"They don't have teddy bears," she said, looking at the booth that Laura had just walked from.

"I was looking at the crystal pendants but it's impossible to win. Come on, let's go find something else."

"No, wait a minute." Crystal walked up and leaned against the rail, watching and learning how the game was played. Reaching into her pocket, she put a quarter on the silver betting square. The barker continued to call for people to join in and win a prize but when no others were forthcoming, he was forced to hand her the ball. "Throw it into the pit. If your money is on the winning color, you win choice of that color's prizes."

Crystal threw the ball, frowning when it landed on a brown square. Laura put her hand on the blonde woman's shoulder. "Come on, we'll find something else to play."

"What would you do with it if I win?"

"I've always thought it would be nice to have one hanging from my rear view mirror," Laura said, letting her hand return to her side. "But you can't win this one. It's a trick. There's only one square on the whole board and it's in the corner. That's impossible to get to." The attendant overheard the dark haired woman's complaint and snorted, turning the pan around so the silver cup was away from the corner.

"You gonna put your money down or keep trying to drive away my customers?" the barker grumbled.

"Would you really hang it from your rear view if I win it?" Crystal asked, putting a quarter on the silver tile.

"Of course I would. Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno. Usually people hang things that are important to them there, like graduation tassels or stuff like that. From a friend or something." Realizing how she sounded, Crystal took the ball and tossed it into the pit before pulling her cigarettes out of her pocket and lighting one. "Exactly why I would put it there," Laura said quietly. "I always display gifts I get from friends." She returned the smile she saw on Crystal's face. This is going to take a while, she thought to herself, convinced that the cute blonde would spend her last dollar to win one a pendant. It didn't take her last dollar but it was ten dollars and three beers later before Crystal finally managed to make the ball fall in the silver cup. "All right!" she yelled before being engulfed in Laura's bear hug.

"You did it!" the writer said excitedly as she stepped back. The barker, having gotten more money than he had expected, smiled as well and picked up the display rack of pendants for the dark haired woman to choose from. Laura chose a multi-faceted octogonal shaped snowflake design. "Oh, it's very pretty," she whispered, holding it up to the light and turning it this way and that to see the rainbow of colors reflected within. Not wanting to put it in her fanny pack, she checked the length of nylon attached to it and hung it around her neck. Crystal simply leaned against the booth and smiled, finishing off the last of her beer.

"I'm glad you like it," she said, fighting off a yawn.

"I do, very much," Laura assured, fingering the pendant. "Thank you."

"No prob. What do you want to do now?"

Having seen the stifled yawn, Laura decided to call the evening to an end. It was already after nine and she still had to try and get some writing in. "Why don't we go on one or two more rides and then call it a night? We're still ahead with what we won at the blackjack table."

"I guess it is getting late," Crystal said. "But let's do some more rides first."

"Sure. You name it, we're on it," she agreed.

A huge smile crossed the stripper's face. "I'll race you to the pirate ship."

"Do we get to sit at the end this time?" Laura asked hopefully.

"How about halfway between center and the end this time and all the way in the back next time?" "Deal," she said, following Crystal across the Midway to the thrill ride.

Chapter Sixth

Crystal smiled at the open parking space in front of the office building. A quick glance at her watch told her she had less than five minutes to get parked and up to Jenny's office for her session. After parking the car and putting several quarters into the meter, she headed through the revolving door into the building.

"Good morning, Miss Sheridan," Catherine said, marking Crystal's arrival off on the schedule chart. "Miss Foster will be right with you."

She nodded and gave a slight grunt in acknowledgement before sitting on one of the chairs near the wall. I need more coffee, she thought to herself, wishing now that she hadn't spent an extra twenty minutes sleeping this morning. Of course she had wanted an early appointment due to Jenny's rule about not drinking or smoking pot before a session. Guess I can't complain. At the sound of a door opening, she looked up and saw Jenny.

"Good morning, Crystal. Shall we get started?"

"Sit where you want," Jenny said as she closed the door behind them. Crystal's choices were still the same, the couch, chair, or bean bags. Without realizing why, she chose the chair, tucking her legs up beneath her on the thick leather cushion. "So how are you this morning?" the therapist asked as she took a seat on the couch, a clipboard with several papers on her lap.

"Fine," she wiped her hands on her pant legs, surprised at the feeling of her body temperature rising. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced since being called into the principal's office in high school. "I could use some more coffee, though."

"Help yourself. There's a pot on the table over there in the corner." Jenny said. "If you like, you can bring in a mug of your own to use." "Naw, thanks anyway, Doc." She stood up and crossed over to the machine, pulling a white Styrofoam cup off the stack. "I don't get attached to things like mugs. Besides, most of what I had burned up in the fire."

"It doesn't hurt to have a favorite coffee cup, Crystal. Something special for you. Did you have any special things when you were a child?"

Crystal stopped pouring cream into her coffee and looked down at the mocha and black swirls blending together. "I didn't have anything special when I was a kid, Doc. Just Patty." Tossing the plastic stirrer in the trash, she went back to her chair and looked at her friend/therapist. "So is that why I'm so fucked up? Because I never had a cup of my own?"

"I would rather you didn't think of yourself as damaged goods, Crystal," Jenny admonished gently. "Speaking of damage. Let's talk about that awful looking bruise on your face."

