Amaxophobia
As Sally Yates drove down Essex Street one stormy autumn morning, she passed a young man walking in the same direction as she was heading. She recognized him as Gordon Pullman, a fellow employee at Puritan Falls Hospital. Normally, she didn't offer people a lift unless she knew them well, but seeing the poor man try to stay dry as his umbrella was being blown about by the wind kindled her compassionate nature.
The maternity nurse turned on her signal, pulled to the curb, rolled down her window and called to the pedestrian.
"Hey, can I give you a ride?"
Gordon looked over her car from front bumper to rear before declining her offer.
"I appreciate the gesture," he replied, "but I'd really rather walk."
Feeling somewhat insulted by his refusal, Sally closed the window and continued her commute to work.
Later that morning, when she went to the hospital cafeteria for coffee, the pretty nurse encountered Gordon again. Still annoyed by their earlier meeting, she deliberately looked the other way when she passed by him.
"Hello there," he said, as she was taking her wallet out of her handbag to pay for her coffee. "Here, let me get that."
Gordon then handed the cashier the money against Sally's objections.
"You don't have to pay for my coffee," she protested.
"I know, but I wanted to. I appreciate the fact that you offered me a ride."
"Which you didn't accept. It was pouring out. Do you need the exercise or do you enjoy getting drenched?"
"Neither," he admitted as the two of them headed toward an empty table. "The truth is I don't like being in cars. Some people are afraid of flying; I'm afraid of travelling in an automobile. I walk everywhere I need to go."
"Everywhere?" Sally asked, unable to believe someone could let a foolish fear drastically alter his life.
"Puritan Falls is a small town. I'm within walking distance to everything I need. I'm a five-minute walk away from the grocery store, a ten-minute walk away from work and a twenty-minute walk away from the mall. And if I don't feel like walking, I just get my bicycle out of the garage."
"Don't you ever travel?"
"Sure. Trains and boats go to all sorts of fun and interesting places."
Despite Gordon's bizarre reluctance to travel by automobile, the two hospital workers became good friends, and eventually their relationship blossomed into romance.
* * *
"I guess a limousine is out of the question," Sally said with a teasing smile as she and Gordon were discussing their wedding arrangements eighteen months after their first cup of coffee together in the hospital cafeteria.
"You guessed right," the future bridegroom responded. "I don't see why we can't both walk to the reception."
"You've got to be kidding me! You don't honestly believe ...?"
His laughter eased her anger.
"I have the perfect solution to our dilemma," he announced. "A horse drawn carriage will convey us from the church to Chez Pierre."
"How romantic!" Sally exclaimed, hugging her fiancé tightly.
"If it doesn't rain that day," Gordon cautioned. "I don't know how romantic it will be if we're both taking shelter under umbrellas."
"It can't rain on our wedding day. I forbid it."
"I hate to break the bad news to you, but you can't control everything."
"Oh no? Just wait and see."
As their wedding day neared, Gordon's unpleasant observation became more prophetic. Although Sally had a good handle on all the bridal arrangements, she soon realized not everything was under her control.
"Are you feeling okay?" she asked her future husband one evening when they met at the Green Man Pub for dinner.
"Yeah, I'm just a little tired. That's all. I didn't get much sleep last night."
"Oh? Not having second thoughts about the wedding, I hope."
"No. I had a nightmare."
"What about?"
"I'm behind the wheel of a car, and I pull up in front of a church."
"A church? Are you sure you're not having second thoughts?"
Since the upcoming nuptials were foremost on her mind, Sally naturally assumed such was the case with Gordon.
"No. It's the same nightmare I've had hundreds of times in the past. It started long before I met you."
"What's so terrifying about it?"
"I pull up in front of a church and want to drive away," he replied. "I'm desperate to get as far from the building as possible, but I have no control over what I'm doing."
"What is it about the church that frightens you?" Sally asked.
"I don't know. I always wake up before I get out of the vehicle."
"Does this dream have anything to do with your fear of cars?"
"I suppose it does. Look, why don't we order and forget about my silly dreams."
"They're not silly if they keep you awake at night."
"Let's just forget about them, okay?"
"You never talk about your phobia."
