the DMV."

"Oh, tempt me, tempt me. I'm kind of tired. I think that I'll pass."

"Oh, no. You can't do that to me. Mom is on the warpath again. She has heard that there is a new guy in town. Very rich, very single and you know what that means."

"The tiara again?"

"Ha ha, very funny. Mom is determined for us to go. I think that she even intends to find you a man."

"Oh great. With my luck, he'll look just like our dear distant cousin William Collins. You remember last year's reunion."

"Ugh." Jane shuddered. "Don't even bring his name up again. What a pervert."

"He sure did attach himself to you last year. I don't think that I've ever seen a position like that before on the dance floor."

"Stop! I'm going to be ill!!" Jane laughed until tears started to pour and Lizzy joined in. "Anyway," she continued once she had her breath, "we need to get ready because it starts in little less than an hour."

"Okay, I'll go...just rescue me if any Collins' types come along!" They wrapped their arms around each other and walked upstairs to their rooms where they found their youngest sister Lydia knee-deep in dresses.

"Hey just in time! Help me find something cool to wear tonight."

"Who said that they would let JD's in to this party?" Lizzy answered, in mock sternness.

"Mom said I could go, so there." Lydia said defiantly.

"Now I know that this is a loser party." Lizzy whispered to Jane who hid her smile.

"Here Lydia, wear this one," Jane offered. "It is red and will go well with your dark hair and eyes."

"Thanks Jane," she replied, snatching the dress out of Jane's outstretched hand. "It's nice to know that I at least have one sister who understands what it's like to be a teenager." Lydia flounced out of the room with an exasperated sound and the other two looked at each other and silently shook their heads.

An hour later, the whole family was at city hall, admiring the blond travertine floors, still shiny with newness and the elegant cream walls and crown moldings. Dance music from a local popular band was coming from the largest room, a room that they had dubbed, The Red Lion for its unusual red flocked wallpaper sporting tiny imperial lions. Lizzy scouted out the room and located her best friend Charlotte, who, as usual, was half leaning against the wall, studying the room's occupants with an enigmatic expression.

"Hey Charlie!" Lizzy called out and watched a pleased grin cover her friend's face.

"Finally, someone with some conversational style," Charlie smiled. "I see that your younger sisters have made themselves right at home." They both turned at a commotion coming from the center of the dance floor. Yes, just as Lizzy had surmised, it was indeed Lydia and Cathie, making the most of their dance moves and short skirts. "Someone should tell them that Shania Twain was just kidding about the short skirts part."

"Yeah. Right." Lizzy said tersely. "Whoah, who is that hottie over there? Did I say drool factor?"

"That honey is Willem Darcy, he is single, rich and did I mention, best friends with the other single hottie who, at this very moment is chatting up your sister Jane."

"Jane gets all the guys."

"Like she'd want most of them...I seem to remember a certain William Collins..." they broke into peals of laughter which drew the attention of the aforementioned hotties. The one talking to Jane, who reminded Lizzy very much of a cocker spaniel, grabbed Jane's hand and began to make his way over to them, followed discretely by Willem Darcy.

Chapter 3

Posted on Monday, 6 December 1999, at 12 : 28 p.m.

"Lizzy, Charlotte, I'd like to introduce you to Charles Bingley. He's new in town." Jane said smilingly, emphasizing 'new' to Lizzy who merely raised her eyebrows.

"How nice to meet you," ventured Charlotte. "My friends call me Charlie. Do yours?"

"Sometimes," replied Charles. " But I avoid Chuck at all costs."

"So, Chuck," Lizzy said deliberately, "Do you like to dance?"

"There are few things that I love better than to dance. And there's the perfect song. Jane?"

"Delighted."

"Oh, hey what about your friend, lurking there in the background? Does he like to dance?" Lizzy gestured toward Darcy, who was close enough to hear the conversation, but had distanced himself just enough to appear unapproachable.
Darcy looked startled and a little put out to be talked about instead of being included in the conversation.

"My name is Willem Darcy." He began coolly. "And no, I don't dance much."

"Well, you couldn't ask for a better partner, Will," Lizzy responded, amused at how his eyes narrowed at the nickname.
"Or a more beautiful one than me!" She smiled to let him know that she was teasing, but he remained expressionless.

"Well, that remark just ran into a wall and fell down," Charlotte commented in a neutral tone. At her commentary, he looked at them both, excused himself quietly and walked away to another part of the room, where he remained for the rest of the evening, observing others but speaking sparingly.

"So, maybe he's not such a hottie after all," Lizzy finally said as they watched him leave.

"Hottie is as hottie does," laughed Charlotte. "C'mon, let's go get some free food." They spent the rest of the night watching Charles and Jane go googly over each other, danced with some of the local guys and flirted with the guys in the band.

"All in all, a good time was had by all," Lizzy told Jane later. "After all, Chuck does have marvelous taste in women, it's his taste in men that needs seasoning."

"Now, Lizzy, I'm sure you'll find that Willem will grow on you, if you let him."

"You mean, like mold or moss? It's doubtful, Jane. Anyway, did you hear what he said to Charles about me? Cathie was standing near them and she overheard Willem say that I just wasn't pretty enough for him to bother dancing with. I'm so crushed."

"Yes, so I see! Oh, Charles was telling me about some experimental therapy-type group that was being formed in Meryton. It sounds fascinating."

"Meryton always has something weird going on."

"No, really Lizzy. It's called experiential. His therapist suggested that he go through it. Some kind of self-empowerment thing. Let's do it, too."

"Yeah, right."

"Charles says that Willem is going to go..."

"Now that I've got to see!"

"Is it a deal, then?"

"I wouldn't miss this for the world, Jane! Where do I sign up?"

"We go to a Dr. Hurst's office this afternoon and talk to him and his support staff about the scheduling."

"Can't wait." Lizzy left her sister's room and went into her own, filled with anticipation of seeing Willem in a therapeutic environment. "He definately needs this!" she said smugly to herself. "What a case." She picked up her journal and began to record the events of the previous evening and her feelings concerning this arrogant man that had started to preoccupy her mind and soon lost track of the time.

Chapter 4

Posted on Monday, 13 November 2000, at 7 : 52 p.m.

The next day came too soon for Willem. He had spent the greater part of the night tossing and turning and finally, in frustration, climbed out of bed and dressed in his leather riding pants and jacket. Quietly he left Bingley's mansion and made his way to where he had parked his motorcycle. He pushed it down the long drive and out onto the paved road that led to Meryton before getting on and revving the engine. The lonely headlight seemed to be only brightness in the night as the moon was mostly obscured by clouds. Without knowing where he was going or even being conscious of time, he drove around Meryton in the dark, passing by fields, farm animals, and the occasional farms lying at the base of the mountainous area. Finally fatigue set in and he returned to Bingley's and to his bed for a few hours of sleep.

"Seven o'clock, time to get up," sang out a falsely cheerful voice next to Willem's door. "Oh, Willem, don't forget. Today we have our group therapy."

Willem groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. "Crap!
What's Caroline doing joining my therapy? This is going to be hell week, I can tell already." The thought of Caroline Bingley hearing his deepest, darkest secrets made him shudder and was more effective at waking him up than her Nutra-Sweet voice. "Note to self...kill Dr. Hurst, hide the body." He got out of bed and headed for the shower.

Upon arriving at the pre-arranged session room in Meryton's Medical Plaza, Willem was dismayed to discover that many others had also signed up for the training. As he scanned the room, his face darkened with each familiar and unwelcome face. "Okay," he thought to himself, "as if
Caroline wasn't bad enough, there are those two girls from last night. Looks like they couldn't find any decent day clothes either." He turned away from Lydia and Cathie in disgust, but as luck would have it, they interpreted his expression in their own unusual way.