"I told you at the game Saturday that it was nothing."

"And I believe I told you what I thought of that answer. No copping out, Crystal, remember? So who hit you and why?"

"Some punk assed college guy showing off for his buddies. He wanted more than a look and when I tried to get away he hit me." "How did it make you feel?"

Oh great. Here we go with the touchy feely questions. "How do you think it made me feel?" she answered, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at the diplomas on the wall. They were too far away to read but it was better than having to look Jenny in the eye. "I'd rather you told me than guess," Jenny countered. "Let's make the question even easier. Forget about that one incident. How does stripping make you feel in general?"

She shrugged. "It's a job."

"So is being a therapist."

Crystal caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to see the brown haired woman writing something. "What?" "Hmm?"

"What are you writing?"

"I'm just making a note, Crystal. There's so much to talk about that sometimes I make notes to go back and focus on a particular subject." "So what'd you write?" She was surprised when the therapist handed over the clipboard.

"See for yourself. There's nothing in there that is secret from you," Jenny said. "Anything written in there is only to help you, not hurt."

Crystal took the clipboard and looked at the top paper. A lined form showed today's date and several scribbled words in Jenny's handwriting. She cringed at one word circled in blue ink. Notebook. "Um, I uh

  about the notebook. I don't get to the store much."

"It's not going to work," Jenny said as she rose from the couch and went to her desk. "I can't make this happen for you. You have to want to change enough to do the things you need to do." She opened a drawer and pulled out a composition book. "Here. Bring it with you each time. You don't have to show me what's in it if you don't want to but I do expect you to write in it each day."

Taking the notebook, Crystal opened it and flipped the pages. Stark white with thin blue lines loomed before her. "I

I'm not really good at writing." The book was closed and set on the stand next to her coffee.

"Think of it as a diary."

"Diaries are stupid. Why write down all your secrets just so someone else can find them?"

"Is that what you're afraid of?" Jenny returned to her casual position on the couch. "That someone will use your words against you?" "I wouldn't even know what to write about."

"Write about whatever comes to mind in whatever form you need it to be. Poetry, prose, a letter to an old friend, anything."

"Yeah, fine," she said, resigning herself to scribbling something in the notebook. Sensing a pause in the conversation, she picked up the cup of lukewarm coffee and took a sip.

"Are you comfortable?" Jenny asked, putting the clipboard down and sitting cross-legged on the couch. Crystal set the cup down and crossed her arms before nodding. "Good," the therapist continued. "Have you been reading your morning meditations?" Another nod. While she didn't take the time to think about the meaning of the passages, she did open the book each morning and glance at it. "So today's topic is about putting the blame where it belongs."

Uh oh. Crystal stiffened, shifting until her legs were tucked up beneath her. The feeling of being in the principal's office was returning with renewed force. "I know where the blame belongs," she said softly, her gaze returning to the safety of the cream colored diplomas on the wall.

"Where?"

"With him."

"Give him a name."

"Him. My mother's useless excuse for a husband."

"Your father."

Crystal grunted and took a deep breath.

"What did you call him?"

"You mean besides fucking asshole?" She shifted again, wishing she was allowed to smoke in the therapist's office.

"Besides that," Jenny said with a knowing smirk.

"We called him" It took some effort to get the word out. "

Daddy." Crystal made no effort to keep the venom out of her voice. "He didn't deserve to be called that. I hate the bastard." "Why?"

"You know why. I told you he hurt me and Patty."

"There are many ways to hurt someone, Crystal. What did he do?"

Her right foot began twitching nervously. "I dunno, everything I guess."

"You do know. No copouts."

Crystal turned and glared at the therapist. "He hit us," she said angrily. "He thought being our father gave him the right to beat the shit out of us whenever he wanted. That enough?" She looked back at the diplomas, waiting for the reaction to her outburst.

"You tell me," Jenny said calmly. "Are your nightmares about him hitting you and your sister?"

"They're about a lot of things," she shrugged, her anger deflated somewhat by the gentle tone directed at her. "Sometimes." "What are they about most of the time?"

The foot moved faster. "Different things." Just say it, the little voice in her head screamed. Go ahead. Shock her ass and tell her how he used to crawl into your bed at night. Tell her what a dirty little girl you were. Crystal's breathing increased, the walls of the large office seeming far too confining. "I-I gotta go," she said suddenly, rising from her chair.

"Crystal, wait." Jenny stood as well, the clipboard casually tossed on the couch.

"No, I have to go."

"You can end a session any time you feel you have to but I don't want you to run off because you're afraid to face feelings that come up in here." She reached around Crystal and picked up the notebook. "Remember that whatever you say in this room, whatever you write about in this book, it stays here. No one is going to use it against you or judge you for it." Handing the notebook to Crystal, she added "Besides, I have a feeling you do enough self-judging as it is."

While the walls seemed to stop closing in, the young woman still found herself unable to look Jenny in the eye, choosing instead to stare at the black and white marbled cover of the composition book. "You think so, huh Doc?"

"Yeah, I think so," Jenny said softly. Crystal tried not to flinch when she felt the soft pressure of the therapist's hand on her shoulder. "We're going to work on that." Releasing her grasp, Jenny moved back a step. "All right, I can see the trapped rabbit look in your eyes. Read your meditations, write in your journal, and most important of all, do something nice for yourself each day."