"You're afraid of spiders. Do you want to talk about tarantulas over dinner?"
"It's not the same thing. My fear of spiders doesn't control my life."
The uncomfortable look in her fiancé's eyes told her that she had said too much, so she quickly changed the subject.
Later that night Sally was sleeping peacefully in Gordon's arms, when she was suddenly awakened by his cries.
"Honey, wake up," she said, shaking him gently.
He bolted up in bed, his heart pounding. In the soft glow of the nightlight, Sally saw a thin layer of perspiration glisten on his skin.
"Did you have another nightmare?" she asked, snuggling up next to him.
Gordon nodded his head, trying to compose himself.
"Was it like the others?"
"Yes. Only this time I finally got out of the car."
* * *
Every night thereafter Gordon Pullman woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, often screaming hysterically. Sally suggested he ask his doctor for sleeping pills, but fearing their addictive nature, he declined.
Three days before the wedding the couple was to meet with the minister who was to perform the ceremony. Sally drove home after work, and then she and Gordon walked to the church. As he neared St. Michael's, Gordon's pace slowed.
"What's wrong?" his fiancée asked.
Fragments of his nightmare were coming back to him, unbidden.
"I remember getting out of the car," he explained. "I stood at the base of the steps, motionless, afraid to ascend."
"It was a dream—that's all!"
Gordon saw the pleading look in Sally's eyes, and made himself, for her sake, walk toward the church. Like in his dream, he stood at the bottom of the steps. Despite the fear that gripped him, he forced himself to ascend.
Two feet ahead of him, Sally chattered happily about their honeymoon plans. At the top step, she reached for the door handle. As she opened it, she heard a strangled cry come from behind her, and Gordon suddenly fell at her feet. As a trained nurse, Sally was not one to panic in an emergency. She took her fiancé's pulse, got her cell phone out of her handbag and called 911.
While waiting for word of Gordon's condition, Sally thumbed through the pages of a nine-month-old fashion magazine, barely noticing the clothes and accessories on display.
"Sally! You're the last person I expected to see here."
"Hi, Sarah," the nurse greeted Dr. Ryerson, the emergency room physician. "Have you any word on Gordon's condition?"
"I ran the usual tests, and they all came back negative. It appears he suffered from an anxiety attack, not at all uncommon for someone who is about to be married."
"Then we can go through with the wedding?"
"I won't do anything to stop you. I've prescribed a mild sedative. That ought to prevent another attack from occurring. Once he gets dressed you can take him home."
* * *
Two days before the wedding, Gordon's parents arrived from New Jersey. The elder Mr. Pullman, after being told of his son's recent trip to the emergency room, was able to shed some light on his unusual medical history.
"When he was eleven years old, he and his mother were in a car accident," Sally's soon-to-be father-in-law confided one afternoon while his son was at work. "It wasn't a serious one; no one was hurt. But it must have troubled Gordon because when he got behind the wheel of my old Ford Galaxy for the first time, he froze. He wouldn't turn the key in the ignition, refusing to start the engine. Needless to say, he never got his license."
"That's about the time his nightmares began," Gordon's mother added. "Oh, it was terrible at first! He'd wake up screaming night after night for weeks on end. They would gradually fade away, but eventually something would trigger them, and they'd return full force."
"Did he ever tell you what the dreams were about?"
"Something about driving down the road and stopping in front of a church," Mrs. Pullman replied. "He was frightened of the dream because he was unable to control his own actions."
"Which probably goes back to the accident when he was eleven," Mr. Pullman hypothesized. "As a passenger and as a child, he had no way of controlling the car."
"I didn't have control of the car either," his wife added. "There was a patch of ice, and the car slid into a fence. It was only minor damage. I don't know why it would traumatize someone."
It was apparent to Sally, that Gordon's parents did not agree that their son's fear of cars stemmed from the childhood collision. Not wanting the couple's disagreement to escalate to an argument, she tactfully changed the subject.
* * *
The day preceding the wedding was a busy one for Sally. Despite months of planning, there were hundreds of last minute details for the bride to attend to. In answer to her prayers, the weather forecast called for sunny skies. However, on the eve of her wedding, a heavy rain put a damper on the rehearsal dinner.