"Ooh, did you see the way he was looking at me?" Cathie stage-whispered.

"You? As if. He wants me BAD!" Lydia exclaimed loudly and both girls broke into racuous laughter that Lizzy attempted to quell with one of her best withering looks.

"Hey Charlie," Lizzy said, nudging her friend, "Look who is here...now I know that I'm going to get my money's worth!" She and Charlotte exchanged knowing smiles as they took in Willem's scowling face, which deepened as a smug, reasonably attractive woman swept imperiously into the room and sat down next to him, draping one arm possessively over his shoulder. He looked at her meanly but she ignored the look and began a conversation that was mostly one-sided. Lizzy soon tired of watching the woman in orange as she had nicknamed her to Charlie and looked around the room to see who else had decided to, as the literature had so elegantly said 'to put butt on the line and claim all that were meant to be.'

"So, Lizzy, I see that most of Meryton is here. Is that Dr. Hurst going to be our trainer?"

"Doubtful. I heard that it is someone that we don't know, someone who...."

"Good Morning!" came a strong, no-nonsense voice that came from the back of the room as an older, well-dressed female strode to the front, wearing a name tag that simply stated Catherine. Assorted mumbles came from all around her in reply, at which she looked at them severely. "That's pathetic. If this is how you engage in life, no wonder your lives don't work." At her words, it seemed to Lizzy that the whole class suddenly slumped into their seats as if to escape the wrath of Catherine, and she smiled.

"Oh yeah. This will be the most fun," she said to herself until the loud voice shook her from her thoughts and she gazed into the narrowed eyes of her trainer.

Chapter 5

Posted on Wednesday, 15 November 2000, at 6 : 09 p.m.

"What's so funny?" Catherine demanded.

"Nothing," Lizzy replied firmly, crossing her arms.

"So, why are YOU here today?" Catherine continued in her drill sergeant tone.

"I'm here to put my butt on the line, Ma'am," Lizzy answered mockingly.

"Well, we're not here to talk about your butt, Lizzy, is it?
Stand up." Catherine's neck began to show signs of turning red as Lizzy reluctantly stood up, glancing around slightly to look at the others in the room. "Why are you here?" Catherine repeated in a louder voice.

"I don't know," Lizzy answered defensively.

"Then GET OUT!!" Catherine yelled and Lizzy (and most of the class) jumped at the sudden, ferociousness of the sound.

"NO!" Lizzy yelled back, feeling her face turn as crimson as Catherine's neck.

"I said, GET OUT!" Catherine repeated as her tone seemed to take a more dangerous note to it.

"I'm not going anywhere." Lizzy stated flatly and stood with her feet planted as if they had taken root. "I paid my money and I intend to get what I came for."

"And what is that?"

"To love myself." Lizzy looked as surprised as the rest of the class and most would have laughed at the expression of 'where did that come from' except that the presence of Catherine was enough to squelch every ounce of humor existant within miles.

"Why do you say that you don't love yourself?" Catherine's tone almost softened, or so it felt to Lizzy.

"I don't know."

"That's a LIE!" Catherine's shout bounced off the walls and Lizzy caught its reverberation. "Everyone says 'I don't know' when they don't want to get to the core of the issue. The truth is that you do know. When was the first time that you felt that you didn't love yourself?"

"I ggguess when I was around four years old."

"And what happened then?"

"My mother told me that I wasn't pretty. That I would never be as pretty as my sister Jane. And she looked at me in disgust." Lizzy's voice began to crack as she relived her experience and then burst into tears.

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Like I was a nothing, worthless. Not even fit to be in my Mom's sight."

"Are you ready to break through that belief that you created for yourself?"

"Yes," Lizzy replied, still wiping tears from her face.

"Then, Lizzy, if you're serious about this, it will take everything that you've got, but I promise you that if you give 100% and then some, you will get what you came for."

"I will give it 100% plus," Lizzy nodded. "That's why I'm here."

"We'll see." Catherine said. "You can sit down now." Lizzy felt as if her chair rose to meet her as her knees buckled and she sat. She vaguely heard Catherine begin to question someone who had raised a hand a few rows behind her and focused once more on the others in the room after a deep breath and a reassuring shoulder squeeze from Charlotte. Lizzy looked back and saw Willem who sat with his arms and legs crossed tightly, almost defensively. The woman in orange was glancing unconcernedly at her long, orange-manicured nails until Catherine addressed her.

"You, Caroline. Why are you here?"

"Well, I..."

"Stand up when you answer."

Caroline stood up red-faced and smoothed her skirt nervously. "Well," she started again, this time with less assurance. "Dr. Hurst told me to come. And also, I'm here to grow together with my boyfriend Willem."

Willem started in his seat. "I'm NOT your boyfriend, Caroline." They both stared at each other angrily, Catherine momentarily forgotten.

"Well Caroline, that's all very interesting," Catherine replied dryly, "but that is not a good enough reason to stay. This training is for people who desire to take on their lives and change what doesn't work for them. So, if the only reason you're here is for your shrink and your man, then GET OUT!"

Caroline's eyes glazed over slightly. She debated whether public humiliation of this nature was truly worth it, then bent over, picked up the strap on her purse and slung it over her shoulder, straightened and began to walk out.

"Do we have any more quitters?" Catherine's voice taunted her and echoed in her ears. "Anymore of you who can so easily walk out on their lives?" Catherine questioned, but all sat as if turned to stone. Caroline turned to face Catherine.

"NO, I'm staying." She crossed her arms for emphasis. "I'm tired of running away. You're right. I've always been a quitter."

"Of course I'm right. That's why I said it!" Catherine boomed. "So are you in this training or not?"

"I'm IN."

"Then you give it all you've got, nothing less."

"You can count on it." Catherine motioned for her to take her seat and she sank back into it gratefully and noticed Willem looking at her with what was the first respect that she had ever seen from him. The next few hours passed much in the same way and before long, they all trouped out in the foyer for a much welcome break.

"Hey, Lizzy," Charlie said, hugging her friend. "That was quite a confrontation."

"Yeah, but you know, the weird thing is that I've felt stronger about myself than I have in a long time. I actually am relieved to be challenged." Charlie stared at her as if she had just landed from another planet.

"You?" Charlie finally managed, with an incredulous look.

The doors to the training room opened and it was announced that they had two minutes to get seated. Lizzy noticed that Willem appeared to look longingly at the foyer, which made him almost late to be seated. Lizzy waved frantically at him to point out the only empty seat next to her, feeling panicked for some strange reason. It just didn't seem like a great idea to her to be late doing anything in this training and she wasn't taking any chances. Willem glumly sat next to her without acknowledging her assistance, only to find that Catherine had positioned herself in front of him, and to his horror, was opening her mouth to speak to him.

Chapter 6

Posted on Friday, 17 November 2000, at 11 : 12 a.m.

Willem's eyes slowly met Catherine's. "Why are you here, Willem?" she demanded.

"My therapist, Dr. Hurst..." he began only to be cut off by Catherine.

"This training is NOT therapy, Willem. If you're looking for therapy, stick with Dr. Hurst."

"My therapy hasn't worked at all," Willem blurted out in frustration. "I've been seeing him for years and it doesn't seem to make a dent. Maybe if he were sober..." his voice trailed off as he belately remembered that he was to stand and so he did, coming eye to eye with Catherine.

