Part 8 (1/2)

Doctor Lauler glanced quickly at David and then looked away.

”I see,” he nodded. ”Of course the walling off of a part of the past--you said a part--?”

”Practically all of it. I'll tell you about that later. What about the walling off?”

”It is generally the result of what we call the protective mechanism of fear. Back of most of these cases lies fear. Not cowardice, but perhaps we might say the limit of endurance. Fear is a complex, of course.

Dislike, in a small way, has the same reaction. We are apt to forget the names of persons we dislike. But if you have been reading on the subject--”

”I've been studying it for ten years.”

”Ten years! Do you mean that this condition has persisted for ten years?”

David moistened his dry lips. ”Yes,” he admitted. ”It might not have done so, but the--the person who made this experiment used suggestion.

The patient was very ill, and weak. It was desirable that he should not identify himself with his past. The loss of memory of the period immediately preceding was complete, but of course, gradually, the cloud began to lift over the earlier periods. It was there that suggestion was used, so that such memories as came back were,--well, the patient adapted them to fit what he was told.”

Again Doctor Lauler shot a swift glance at David, and looked away.

”An interesting experiment,” he commented. ”It must have taken courage.”

”A justifiable experiment,” David affirmed stoutly. ”And it took courage. Yes.”

David got up and reached for his hat. Then he braced himself for the real purpose of his visit.

”What I have been wondering about,” he said, very carefully, ”is this: this mechanism of fear, this wall--how strong is it?”

”Strong?”

”It's like a dam, I take it. It holds back certain memories, like a floodgate. Is anything likely to break it down?”

”Possibly something intimately connected with the forgotten period might do it. I don't know, Livingstone. We've only commenced to dig into the mind, and we have many theories and a few established facts. For instance, the primal instincts--”

He talked on, with David nodding now and then in apparent understanding, but with his thoughts far away. He knew the theories; a good many of them he considered poppyc.o.c.k. Dreams might come from the subconscious mind, but a good many of them came from the stomach. They might be safety valves for the mind, but also they might be rarebit. He didn't want dreams; what he wanted was facts. Facts and hope.

The office attendant came in. She was as tidy as the desk, as obsessed by order, as wooden. She placed a pad before the small man and withdrew.

He rose.

”Let me know if I can be of any further a.s.sistance, Doctor,” he said.

”And I'll be glad to see your patient at any time. I'd like the record for my files.”

”Thank you,” David said. He stood fingering his hat.

”I suppose there's nothing to do? The dam will either break, or it won't.”

”That's about it. Of course since the conditions that produced the setting up of the defensive machinery were unhappy, I'd say that happiness will play a large part in the situation. That happiness and a normal occupation will do a great deal to maintain the status quo.

Of course I would advise no return to the unhappy environment, and no shocks. Nothing, in other words, to break down the wall.”

Outside, in the corridor, David remembered to put on his hat. Happiness and a normal occupation, yes. But no shock.