After an enjoyable and delicious meal at the Sons of Liberty Tavern, Sally handed her car keys to Gordon's parents.
"You take my car," she offered. "I'll walk with Gordon and meet you at the church for the rehearsal."
"But it's pouring out there!" Mrs. Pullman objected.
"I brought an umbrella," Sally said. "Besides, I'm getting used to walking. I must have lost ten pounds since I began seeing your son."
Although he was in high spirits, Gordon became uneasy when he rounded a corner and the church came into view. Sally immediately noticed the change and wished she'd brought the pills Dr. Ryerson had prescribed.
"Are you going to be all right?" she asked.
"I don't know why I'm feeling this way," he replied, his voice indicating that he was clearly agitated. "I want to get married. I have absolutely no reservations."
The young couple stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at the door. Inside the church, the minister and the wedding party were waiting for them.
"Take your time," Sally said. "They can't start without us."
"I'm ready," Gordon replied and bravely began climbing.
Again, as in his dream, he got as far as the open church door. For the second time that week, he collapsed on the top step.
Dr. Sarah Ryerson was surprised to see him back at the emergency room.
"Didn't the sedative I prescribed for him work?" she asked.
"He didn't take it," Sally sheepishly admitted. "I forgot to bring them to the rehearsal, but, trust me, he'll take one before the wedding tomorrow."
Sarah looked at her watch. She was going off duty in half an hour and had plans to meet Lionel Penn for dinner. It suddenly occurred to her, that Gordon's anxiety problems might be more in Lionel's area of expertise than her own.
"Has Gordon ever consulted a psychiatrist about his phobia?" she asked Sally.
"I doubt it. He doesn't like to talk about it, not even with me."
"Do you think he would be willing to talk to Lionel?"
"That's an excellent idea!" Sally exclaimed. "Do you think Dr. Penn could see him tonight? Just for a quick consultation?"
"We can ask him. He'll be here soon to pick me up."
* * *
"You appear to be suffering from amaxophobia," Lionel concluded after speaking with both Gordon and Sally. "In layman's terms, amaxophobia is a fear of driving or being a passenger in a motor vehicle. In some cases, that includes not only cars and buses but also trains."
"What causes this condition?" Gordon asked.
"Normally, it affects people who have been involved in or have witnessed a serious car accident. Many people who have lost loved ones in such a way suffer from it as well. It's quite common, affecting about a million and a half people."
"Would therapy help?" Sally inquired.
"In many cases it does. Of course, every person is different. What works for one won't necessarily work for another."
"Even if it did work in my case," Gordon pointed out, "I'm getting married tomorrow. I doubt even you, Dr. Penn, with all your knowledge and experience with phobias, can work that fast."
"It's not just the wedding that concerns me," Sally explained. "If there's a chance you can get over your fear, you ought to consider therapy. Wouldn't it be nice to get in a car after work and be home in less than half the time it takes us now?"
"What I could do," Lionel offered, "is put you under hypnosis and see if there's something in your subconscious mind that could be triggering these panic attacks. It might at least help you get inside the church tomorrow."
"But aren't you supposed to be going down to Boston with Sarah?" Sally asked.
"We can do that some other time. We'll grab a bite to eat locally tonight."
"We owe you a dinner then," Sally insisted. "If you and Sarah don't have any plans tomorrow, why don't you come to the wedding? The reception is being held at Chez Pierre."
"I'll check with Sarah, but you can count on me. I never pass up a chance for a good meal."
* * *
Gordon was taken to a vacant room in the hospital. The lights were turned off and the curtains closed. Sally, who had been instructed to remain still and silent at all times, sat behind her fiancé.
"Let's begin," Lionel said softly once Gordon was under. "You're driving a car, and you see a church up ahead."
A visible change came over the patient. His breathing rate increased to the point where Sally feared he might hyperventilate. The psychiatrist noticed it, too.
"You are not actually inside the car," Lionel reassured him. "You are only a casual observer. You have nothing to fear. Do you understand me? Nothing can hurt you."
Gordon nodded his head, and within moments, his breathing returned to normal.
"Good," the doctor continued. "You're in a car, you see the church and you pull over to the side of the road."