"How many of you are in therapy?" Catherine asked. "Raise your hands." A sea of hands demonstrated to Willem that he was in the majority. "So, what have any of you gotten from therapy?"

Charlie timidly raised her hand. "I got some good drugs and someone to talk to every week!"

"Stand up." Catherine turned to Charlie and Willem decided to sit down when Catherine whirled back around. "Who told you that you could sit down?"

"No-one."

"Then stand until I tell you to sit down." Although Willem was unused to taking orders from anyone, he stood there, fidgeting his weight from foot to foot, waiting for his turn. "So, Charlotte," Catherine continued, reading her name tag, "why not just talk to the nearest drug dealer on the street corner? Much cheaper and just about as effective, judging from how you are holding yourself."

By now Charlie's mouth was gaping open and she started to laugh.

"What's so funny? Is your life funny?" Catherine thundered, which had the appearance of sobering Charlie.

"No." Charlotte stopped laughing in mid laugh, her eyes wide and terror-stricken.

"Then why all the laughter? Is that how you get through life, making a joke of everything that happens to you? That's sick." Charlotte's eyes never left Catherine's face, and soon they were filled with tears. "That's okay. Let it out," said Catherine in a more subdued voice. "When was the first time that you used joking to hide the pain that you felt inside?"

"I think that it was when I was about six," Charlotte replied quietly.

"And what happened when you were six?"

"I, uh, my mumble mumble mumble," Charlotte whispered.

"Speak up!" Catherine's voice rose and Charlotte flinched at the sound.

"My babysitter molested me." Charlotte's face crumbled in tears of pain, shame and embarassment.

"That's enough!!" Lizzy shouted, jumping to her feet. "Leave her alone."

"How DARE you!" shouted back Catherine. "How dare you interfere with her training. How dare you assume that she needs to be rescued by you, as if she is some little victim."

Lizzy stood defiantly, hands clinched into fists next to a petrified Willem. He had never seen a brawl, and from the looks of it, he was due to be right in the middle of one.

"Lizzy, please." Charlotte said softly. "I can handle this." Lizzy started to sit back down when Catherine shook her head.

"Oh, no. Don't sit down. I'll come back to you later." Lizzy stood, noticing that occasionally Willem would look at her from the corner of his eye, and it didn't assist her mood to notice his derision.

"Jerk." She thought. "I can't wait for you to get yours."

"So, Charlotte," Catherine focused her attention back to Charlotte. "How did that make you feel?"

"How would that make anyone feel?" Charlotte retorted.

"Well, we're not talking about just anyone's life right now, are we?"

"I felt...oh, I felt like I couldn't trust anyone anymore. At least not anyone male."

"Is that why you make yourself as unattractive as possible and go by the nickname of Charlie? Very masculine."

"Yes. Yes it is. I wasn't going to let any male hurt me again."

"So, what price have you paid in your life as a result of this wall that you built around yourself?"

"Distance from people. No dates. People thinking that I'm gay. Hating myself most of all."

"And how does it feel to hate yourself?"

"Like I just don't want to live anymore. Getting up every day is torture. Why bother, it's just going to be another of the same old same old."

"So, why bother?"

"Because I know that there is something more. I just can't seem to get to that point and I'm dying inside."

"I would say that all that is missing is the funeral."

"You're right." Charlotte broke into tears. "I want to get up every morning and love who I see in the mirror. I want to wake up looking forward to each new day, not dreading what it might bring. I WANT TO LIVE!" she wailed.

"What are you willing to give in order to live?" Catherine asked as soon as Charlotte had composed herself.

"Whatever it takes."

"No matter what?" Catherine pressed.

"NO MATTER WHAT," Charlotte said, emphatically.

"Then Charlotte, I promise you that by the end of this week, you will not only love yourself again, but each day will be a joy again and you will live."

"That would be great," Charlotte smiled slightly through her misty eyes.

"You may sit down now, unless of course there is something else that you'd like to add," Catherine said.

"No, I'm done for now." Charlotte sat down and looked sympathetically at Lizzy who gave her a furtive thumbs up.

"Now, Willem," Catherine turned her attention to the still-standing and even more sullen man next to Lizzy, "why are you really here?"

Chapter 7

Posted on Friday, 17 November 2000, at 1 : 10 p.m.

Willem gazed at Catherine's impassive face. "I'd rather not talk about it in front of all these people," he said slowly, sneaking a sidewards glance at Lizzy, who shot an eye dart back at him.

"So Willem," said Catherine, beginning to move around the group, "would you say that your life is working for you?"

"Not really."

"Either it is or it isn't."

"It isn't, then."

"So, are you happy with the way that your life is not working?"

"No."

"Apparently you are, or you'd do something different."

"That's why I'm here."

"No, it's not."

Willem looked at her in surprise.

"You want to know how I could possibly say that, since I'm not in your body, right?" Willem nodded. "What?"

"Yes, Aunt Catherine," he responded automatically. The rest of the group stared. His aunt? Lizzy smiled sardonically to herself. Now this was starting to get good!

"Yes, Willem is my nephew," Catherine said, addressing the group. "I don't imagine that that fact will earn him any special privileges. Quite the contrary, I assure you." Willem blanched at her words, remembering how well she knew all about him. "Can anyone tell me the definition of insanity?" she continued. No-one raised their hand but sat and looked puzzled. How did she want that question answered?

"Insanity," she stated, "is doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results." She paused while they absorbed this information. "You say that you want your lives to be different and yet you keep doing it the same way. This is my training and we're going to do it my way." Several members of the group nodded in agreement.

"So, the first thing we get to do is establish the rules for this training which you will commit to in order to stay in. Are you clear? Oh, don't sit yet Willem, I'll come back to you."

The group answered with a resounding "yes."

"Okay, first rule. No discussing anything that happens within these walls with those not in the training. What is said in here, stays in here. You all clear?"

"Yes."

"Rule number two. No drugs of any kind unless previously prescribed by a physician...for the duration of the training. No alcohol, no caffeinated beverages. Is that clear?"

"Yes," again in unison but with much less enthusiasm.

"Rule number three. You will be in your seats at the beginning of each session. You will have three minutes to handle this. Clear?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Willem, now are you ready to talk about why you're here?" Willem nodded, still keeping a wary eye on Lizzy.

"I'm here to learn trust in love again."

"When did you stop trusting in love?"

"When my parents died about 10 years ago."

"And what did you tell yourself when they died?"

"That life was too painful and that the people that I love were just going to die anyway, so what's the point?"

"How does it feel to be you?"

"Cold. Detached. Emotionless. Empty."

"Dead?"

"Yes."

"You couldn't join them so you died here. How many of you get that about Willem?" All hands raised in the air. "What else are you feeling right now, without censuring your feelings?"

"I feel that God has let me down. That He is punishing me by taking my parents away." Willem fought back the flood that threatened to expose his deepest torment. "I'm supposed to raise my little sister withou a mom or dad to help me and I feel all alone Like no-one, especially God cares. And that makes me mad. I'm so angry."

"Go deeper than the anger, Willem. What is under the anger? What do you feel right now?"

"I feel like God doesn't love me because he took my parents away. I feel alone and unlovable. Like I did something wrong and no-one will tell me what or how to make it better." Willem put one hand over his eyes to shield the others from the sight of his tears. Roughly, he wiped them away. "That's why I'm here. Dr. Hurst hasn't done one damn thing for me and I can't go on half-living. I know what Charlotte feels like. I want to experience love again. I want to feel God's love again." He broke down and wept openly, not caring who saw or what anyone thought.

