Free Dead Voices by Rick Hautala

snow plow exploded. A huge ball of orange/lame and billowing black smoke leaped into the night sky to be swallowed by the storm. Thicker smoke rolled out from under the overturned truck. Then there was a second, louder explosion as the intense heat ignited the Subaru’s gas tank.
    Before she passed out and fell to the ground, Elizabeth was dimly aware that Doug was no longer standing beside her. As darkness swelled around her, pulling her down, she was positive she could still hear Caroline’s screams, echoing in her ears. Even though she knew full well that the explosions andfiames had silenced her daughter’s cries ... forever!
     
    5 .
    “ ... Then a snow plow came roaring around the comer, smashed into the car, and exploded.” Elizabeth’s voice hitched, but she forced herself to continue. “Caroline died instantly ... At least, I find myself hoping so.” Tears swelled in her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, muffling her voice. “I have to believe that!”
    “Well,” Graydon said, in the lengthening silence. He shifted uneasily in his chair. “The loss of a child is certainly tragic, and it certainly goes a long way in explaining why your marriage might not hold together.”
    Elizabeth’s eyes glazed over as she looked up at Graydon, her mind dredging up — again — the horrors of that night. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. She reached blindly for the box of Kleenex on the coffee table, got a tissue, and then buried her face in it. Her shoulders shook and her lungs ached as grief and pain filled her, seeking an outlet. It startled her when she felt Graydon’s hand come to rest reassuringly on her shoulder.
    “The loss of a child — or anyone close to you — is something I feel certain no one can ever really get over,” he said, lowering his voice until it was barely more than a comforting buzz. “Believe me. I know from personal experience. And I would chance to say that the agony stays with you your whole life ... unless you find you can do something to get rid of the blocks that allow it to ruin your life. And —” He took a deep breath, sat back down in his chair, and rubbed his strong-looking hands together once he seemed assured the worse of Elizabeth’s emotional outburst was over. “I believe that’s what therapy can do. It can only help you if you’re brave enough to face your grief, and then do something to settle it in your mind and overcome it.”
    When he said the word do , he brought his fist down into his opened palm so hard it made a loud, wet, smacking sound. Elizabeth was startled, but the sudden burst of positive energy she felt coming from Graydon, even in spite of her internal agony, made her smile slightly.
    “Now I’m not saying I’m necessarily the therapist for you,” Graydon went on, leaning back and glancing momentarily at the ceiling. “As a matter of fact, I always encourage my prospective clients to do a bit of comparative shopping. I can give you the names of several other highly qualified therapists in the area if you’d like.”
    Elizabeth wasn’t sure why, but she instantly shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said. “Dr. Gavreau recommended you to me, and I think ... I think we can probably work well together. That is, if you’re willing to work with me.”
    “I’d like nothing better,” Graydon said quickly. He looked at her with an intense stare.
    Surprised by his quick acceptance, Elizabeth frowned and regarded him carefully. “Just like that?” she asked, snapping her fingers.
    “I’ll give it careful consideration, then,” Graydon said, smiling widely, “if it makes you feel better. After a day or two, why don’t you give me a call to set up another appointment?”
    “I will,” Elizabeth replied. She was surprised that she was being so forward, but she took this as an indication that she was comfortable working with Graydon. When she stood up to leave, and Graydon went to get her jacket from the coatrack, she wondered what it