"Yes," Gordon said, remaining calm this time.
"You get out of the car and walk to the base of the steps. What happens next?"
"People begin to surround me. They're coming from my right and my left and even from behind me. It seems like a mass of people. They press forward, and I have no way of escaping them. I'm swept up in the crowd against my will and have no choice but to ascend the steps."
"What do you do then?"
"I want to leave. I want to return to my car and drive away as fast as I can, but there's no way I can get through the crowd of people that keeps pushing forward. I'm afraid I'll be crushed against the door. I reach out my hand and turn the knob."
"What are you feeling as the door opens?"
"Relief that I won't be crushed and then ...."
"Please continue."
"I see the people in the church, and I'm filled with a sense of dread."
"Why? Who is inside?"
"A minister and .... I seem to have interrupted the service."
"The minister is conducting his weekly service?"
"No. It was ...."
Again, Gordon's breathing became labored.
"Remember what I told you: you're just an observer."
Gordon calmed down considerably, but he also fell silent. Dr. Penn had to prompt him with questions.
"What was it that upset you inside the church? Was it a funeral? Did you know the deceased? Was he or she killed in a car accident?"
"No, no. It wasn't a funeral. It was a wedding."
Lionel glanced at Sally, who closed her eyes to fight back the tears that threatened to fall. While he sympathized with her feelings, he had to pursue the matter further if he hoped to get to the bottom of Gordon's panic attacks.
"What is it about the wedding that frightens you?"
"I can't see the faces."
"What faces?"
"All the faces. The people in the pews, the minister—none of them have faces, just emptiness where their features should be."
"What about the bride and groom? Do they have faces?"
"I don't know. They're facing the altar. All I can see is the back of their heads."
"And then what happens?"
"I feel myself being pushed forward again. The people in the pews stand up and they come toward me as well. I'm surrounded on three sides by people pushing me forward, toward the altar. I can't! Don't make me!"
Despite Sally's presence in the room, he had to ask the question.
"Are you afraid you're being pushed into marriage?"
"I reluctantly move forward," Gordon continued, not answering the psychiatrist's question. "I'm inches away from the bride and groom. Something's terribly wrong with their clothes."
"What's wrong with them?"
"Her gown and veil aren't white; they're black."
For the first time in his years of practicing psychiatry, Lionel wondered if he'd misdiagnosed his patient's condition. Perhaps it wasn't amaxophobia that brought about Gordon's panic attacks, after all.
"And the groom isn't wearing a tuxedo. It looks like ...."
"Like what?"
"My suit, my black suit."
"Are you the groom? Is Sally the bride?"
"I don't know. I still can't see their faces. But the people .... Why can't they stop pushing me? No. No, please don't turn around. I don't want to see your faces. I don't want ...."
At the sound of Gordon's scream of terror, Sally finally broke down in tears.
"Do you want me to stop?" Lionel whispered to the crying woman.
"No," she replied. "I've got to know what it is that's frightening him."
Lionel turned his attention back to his patient.
"Did you see the faces of the bride and groom? Who are they?"
"Not who ... what. The bride and groom are skeletons."
* * *
"What has any of this got to do with my fear of cars?" Gordon asked after he listened to the tape made while he was under hypnosis.
Not even Lionel Penn could make sense of Gordon's dream.
"Maybe his phobia was not what caused the panic attack," Sally suggested.
"How do you explain the fact that the dream always begins with me driving a car?" her fiancé countered.
"That's a question we can explore if you decide to seek therapy," the psychiatrist suggested. "It's odd that someone who suffers from amaxophobia would have a dream in which he wants to get in a car and drive away from some perceived danger. It seems that your fear of what you'll discover inside the church is greater than your fear of cars."
"There was a wedding going on inside the church," Sally said. "It seems pretty clear to me what he was afraid of: getting married."
"Not necessarily," Lionel argued. "Perhaps the skeletal faces of the bride and groom represent death, not marriage."
"Enough," Gordon sighed. "If there's a chance therapy will help straighten me out, then I'm all for it. I'll schedule my first appointment after we get back from our honeymoon. But for now, I want to go home and get a good night's sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow and get ready for our wedding."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Sally asked. "Maybe we ought to postpone it until you learn what it is you're actually afraid of."