"Willem," Catherine's voice entered his consciousness, "are you willing to put your butt on the line for this?"

"Yes, Catherine."

"And do whatever it takes to be free of your pain?"

"Yes."

"And trust whatever happens?"

"Yes."

"Then I promise you that by the end of this week, you will experience love and trust again, to a degree that you have never before experienced, if you choose it."

"I do choose it."

"We'll see. You can sit down now. Lizzy, why are you still standing?"

"You told me to stand."

"Do you have any more comments that you wish to make at this time?"

"No."

"Then you may sit down. In a few minutes, you all will be going on a break. Before breaking, however, I will divide you into partnerships or dyads and this person will be your training partner throughout the entire week." Catherine went through the room pairing them up and Lizzy noted with malicious glee that the woman in orange had been paired up with William Collins. She was beginning to chuckle to herself when she heard her name and then heard it linked to Willem. They turned toward each other with expressions of horror and had it been any other two people, Lizzy would have laughed at their faces of shock. She began to dread the rest of the training week paired with Willem and his sullen, gloomy persona.

Chapter 8

Posted on Wednesday, 29 November 2000, at 1 : 41 p.m.

Catherine watched the exiting trainees, some sagging in self-defeat, some defensive, most looking confused or angry about their new training partner. She was especially amused at Willem's reaction. Now we're getting somewhere, she thought to herself with satisfaction. Lizzy will be just perfect for him. I must remember to tell them that there are no accidents in life. Hmmm. She turned to her staff sitting at the back of the room, once she heard the doors shut on the last trainee out and started to brief them on the next section's activities.

Lizzy was discouraged. Why in the world would Catherine torment her with Willem? She must hate me, she thought with despair and headed for the bathroom. Willem followed her at a discrete distance, because, as a rule-follower, he reminded himself that the point of the break was to stay with his partner and do that dyad thing. He sat down on a bench close to the bathroom door and waited.

Lizzy sat on the toilet, her head in her hands. "This sucks!" she said vehemently to no-one in particular. Finally she remembered that she had her partner homework to do and she didn't want to find out what would happen to her as a result of not having it done. Upon leaving the bathroom, her first view was of Willem, waiting for her with an expression of panic mingled with anger.

"You ready to do this dyad thing?" He asked gruffly.

"No." She replied curtly. "But let's do it anyway. Okay, we're supposed to sit down on the floor indian-style facing each other. Then what?"

"We're supposed to tell each other our life story, just the highlights in 3 minutes. Do you have a stop watch?"

"No, we'll just use the wall clock there. You want to go first?"

"Not really."

"Okay then, I'll go." Lizzy sighed resignedly. She told him about her childhood, her grade school years and her high school years and was surprised at the emotions that came up when she brought up certain subjects. Although she didn't like Willem, she was grateful that he at least listened and looked as if he was interested, even though she knew that he wasn't, not really. "It's your turn."

"Okay." Willem dutifully started out with his life story although at first he was still distracted by the feelings that began when he listened to Lizzy talk, and watching the play of expressions across her face. How her eyes would sparkle and shine when she would talk about something that she was passionate about...which seemed to be just about everything. How dull she is going to think that I am, he was thinking, then soon lost himself in recounting to her about his sister and parents and how he grew up. After he had finished, he sat and quietly took in her solemn expression.

"It must have been hard to lose both your parents so soon, one after another."

"Yes. It was. Very hard." Lizzy noticed that his almost openness had become closed and distant again, as if he hadn't shared something very personal and intimate with her.
She opened her mouth to respond to his protectiveness when the doors to the training room swung open and a staff member shouted:

"Training is started. Three minutes to seats." Everyone grabbed their belongings and scurried to the training room.

As they entered the room, they heard Catherine say "Take a seat and sit next to your training partner." Once everyone was in their seats, Catherine came to the front of the room and stood there, eyeing them all.

"So, what did you learn about your training partner during break? Do you still see them as the person that you had a preconcieved belief about before hearing them, or did hearing what they had to say make a difference? Who would like to share? If you'd like to share your experience, stand and a staff member will bring you a microphone."

Lizzy stood up, along with William Collins, Cathie and Charles Bingley, whose expression still reminded Lizzy of a puppy, but this time a lovelorn one. What? He and Jane got each other as partners? No Fair! Lizzy took the mike and paused for a moment to look at Willem before speaking. Okay, so he was pretty good-looking, even if he sometimes had the personality of a carp.

"I learned alot from this dyad," Lizzy began slowly. "First of all, I learned that I have a tendancy to make snap judgements and judge others before they have a chance to show me who they are inside. I hated the idea of being with Willem...let's just say that we got off on the wrong foot. But hearing his life story was like seeing a little into his soul and feeling his heart."

"Is this a new experience for you?" Catherine asked.

"Yes, and no. I'll explain," Lizzy said quickly as she saw Catherine ready to launch into a lecture or something. "I used to allow myself to feel where people were coming from, but then I started attracting all these guys that weren't very honest and so I shut down that part of me. That's when I started to judge people instead of seeing them for who they are, truly."

"So, do you think that being put with Willem was an accident?" Catherine queried, with a glint in her eye.

"No. Not at all. In many ways, we are very much alike," Lizzy said, looking down at the still-seated Willem, who, in his surprise merely nodded his assent.

"How many of you are getting that about your partnerships? That many of you have alot in common?" Catherine glanced around the room. "Yes, William?"

William Collins stood up. "I learned alot from Caroline," he began eagerly. "We have so much in common that it's scary."

"It's scary, all right," muttered Caroline and Catherine turned her attention to Caroline.

"Stand up, Caroline."

"Yes?"

"So, what is so scary about being with William?"

"He...well, do I have to say it?"

"You don't have to do anything."

"Okay, well, he's so fawning. He practically slobbers all over me, always wanting to do whatever I say. It's so disgusting. I can't stand how he doesn't have a mind of his own."

"And just why does that bother you so much?"

Willem held up his hand. "Yes, Willem?"

"I can answer that if she won't." Caroline glared at Willem angrily.

"What does William's attitude have to do with me?" she sputtered.

"In life, as in this training, there are no accidents." Catherine's eyes swept the room as she gauged their reaction to her statement.

"What do you mean?" Caroline asked testily.

"There are no accidents," Catherine repeated somberly. "What does that mean in your case, Caroline?"

"That I'm with William for a reason?"

"Yes."

"But what could that possibly be? We're not the least bit alike." Caroline crossed her arms sulkily.

"Willem, did you have something that you wanted to share?"

"Yes. Caroline, actually you are very much like what you described William to be like. Since the day we met, you have done nothing but try to impress me with how similar our tastes were. If I said something, you would always agree, even if five minutes before that you had just said something completely opposite to it. You are an approval-holic." Caroline looked at him in horror. Where did this Willem come from, and what happened to her nice, quiet, workable man? Sure, he didn't acknowledge their relationship and he never asked her out, at least not in so many words, yet they did spend alot of time together (she conveniently forgot that it was because he came to visit Charles all the time).

"I am NOT!" she shouted, forgetting the other people in the room in her rage.

"Yes you are!" Charles spoke up. "Sorry, sis, but you are truly an approval suck. I have never said anything about your behavior, but ever since you met Willem, you haven't been you. You are constantly looking for his approval and it is nauseating." Charles was red in the face from his unfamiliar role of taking a stand.

"Wow," thought Lizzy, "maybe this cocker spaniel does have a little bite in him after all."

