Pish Posh by Ellen Potter Read Free Book Online

“You just want me to believe you are insane. Instead, you are simply an evil, no-goodnik, snot-nosed pig of a woman! I can’t bear the sight of you! Fleechhh!”
    Clara covered her mouth to keep from gasping. This man was horrible. Horrible!! And the woman must be his patient, too. She had come to him for help, and he was treating her so cruelly!
    Clara quietly inched closer to the office door and leaned her ear against the wall outside, to hear better. The woman was crying softly now, but her voice still had great strength in it as she declared, “Upon my honor, it doesn’t matter what you think of me. ”
    Good for you! Clara thought, nodding.
    â€œYou are wrong, mademoiselle!” Annabelle’s father shouted. “It matters very much what I think of you. And now you will see just how much! ” There was a moment of utter silence, and then the woman began to scream in the most bloodcurdling way, so that Clara actually jumped and pressed her hands against her mouth to keep from shrieking.
    â€œDo you feel the flames licking at your toes, mademoiselle? Do you feel the fire creeping up your legs now? Go ahead and struggle against those ropes—it will only make the flames leap higher! You will burn for your lies! You will writhe in eternal torment!” And all the while the woman never stopped screaming, until Clara could stand it no longer and burst into the office.

CHAPTER SIX
    L ying on an overstuffed lavender couch was a blonde young woman with an expensive-looking haircut. Her hands, with their tapered, bright pink nails, were folded in her lap, and her eyes, which were shut when Clara first entered, were now open wide and staring at Clara in surprise. Opposite her was a pleasant-looking man with thick, light brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache.
    â€œPardon me, but I’m afraid you’ll have to leave,” the man said kindly. “We’re in the middle of a session.”
    â€œI heard a woman screaming,” Clara said.
    â€œWas I screaming?” the woman on the couch asked eagerly.
    â€œOnly a little, Amber,” the man said. “Which is perfectly understandable, since you were being set on fire. ”
    â€œCool!” Amber said as she pulled a pack of gum out of the pocket in her blouse. “And was I brave at the end? ” She peeled a stick of gum and popped it in her mouth.
    â€œWonderfully brave, Amber. You hardly flinched.” Then he turned to Clara. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.” Clara was so confused, it took her a moment to nod in embarrassment and leave.
    Just as she closed the door softly behind her, Annabelle came trotting down the hallway, holding a paper bag.
    â€œHo, there! What were you doing in my father’s office?”
    â€œI ... I heard screams. ”
    â€œOh. ”Annabelle rolled her eyes. “That’s Amber, one of Dad’s clients. Such a drama queen! She was Joan of Arc in another life, and she insists on repeating the whole burning-at-the-stake thing again and again. You’d think once would be enough, wouldn’t you? She says it’s helping her to quit smoking.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Clara said. “Why was your father being so mean to her? ”
    â€œThat’s his job. He’s a hypnotherapist. ” She looked at Clara as if that would explain everything, but when she saw that it clearly didn’t, she continued to explain. “He hypnotizes people to help them get rid of their problems. You know, like if someone wants to lose weight or stop smoking or get over their fear of elevators. But he also can get people to remember who they were in their past lives. Oh, they can remember all kinds of weird stuff—like being a soldier in the Civil War or owning a pastry shop in France during the Revolution.”
    â€œBut how do you know they’re not faking it?”
    â€œSome of them fake it, but my dad has ways to