"I may not know what repressed memory is playing havoc with my brain, but I do know that I want to marry you. And I don't want to wait one day longer than necessary. So just give me two of Dr. Ryerson's happy pills and meet me at the altar."
* * *
Since Sarah did not have to go on duty until 9:00 p.m., she agreed to accompany Lionel to Sally and Gordon's wedding. Both of them were relieved when they saw the sacristy door open and Gordon and his best man walk toward the altar.
"I guess the sedative did the trick," Sarah observed. "I half-expected him to have another anxiety attack."
"Just as a precaution, he entered through the rear door of the church," Lionel confided. "Hopefully, he won't have any adverse reaction to leaving by the main door."
Despite the bride and groom having missed the rehearsal, the wedding went smoothly. After the ceremony was concluded, Sarah and Lionel joined the line at the back of the church to offer congratulations and best wishes to the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Pullman.
"What's this?" Lionel asked when he saw small containers of birdseed by the door.
"You throw it at the bride and groom when they leave the church."
"What happened to throwing rice?"
"Some people still throw rice. Some blow bubbles with little bottles of bubble soap."
Not wanting to break with tradition, Lionel and Sarah each took a small cup and waited on the lawn beside the steps. Minutes later, the couple exited without incident, in a hail of birdseed.
"They made it!" Sarah said with a smile as she watched the couple walk toward the horse drawn carriage that was waiting in the road in front of the church. "They're married, and Sally can finally stop worrying that something will go wrong."
No sooner did Sarah stop speaking than a car, its discordant music blaring out of its open windows, drove around the corner at such a high rate of speed that it nearly flipped over.
The horse, frightened by the sound of screeching tires and loud music, tried to run but only succeeded in pulling the carriage into the center of the street, thus blocking the road. The inexperienced driver behind the wheel of the speeding car slammed his foot on the brake pedal and turned his wheel sharply to the right, trying to avoid the horse and carriage. Unable to stop, the car jumped the curb and headed directly for the newlyweds.
* * *
When Lionel walked through the door of St. Michael's Church, he stepped into a different atmosphere from the one he'd encountered three days earlier. Sarah tightened her grip on his arm as they walked into the vestibule.
What a difference three days have made, he thought as he glanced at the black-clad mourners.
"It's all so tragic," Sarah whispered as she stood beside Gordon Pullman's casket.
Lionel, meanwhile, looked at Sally's pretty face and tried to recall the smile that had lit up her features just moments before the accident.
The same minister who had officiated at the wedding performed the funeral service.
Afterward, the mourners, nearly all of whom had been at the wedding, left the pews and filed down the aisle.
As he waited to exit the church, Lionel heard Debussy's "Claire de Lune" playing softly over the audio system.
"Last time it was Pachelbel's Canon," he said.
"Followed by 'Here Comes the Bride,'" Sarah added sadly.
They entered the vestibule where Gordon's parents invited them to stop by their son's house for something to eat after the graveside service.
Finally, they spoke to the widow.
"I can't tell you how sorry we are," Sarah said, speaking for both Lionel and herself.
"Thank you," Sally replied calmly.
"I'm glad to see you're holding up so well," Lionel said.
"You can thank Sarah for that. I took two of the sedatives she gave to Gordon."
Tears immediately came to her eyes at the mention of her dead husband's name.
"If there's anything I can do," Sarah offered.
"Thank you, but there's nothing anyone can do now. The only person who might have prevented Gordon's death was Gordon himself. He must have had a premonition of it years ago, when he first got behind the wheel of his father's car, but he couldn't, or wouldn't, see it for what is was. I can't help believing that if just once in all the times he had those nightmares he would have found the courage to walk up the steps of the church, go inside and confront the bride and groom, he might have prevented the tragedy that occurred on our wedding day."
Lionel and Sarah tended to agreed with the widow despite the fact that most doctors didn't believe in premonitions. Most doctors, however, did not live in Puritan Falls where the rules that govern other people's lives did not always apply.
Even someone who doesn't suffer from amaxophobia would be frightened of this car!