Caroline looked a little less certain of herself and looked for her sister Louise who was sitting in the back. Louisa met her eyes and nodded. "An approval suck?" Caroline said out loud, but to herself. "That's what I've become, an approval suck. That's true." She looked puzzled and distressed for a moment then started laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" Catherine asked softly.

"Because it's true! I know that it's true. I feel how true it is and I'm laughing because it is such a relief to say it. I've been so frustrated inside at playing this role of a perfect person and agreeing with every stupid thing that everyone says, just to look good to everyone else...except to me. What a relief to know that I can be me. Not being myself is so," she looked at William, "irritating. I see that now. Thank you William for showing me what I'd become."

"Always glad to help," William said brightly and everyone laughed, even William, who was still mostly clueless about why everyone was laughing.

Chapter 9

Posted on Friday, 1 December 2000, at 11 : 48 a.m.

"We have enough time for sharing from one more person. Charles, you were standing, go ahead."

Charles took the proferred mike and glanced shyly at Jane who beamed encouragingly. "I learned that Jane and I are so much alike. We both hate to hurt other people's feelings, at all costs, even if it means sacrificing what we'd really like at the time. We both have a tendancy to put others' wants and desires before our own, sometimes with negative results for us."

"What then was the most unexpected revelation or 'aha' that you received from this interaction with Jane?" Catherine pressed.

"That I don't always enjoy being everyone's doormat, them walking all over me as if my feelings don't matter. 'Oh, it's just Charles, he'll do whatever we want because he has no spine', that's what I get from everyone."

"What are you feeling right now?"

"Anger."

"Why are you angry?"

"Because I feel used, like an object."

"Go deeper than the anger. What is under all that anger?"

"I feel like a nothing. Like I could disappear and it wouldn't make a difference to anyone at all."

"When was the first time that you remember feeling this way?"

"I guess around about 5 years old. I was at the fair with my dad and I wanted so bad to ride this one ride. I begged and pleaded with him to let me ride it but he said no, I wasn't big enough. I showed him the height indicator but he wouldn't listen to me. He never listened to anything that I had to say. I started crying and he walked away from me. I had to run to keep up with him, but he acted as if I didn't exist. I was never able to get his attention."

"So what did you tell yourself at that moment?"

"That I wasn't important enough to get his attention. That I didn't matter to him."

"What did you decide then?"

"I did everything to get his attention. Good grades, I agreed with the teachers and became their pets. I was the 'perfect' child, 'so nice and polite', so 'well-behaved.'" Charles cried out.

"And what price have you paid in creating this life for yourself?"

"I feel like everyone's puppet and feel guilty if I say no to anyone. I feel like I don't have an opinion anymore that it really mine. I don't feel who I am anymore."

"Are you ready to get to work on your life and look at how you choose it to be this way?"

"Yes!"

"How many of you are starting to really get that this is never about the other person? I will repeat this because it is a very important concept to get. It is NEVER about the other person," Catherine stopped and looked into their faces. "Now, why would I say this?"

Charles pondered for a moment, then his face brightened, "because I am the only one who can decide how I feel or what I do about anything."

"Exactly so. Anytime that you tell yourself that someone or something or some situation 'makes' you feel, react or think a certain way, then you have given your personal power away to that person, thing or situation. How many of you have ever said or thought that 'Life is Hard, then You Die'? That's pretty much unanimous. What is the purpose of life? Yes, you, Mary, stand up."

"The purpose of life is to endure and be more like God."

"Okay. What does 'endure' mean to you?"

"Hang in there, no matter what."

"When you say 'endure', I get the visual of you hanging on the edge of a cliff by your fingertips in a life and death grip situation."

"About sums it up for me," Mary replied dryly.

"What is there to endure, Mary?"

"Well, just about everything," Mary answered impatiently. "Life wasn't meant to be easy."

"Really. Interesting point of view."

"It's not just a point of view. It's a fact."

"Is that so? So, to you, the whole of our existence is to be slowly tortured by difficulties, then die. Pretty grim."

"Pretty accurate."

"Yes, it is for you. And why is your life so painful, Mary?"

Mary stared at the ceiling, gathering her strength. Should she let all the years of pent-up frustration and pain just spew forth or once again, shove it down and pretend that all was well? NO MORE. She took a deep breath and began.

Chapter 10

Posted on Friday, 1 December 2000, at 12 : 30 p.m.

"First of all, I didn't ask to be born unattractive to parents who are only concerned about whether someone is beautiful or entertaining to be around. All my life it's been 'Jane is so beautiful', 'Lizzy is so smart and witty and clever ad nauseum', 'Lydia is so cute or sexy or fun' and 'Cathie is so popular', it makes me puke." Mary breathed raggedly. "All the while I hear the inference."

"Which is?"

"Why aren't you more like them, Mary?" Mary said in a sarcastic tone. "Well, maybe because I'm not like them. I'm me. Ugly, dense Mary. So I'm not a model-type like Jane. And, unlike Lizzy, information doesn't seem to just fall from the sky. I have to work hard for all the smarts that I have because I don't have a near-photographic memory. And perhaps being called 4-eyes, fatso-ratso and dragon-breath had something to do with my not being popular." She turned and glared at Lydia and Cathie. Cathie sank into her seat but Lydia shrugged unconcernedly.

"How do you see yourself, Mary?" Catherine asked in a neutral tone.

"What I want to know, Catherine," Mary said in an anguished voice, "is why me? Why did I have to be the ugly one? My mom always compares all of our looks to Jane. No offense, Jane..."

"None taken," Jane replied softly.

"...but sometimes I wish she'd grow a huge wart on her face. With hair. And a moustache. And lots of zits."

"Would that change anything?"

"No." Mary's shoulders slumped. "I'd still look just like this. So, what can I do?"

"What can you do?"

"I'm asking you to tell me."

"I don't have your answers. You are the only one who has your answers."

"Great. That's just great. I paid $200 to hear you tell me that I already have my own answers. What a bunch of crap!"

"I'm not here to tell you anything about your life. I'm here to assist you in finding your own answers."

"Well, assist away, because I'm plenty stuck."

"What is the purpose of life?"

"I don't know. I really don't get it. Oh, Oh my gosh, I just had an 'aha'!"

"Yes?"

"I just realized how because of my insecurity, I told myself that I had to know or act like an expert on everything. That's how I got attention. Just now saying 'I don't know' brought that out to me. Wow!"

"Awesome. Would you like to know the purpose of life?"

"Yes!"

"The purpose of life is to learn."

"Learn what?"

"To learn."

"That sounds so simple."

"It is. You can keep it simple or complicate it by making it hard, painful, place judgements on it. Life is about making choices and learning from them. What works, what doesn't.

"But take me, for instance. I didn't choose to be unattractive."

"Didn't you?"

"I was born this way."

"Were you?"

"Hmm. Well, actually, everyone always said that I was the cutest baby. But then I grew up."

"And did you make judgements and create beliefs about you because of how you perceived your looks?"

"Yeah. I guess so. I sure did."

"So what belief do you still have about yourself?"

"That I must have done something really bad to be so ugly."

"Who made you ugly?"

"Well, God of course."

"So, are you saying that He's punishing you?"

"It sure seems that way."

"So all unattractive people are also being punished?"

"I didn't say that."

"Yes you did. By your logic, it must be true."

"What a horrible thing to say."

"You said it. You created it."

"Me? What? Wait a minute...Oh! I see!" Mary's confused expression gave way to the dawning of clarity. "Somehow I've equated looks with either reward or punishment."

"So, what are you learning?"

