Ashley was wearing handcuffs, and when she sat down, her feet were shackled to the bottom of the seat.
Why are they doing this to me? I'm not a dangerous criminal. I'm a normal woman. And a voice inside her said. Who murdered five innocent people?
The prisoners on the plane were hardened criminals, convicted of murder, rape, armed robbery and a dozen other crimes. They were on their way to top security prisons around the country. Ashley was the only woman on board.
One of the convicts looked at her and grinned. "Hi, baby. How would you like to come over and warm up my lap?"
"Cool it," a guard warned.
"Hey! Don't you have any romance in your soul? This bitch ain't going to get laid for - What's your sentence, baby?"
Another convict said, "Are you have any, honey? How about me movin' into the seat next to you and slippin' you - ?"
Another convict was staring at Ashley. "Wait a minute!" he said. "That's the broad who killed five men and castrated them."
They were all looking at Ashley now.
That was the end of the badgering.
On the way to New York, the plane made two landings to discharge or pick up passengers. It was a long flight, the air was turbulent and by the time they landed at La Guardia Airport, Ashley was airsick.
Two uniformed police officers were waiting for her on the tarmac when the plane landed. She was unshackled from the plane seat and shackled again in die interior of a police van. She had never felt so humiliated. The fact that she felt so normal made it all the more unbearable. Did they think she was going to try to escape or murder someone? All that was over, in the past. Didn't they know that? She was sure it would never happen again. She wanted to be away from there. Anywhere.
Sometime during the long, dreary drive to Connecticut, she dozed off. She was awakened by a guard's voice.
"We're here."
They had reached the gates of the Connecticut Psychiatric Hospital.
When Ashley Patterson was ushered into Dr. Lewison's office, he said, "Welcome to Connecticut Psychiatric Hospital, Miss Patterson."
Ashley stood there, pale and silent.
Dr. Lewison made the introductions and held out a chair. "Sit down, please." He looked at the guard. "Take off the handcuffs and shackles."
The restraints were removed, and Ashley took a seat.
Dr. Foster said, "I know this must be very difficult for you. We're going to do everything we can to make it as easy as possible. Our goal is to see that one day you will leave this place, cured."
Ashley found her voice. "How - how long could that -take?"
Otto Lewison said, "It's too soon to answer that yet. If you can be cured, it could take five or six years."
Each word hit Ashley like a thunderbolt. '"If you can be cured, it could take five or six years...."
"The therapy is nonthreatening. It will consist of a combination of sessions with Dr. Keller - hypnotism, group therapy, art therapy. The important thing to remember is that we're not your enemies."
Gilbert Keller was studying her face. "We're here to help you, and we want you to help us do that."
There was nothing more to say.
Otto Lewison nodded to the attendant, and he walked over to Ashley and took her arm.
Craig Foster said, "He'll take you to your quarters now. We'll talk again later."
When Ashley had left the room, Otto Lewison turned to Gilbert Keller. "What do you think?"
"Well, there's one advantage. There are only two alters to work on."
Keller was trying to remember. "What's the most we've had?"
"The Beltrand woman - ninety alters."
Ashley had not known what to expect, but somehow she had envisioned a dark, dreary prison. The Connecticut Psychiatric Hospital was more like a pleasant clubhouse - with metal bars.
As the attendant escorted Ashley through the long, cheerful corridors, Ashley watched the inmates freely walking back and forth. There were people of every age, and all of them seemed normal. Why are they here? Some of them smiled at her and said, "Good morning," but Ashley was too bewildered to answer. Everything seemed surreal. She was in an insane asylum. Am I insane?
They reached a large steel door that closed off a part of the building. There was a male attendant behind the door. He pressed a red button and the huge door opened.
"This is Ashley Patterson."
The second attendant said, "Good morning, Miss Patterson." They made everything seem so normal. But nothing is normal anymore, Ashley thought. The world is upside down.
"This way. Miss Patterson." He walked her to another door and opened it. Ashley stepped inside. Instead of a cell, she was looking at a pleasant, medium-size room with pastel blue walls, a small couch and a comfortable-looking bed.
"This is where you'll be staying. They'll be bringing your things in a few minutes."
Ashley watched the guard leave and close the door behind him. This is where you'll be staying.
She began to feel claustrophobic. What if I don't want to stay? What if I want to get out of here?
She walked over to the door. It was locked. Ashley sat down on the couch, trying to organize her thoughts. She tried to concentrate on the positive. We're going to try to cure you.
We're going to try to cure you.
We're going to cure you.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dr. Gilbert Keller was in charge of Ashley's therapy. His specialty was treating multiple personality disorder, and while he had had failures, his success rate was high. In cases like this, there were no easy answers. His first job was to get the patient to trust him, to feel comfortable with him, and then to bring out the alters, one by one, so that in the end they could communicate with one another and understand why they existed, and finally, why there was no more need for them. That was the moment of blending, when the personality states came together as a single entity.