"Huh. My looks are a tool for learning," Mary was lost in her thoughts spoken out loud. "What am I learning? Nothing at first, apparently. Oh, duh. I can learn to love myself no matter what. No matter how I look, or say or think or do. No matter what anyone says or does. That's what unconditional love is...yeah, I get it now."

"Yes. Unconditional love is, by definition, unconditional. There is nothing that can be done or said to remove that love out of its place. There is no such thing as conditional love."

Mary stared at Catherine, her mouth gaping open. "Yes, that's it! I've been struggling with those stupid Fordyce sermons and the key was so simple all along. Thank you!"

"You're welcome. Would you like to share anything else?"

"No, I'm very not stuck anymore."

"Glad to hear it. We're going to break for today. The staff will hand you some homework on the way out. Some of it you will do on your own, some with your training partner. Your homework will be completed before you begin your training tomorrow at 10 a.m. See you tomorrow."

As Lizzy got up from her seat, she noticed Willem looking at her strangely, almost tenderly. On impulse, she reached out and lightly squeezed his hand. He squeezed back and left the room, still holding onto to her hand, feeling its comfort and safety.

Catherine smiled.

Chapter 11

Posted on Wednesday, 6 December 2000, at 9 : 44 a.m.

Once outside the training room, Lizzy looked at the clock. "Can you believe it is only 4 p.m.?" she asked Willem. "Today has gone by so quickly." He released her hand and looked over the homework sheet that he had been handed.

"I guess we'll be spending some time together to finish this," he said, mentally calculating the hours necessary to complete what appeared to be a long set of personal questions.

"So when do you want to get together to get the partner part done?" Lizzy took in his worried face. "We'll have plenty of time, don't worry."

"It's not that. Time, I mean. It's not about time. Some of the questions are pretty deep."

"Oh. Hey, Will," she said softly and his brown eyes met hers, "your innermost thoughts and feelings are safe with me."

"What are you going to do right now?" he managed to reply, still drawn in by the warm acceptance emanating from her steady gaze.

"I'm starving. I'm heading home to raid the fridge, then I was planning on going to my favorite meditation place to do homework. What are you planning on doing?"

"About the same thing." He was surprised at her sudden burst of laughter.

"You're going to raid my refridgerator?"

"Eat, then do homework, I mean," Willem said defensively, feeling that she was laughing at him.

"Tell you what," Lizzy answered, tucking her arm into his as he looked at her with raised eyebrows, "I'll go raid my fridge for the both of us, a kind of picnic. It doesn't get dark until around 7 p.m. You pick me up around, 5:30, say, and I'll show you the best place to do homework and watch sunsets. Very therapeutic."

"Deal." He offered her his notebook which she took and wrote down directions to her house.

"Here," she said, handing it back to him, "see you at 5:30."
She smiled as she ran after Charlotte who was walking out the door, "hey Charlie, wait up!"

He watched her leave. Now why hadn't he noticed before how incredibly sexy a pair of just tight enough Levis looked on her. Just a few hours ago she wouldn't have merited a second glance and now. He shook his head as if to clear it, then smiled. "I've got a date!"

At exactly 5:30 sharp, Lizzy heard a motorcycle engine revving in her driveway. "A motorcycle?" she thought. "Willem rides a motorcycle?" She ran into the bathroom and pulled a scrunchie out of a drawer crammed full of hair accessories and slammed it shut on the overflow threatening to escape. Quickly gathering her hair into a ponytail, she raced down the hall and grabbed a jacket off the coat rack. "Oops, almost forgot the food." She hurried back to the kitchen and struggled into the backpack, running out the door and almost colliding with Willem in the process.

"Hello. I was coming to the door, like the gentlemanly thing to do."

"Oh my gosh, you look like James Dean, except in leather," Lizzy laughed. "I never would have figured you for a biker."

"Well, I don't have any tatoos, so I hardly qualify to be called a biker," he retorted. He climbed on the motorcycle and Lizzy watched him, fascinated with how the leather hugged his muscular body and somehow reminded her of Batman's anatomically correct suit. He looked back at her. "You coming or what?"

"Uh, yeah," was about all she could squeak out and climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, a grip that increased as he took off quicker than she had expected.

"Hey, I'm going to need some circulation around that area unless you want me to pass out," he yelled over the wind and the engine. She loosened her grip but smiled at the thought of ressuscitating him, laying her head against his broad back as a windbreak.

Chapter 12

Posted on Wednesday, 6 December 2000, at 10 : 57 p.m.

"Stop, this is it!" she cried out as the motorcycle reached the familiar bend. Willem pulled over into the dusty view area near a guard rail and parked the cycle.

"Here, let me carry that backpack. Crap! What do you have in here, one of those boulders?" He grunted, hefting its weight onto his shoulders.

"Weakling!" she smiled, half-skipping down a well-worn path to a small cliff overhang.

"Hey, be careful!"

"Always." She turned and stretched out both arms. "Here it is."

The valley spread out below them, with few houses placed here and there like sentinels. Somewhere to the right, Willem could hear the faint sound of rushing water over rock and knew that it must be the waterfall that he had heard so much about from Charles. He took off his helmet and ran a hand through his thick, unruly hair. The view was magnificent. He could feel the serenity of the time of day and the quiet of the mountains whispering to him peace, be still to his soul. Willem sank down to the soft earth, removing the backkpack from his shoulders and breathed in the intoxicating scent of pine, wildflowers and pure air, closing his eyes and relaxing into the smooth rock wall behind him.

"I always come here to get away, to re-connect with who I am," Lizzy's low voice seemed to come to him from miles away. He opened his eyes and saw that she had silently extracted a thin blanket from the pack and had spread it out. "Hungry?"

"Most definately," he replied, looking past the food she was taking out of the backpack to her crouched form. He vaguely registered the cheeses, fruit, french bread and elegant glasses. "Hey, wait a minute," he said in an accusatory tone, "our ground rules say no alcohol."

"As if," Lizzy's eyes took on a dangerous glint. "It's sparkling juice." She started to say more, but then closed her mouth tightly.

"What? You were going to say something."

"I changed my mind."

"Why don't you just say whatever it is?"

"It probably won't come out right and I don't want to offend you."

"Now you have to say what it is."

"Nope."

"I'm a big boy. I can take it."

"You think?"

"Hit me with your best shot."

"Okay. You have a real trust issue, you know," she said defiantly, as if provoking an argument. He studied her tense, angry expression before breaking into a grin.

"Yes, I do. You want to make something of it?" They both laughed and the tension dissolved. "Some sparkling juice, Ma'am?" He held out a champagne flute.

"Certainly, Sir," she replied, turning away and making noises as if struggling with the lid on the bottle, but was secretly shaking it instead. "Oh, Will," she said innocently, "I can't seem to get this lid off. Will you please open it?" She handed him the bottle and moved rapidly over to the backpack and placed it a few yards away.

"What the...?" he sputtered as cold, sticky fluid burst out of the top of the bottle, spraying him. "You, you get back here!" he roared as Lizzy edged quickly away from him and ran off into a wooded area. "I'll get you my pretty and your little dog Toto, too!" Running as hard as he could, he was still no match for her as she knew the area intimately. Soon, he gave up the chase and wandered dejectedly back to their picnic site. To his surprise, Lizzy was calmly seated in the middle of the blanket, eating cheese and bread.

"A girl could starve to death waiting on you," she said nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened. Willem sat down next to her with a thud, noticing with dismay that the drink had dried on his leather pants along with the trail's dust, leaving streaks of muddy splotches.

"You're a fast runner," he commented at length.

"First in State, Cross Country '93. College track before I blew out my knee." She winced at the memory, but shook it off and handed him some grapes.

"Shouldn't I be reclining, if you're going to feed me grapes?"

"Dream on, Caesar. Let's get to the homework before it gets dark." She pulled the paper from her backpack. "Okay, number one with training partner. Sit in a dyad, establish eye contact for 60 seconds in silence, then share your experience with each other."

"Do you have a watch? If not, mine has a timer on it."

"Let's use yours. Ready? Okay, go." They locked eyes. "That was the timer, already?"

"Yes, 60 seconds. What did you experience?"

"No, you first this time."

"Oh, alright." He twisted the ring on one hand nervously. "At first I was so uncomfortable to just be looking without saying anything. But then, I felt like I was falling into your eyes, into who you are inside."

Lizzy felt her mouth go dry. "This may sound weird to you, but here goes. I experienced you: your emotions, your pain, your joy, your, your passion," she stumbled on the word, unsure how to proceed. Their faces were only inches apart now and his warm breath was like an invisible caress. Willem felt the irresistable pull of those magnetic lips and he succombed to the temptation.

Chapter 14

Posted on Friday, 15 December 2000, at 11 : 23 a.m.

"I have a song that I'd like to share with you," Lizzy finally said. "Would you like to come to my place and finish our homework?"

"Yeah, sure." They climbed on the motorcycle and soon the Bennett house loomed in front of them. Lizzy noticed her mother's nervous pacing figure in front of the windows and had Willem kill the engine at the driveway's entrance.

Change of plans, she thought. "Let's not go in," she said, "I've got a studio next to the house. Why don't we go there?"

"Okay." Willem couldn't guess why they were pushing the motorcycle silently down the drive or why Lizzy insisted on going to her studio, but if it meant avoiding other people at this point, he was all for it. He parked the bike on one side of a small garage-shaped building and gazed at its exterior. Oversized windows and roman shades indicated a love of bringing the outside inside. Upon entering, he noticed an easel in the corner with an oil painting in process. Here and there were scattered a profusion of art supplies: oils, pastels, conte pencils, sharpeners, kneaded erasers, paper and watercolors.

"You're an artist," Willem remarked and winced at the stupidity of his remark.

"Yes, and also a perfectionist, which doesn't always equal joy in my art. This is my only anal area, I guess," she smiled at him. He picked up a sketch pad idly and started to turn the pages. "Here's the CD I was talking about," she said, pulling a CD from a long row of CDs on a low shelf. "Make yourself comfortable." She motioned to a massage chair and he stretched out dutifully with a slight smile.

"I might fall asleep. Just so you know." He closed his eyes and the music began, a low piano solo, then a gripping baritone:

We've heard the tale since we were young

Heard the songs that have been sung

About an evil spell

Someone beautiful is cursed

We feel sad through every verse

'Til a kiss and all is well

the message that no-one can see

is clearer to someone like me

He stirred in the chair. Did she mean this song for him? How could she even presume to know him?

There is no curse or evil spell

That's worse than one we give ourselves

There is no sorceror as cruel

As the proud, angry fool

And yet we cry 'life isn't fair'

Beneath our cries, the truth is there

The power that will break this spell

We should know very well

Is locked within ourselves.

Yes, that's exactly how I feel. Like I'm a prisoner in a cell of my own making, without a key. The rich tone of Joseph Paur's voice entered his soul and became one with his own, internal one:

Yet we'd rather blame

And curse our fate than change

We'd run from everyone to hide

from the pain and all the shame

The story's old, we know it well

about a wretched, evil spell

The power that will break this curse

Oh, I know, all too well

Is locked within myself.

As the strong baritone faded away, Willem buried his head in his hands and sobbed openly. He felt comforting arms encircle him and his heart began to thaw, bursting through a part of the thick walls that he had built so many years ago.

"The song is called 'The Curse'," Lizzy whispered. "I play it often to remind myself that I decide what my life is going to be."

"Lizzy," Willem said in a choked voice, "Will you assist me in breaking down these walls? I can't do it by myself."

"You can count on it," Lizzy replied firmly as she continued to hold Willem. "I'll walk with you every step of the way." Willem managed a faint smile and put his arms around her.

"Thank you," he said simply. "Thank you for caring."

"It's an honor," she said, snuggling into his arms and entwining her legs in his.

Chapter 16

Posted on Monday, 15 January 2001, at 8 : 50 p.m.

Catherine eyed the trainees, some of them nervous for the new day of training.

"Today we are going to begin with a small group setting," Catherine told them. "Blow these chairs out to the side of the room and form a standing circle." After a few minutes of chair scraping sounds, the entire group was organized into a circle waiting for her instructions. Lizzy found herself at the opposite end of the circle from Willem and noticed his preoccupation with the newest member of their group, George. She brought her attention back to Catherine as her booming voice continued.

"Count off from one to seven." A loud count-off ensued after which came, "now, form into the number group that you just counted yourself into." They all scrambled quickly, some calling out their number, some holding the number of fingers in the air as an indicator. "Okay. Now that you are all in your small groups, look around at the people that you have called forth for yourself to be your small group." Lizzy looked around with satisfaction to see Willem but then became uneasy to also see George there. A very smirking George who didn't hide his pleasure at being with Willem.

Catherine went on,"In life, as in this training there are no accidents." She would have continued with her train of thought except for the outburst that came from Willem.

"No accidents!" Willem practically screamed. "I am in the same group as a person that I hate more than anything and you are saying that there are no accidents?"

"So, Willem, why did you call George forth?" came Catherine's patient question.

"I didn't."

"Really. Then why is he in your group?"

"I don't know," Willem answered stubbornly. "It's not fair."

"There are only two kinds of fair..."

"Yeah, I know. State and county."

"So, is it true that you don't know why you called George forth into your group?"

"I would have to say that it is due to our unfinished business," Willem replied glaring at George who smiled at him patronizingly.

"Perhaps as the day progresses you will have the opportunity to sort it out. When the moment comes, take a look at how this shows up in your life and make a new choice." Catherine looked at Willem with love. "Now, all of you close your eyes and bring to mind the most painful experience that you have ever had in your life. This experience is the one experience that, if anyone were to ask, and for alot of you, you tell it without being asked, would represent the time that you felt the most victimized."

The room fell completely silent as the trainees entered the world of their memories. Soon, Catherine's voice interrupted their reveries. "Once you have one experience in front of you, open your eyes." Soon all eyes were upon her. "One by one, you will share your experience with your small group. You each will have 2 minutes to do so. A staff member will join each group now to facilitate this process. Once they are seated, you may begin."

Lizzy noticed that her group remained silent, so she said, "Okay, I'll start." At the end of her experience, she noticed that she felt lighter than she had felt in a long time. Willem reached out a hand and squeezed hers in compassion.

"I'll go next," said George and launched into his story. Lizzy held her breath as he related all the misery of his relationship with Willem and his family and how sadly he had been treated at the hands of his old, dear friend Will. Somehow, although Willem had dropped her hand as his went into a fist, she felt sorrow. This didn't seem like the Willem she now knew, but it did seem very much like the Willem that she had first met a week ago, a man too good to dance with her. And there was that something about George. Oh, he told a good story and even cried in the appropriate parts, but it all seemed too contrived. She felt relieved after all had shared and were ready to move to the next part of the session.

"Did anything come up for you that you didn't expect?" Catherine queried. The room remained quiet with the exception of a few muffled sobs throughout the space. "Now, this time you are going to have the opportunity to share your victim story, the same one you just told, but this time from an accountable point of view. You will explain how, at every moment, you choose what you did and how you felt about it. Go!" Catherine turned away from the groups to hide the grin that was threatening to overcome her professional 'serious' face. She couldn't wait to hear the sharing from George's group.

Chapter 17

Posted on Friday, 6 April 2001, at 2:57 a.m.

The Colors of the Soul: Chapter 17

Time seemed to stop for Lizzy as she leaned into her group's sharing time. She took her turn and discovered to her surprise that as she told her victim story from an accountable point of view, she saw clearly how she had made herself into a victim, telling herself that she had no power over her own beliefs about herself and what she had created for herself. As the realization struck, she experienced a freedom unlike any other that she had previously felt. A weight lifted, a key turned. She finished and took her seat. Willem looked into her eyes, took a deep breath and his turn began.

As he stood to talk, he could feel his heart clamoring wildly and his mouth went dry. For a moment, he closed his eyes, took one deep, cleansing breath and began to speak. As he came to the part involving George, he noticed that the rancor and the tightness that had always accompanied any mention of Wickham or any sight of him melt away. His words continued with the story and his spirit whispered to him, guiding him in revealing where he had allowed his jealousy of George and his father's favoritism to eat away at his self-esteem, to the point where nothing George did could be of any good or use. The power that George had held over him, the darkness and anger all left him and he retook his seat, in amazement at the insight that had come to him in just a few short minutes.

One by one, each group's member took their turn until Catherine called time.

"So, are you all complete in your sharing?" She asked. "Did everyone take the opportunity to share with your group your victim story in accountable terms?"

George smiled and raised his hand.

"Stand up," Catherine said. "What is it that you would like to share with the group?"

"I didn't get to share. I ran out of time."

"You ran out of time. Did you have the same amount of time as everyone else?"

"Yes."

"So why didn't you take the time to share?"

"Because Willem here took most of the time in our group."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"So, what you're really saying is that, once again, you are a victim of life, is that it?"

"No, all I'm saying is that I didn't have enough time because..."

"Oh, please," Catherine said impatiently. "If you're only here to continue to play your pathetic little game of poor me then you are welcome to leave. In fact, there is the door. Get out."

"What?!" George sputtered. His confident smile had been replaced by shocked disbelief.

"This training is for people who want to take on their life, not blame others for what they have created for themselves. If you think that you've found a stage for 'This is Your Victim Life', then you are sadly mistaken." She looked at him sternly. "The drama doesn't work here, George. So, get real or get out." She folded her arms for effect and stood in front of him, unflinching and unmoved.

"I don't get what you're saying." He tried again and cringed at her next words.

"Don't you? Are you open to some feedback?"

"Sure," he said with less confidence.

"If you would like to share your experience of George, then please stand and a microphone will be handed to you." George looked over the room and took in the five people who stood in response. Lizzy was the first to take the microphone.

"George, my experience of you is that you are perhaps the biggest liar I have ever met. You blow into town, schmoozing us all, spreading rumors about Willem and his family, trying to gain sympathy for all the wrongs inflicted, yet you don't have the guts to tell us your accountable story. I wonder if you even know the meaning of the word." George seemed to blanch with every word and as each person took their turn at the microphone, he seemed to grow less and less self-assured. He heard 'loser, liar, shallow, drama-king, vicious, vindictive' and so many other truths that struck him to the core that he was tempted to run from the room. For some reason his eyes were drawn to Willem's, but all he saw there was encouragement and, to his surprise, a softness that reminded him of their boyhood days together.

"Yes, I am all those things," George said shakily. "I admit that I have lied, cheated and hurt my way through life. I am ready to be accountable."

Catherine's face softened almost imperceptibly. "Go ahead. It's about time, George."

And he began.

Conclusion

Posted on Wednesday, 18 April 2001, at 1:12 p.m.

George looked around the room and cleared his throat nervously. Why all of the sudden did his mouth go dry and numb, all at the same time? He'd never experienced this before. Oh yeah, he remembered. He'd never taken the time to be accountable before, not only to others, but especially to himself. At least not since his teen years.
Where do I start? he wondered, then realized with a start that he had spoken the words out loud as Catherine's strident voice cut into his private world.

"Just start with your earliest memories of self-imposed victimness and stop when you feel complete."

"Okay, I can do that. I can do this," he repeated, almost to himself. As he gathered his strength, he noticed that one face in particular, a girl who he'd considered a mindless flirt for most of the training, smiled at him slightly, with encouragement. "My earliest memory. I remember being really good friends with Willem. I loved hanging out with him, fishing and stuff on his dad's estate. My dad worked for his dad and would spend lots of time over at The Estate, as I called it, so I would tag along. At least I got to see my dad that way. I remember one day feeling really jealous of the attention that Will's dad always showed him and I wished that my own dad would pay more attention to me. Will's dad was great. He would sometimes go fishing with Will and me and would always bring some kind of treat. I started to wish that Mr. Darcy was my dad and that he would someday like to adopt me. I noticed that sometimes Will noticed that I would do everything I could to get his dad's attention and most of the time he never acted like it mattered. Until one day." George paused and drew a ragged breath.

"That day, we were fishing, as usual. We were teasing each other about something and I shoved him. I pretended that it was in fun, but really it was in spite. I had become so jealous of Will that I wanted to take his place. He shoved me back and soon it had escalated into a full scale war. We ended up in the water and I pretended that Will was trying to drown me when his dad and mine came up. His dad was horrified and I could tell that I had put a wedge into their relationship. I didn't stop there, though. Every chance I got, I made sure that I started something and Will got caught in the middle of one of our wars. By the time my dad passed away, Mr. Darcy was like a father to me and had distanced himself quite a bit from his son. He even left me a huge chunk of real estate in his will. But that wasn't enough for me. I knew that his sister was due to inherit a fortune and I also knew that I could make her fall in love with me. It was pretty easy because by then I was a great con. But then, you already knew that," he said, looking at Catherine who smiled back at him.

"Yes," she replied. "Continue."

"So, I got Georgie to fall in love with me. I was going to sleep with her and get her pregnant so that she'd insist on getting married and I almost had her convinced one day, but Will showed up at the Estate and she lost her nerve and that was that. Will lost it when she told him about us and I made a deal with him that I would leave her alone if he gave me a settlement of a million dollars. Otherwise, I'd find her somehow and finish what I'd started. I got my million, but I lost it in Vegas. So I came into town after I found out that he was here to see if I could get some more money out of him."

"I realize that in spite of all my cons, there are some people that won't be conned. Like you," he nodded at Catherine. "And you, too," indicating Lizzy and Will. "I know that with all of his money, Will could have made my life miserable and yet he didn't. And I realize that all my conning still didn't get what I wanted most, which was attention from my dad. I know now that the only thing that wasn't my fault was that I didn't get the attention that I wanted from my dad. The rest...the rivalry, the revenge, the plotting...that was all me and no one else. Will, I know that I don't deserve it after all I did to mess with your life, but will you accept my apology? I am sorry that I hurt you and tormented you. You were my best friend and I took that friendship and stomped all over it. Can you forgive me?"

Will rose from his seat. "All I ever wanted was a brother." They looked into each other's eyes, their shared history melting away and became boys again. "Brother." Will reached out his arms and they hugged.

"Thank you," George sobbed. "Brother." They stood as one as the rest of the class surged forward and surrounded them in one group embrace as a John Denver song enveloped them:

I want to live, I want to grow
I want to be, I want to know
I want to share all I can give
I want to be, I want to live.*

Catherine turned away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill forth and swallowed hard. The gift of forgiveness had once again restored the true colours of the soul.

*I want to Live by John Denver

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