The doorbell made faint music as a red-haired woman stepped through the door of the massage clinic. She pulled her black hoodie over her shoulders and crossed her arms. Crystals in the window spun and refracted rainbows over the walls. The bookshelves were busy with books on witchcraft and healing, and candles that looked like they were about to topple over. A black cat brushed up against the woman’s ankles, which made her startle a bit. Agatha watched closely as this woman studied the room. The blonde receptionist was babbling in Agatha’s ear about some creepy dude who had tried to grab her coworker’s ass while she was working (“the fifth this year, I mean honestly—”), but Agatha interrupted her to address the woman who had just walked in.
“Hey hon, do you have an appointment?”
The woman looked caught off guard. Agatha made eye contact with her for the first time and realized that her eyes were red and blotchy. Agatha stood and moved slowly in front of the counter, throwing her hair back over her shoulders.
“Um, no, is that required?” the woman asked with a shaky and vaguely Eastern European accent.
“No,” Agatha said with a laugh. “I was just hangin’ out with Dottie over here as though I had nothing better to do since my 4:00 client abandoned me. I’m Agatha, by the way. I specialize in trauma-informed massage therapy, but I’m schooled in pretty much anything. Do you want to follow me into the consultation room and have a little chat about what kind of services you’re interested in?”
“Yeah, that sounds great,” said the woman. Agatha led her down the hallway all smiles. The black cat followed.
“Sorry hon, I don’t think I ever got your name?”
“Wanda,” the woman said.
“Beautiful name,” said Agatha as she invited Wanda into the consultation office. It smelled like incense.
Wanda was quiet and didn’t reveal a lot, but Agatha was able to glean some details from their conversation and the nonverbal cues Wanda gave. She would want to provide her with a massage that was as gentle and non-invasive as possible. After Wanda agreed to the treatment, Agatha guided her into the treatment room, which was dark and clean.
“Okay Wanda, I’m going to step out for a moment and give you the chance to undress and sit face-down on this table, okay? Be back in five.”
But when Agatha moved to leave, Wanda stopped her.
“Oh— I actually, um. Is that required? Undressing? I’m not super comfortable with that.”
Agatha thought for a moment. “No, it isn’t required. We have a lot of clients who aren’t okay with removing their clothes, and for a variety of reasons. How comfortable would you be with a hospital gown with the top buttons on the back undone? There is no pressure at all on you to be anything but fully clothed, but that is another option for you to consider.”
Wanda let out a sigh of relief. “Yes, please, that sounds great.”
After Wanda had dressed in the hospital gown and situated herself on the table, Agatha checked in before undoing each button she needed to undo. By the time she’d gotten through to the seventh button from the top, Wanda was giggling a bit at her constant questioning. Agatha smiled. She lotioned up her hands and began working slowly and gently on Wanda’s upper muscles.
As she worked her way beneath the shoulder blades, her hands met with some tension. She paused and moved her thumb in light circles over Wanda’s skin.
“Hey love, it feels like you might be holding your breath a bit. Can you take a deep deep breath for me?”
Agatha felt Wanda begin to inhale, but stop short of a complete breath. Her exhales were uneven. It was like she was holding her breath for one second every time she tried to take a deep breath.
“Good,” Agatha said. “Just focus on your breathing. You got it.”
Agatha worked on redirecting energy and getting Wanda’s muscles to relax. Wanda’s body felt like it was bracing itself, in a way that Agatha had only felt in clients with long histories of trauma. She kept her hands moving.
Forty minutes into the session, Agatha froze. Either her mind was playing tricks on her or she could hear faint sniffling. She decided her mind was playing tricks on her and continued to knead. But when the body under her hands started to shake and Wanda let out a sharp sob, Agatha paused again, keeping her hands on Wanda’s back as she kneeled down to look at her. She didn’t say anything for a beat, and rubbed Wanda’s back and neck gently, which seemed to make the woman sob more. Wanda cried and cried. Agatha ran her fingers over the client’s hair and shoulder.
“Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re safe here, shh shh shhh. Emotional release is completely normal, especially if you’ve been holding some big feelings in your body for a long time,” Agatha whispered. “Is this okay, sweetie? I can stop and you can take a break if you want to, or I can keep going. It’s up to you.”
Wanda rolled over to her side a bit to face Agatha. She was closing her arms back in over herself and shaking violently, but Agatha kept a hand on her side. Wanda took a deep shaky breath.
“No, please. Don’t stop,” Wanda said haltingly.
“Okay, okay,” Agatha said quickly in response. She stood back up and used her left hand to wipe a stray tear from her eye. Then she gently moved Wanda back onto her stomach so that she could continue with the treatment.
The rest of the session continued in this manner.
“My husband died last month,” Wanda said.
“I’m so sorry.”
“My kids died too,” she added. “They were— they were twins. Ten years old.”
“Oh god. I’m so sorry, honey.”
At five o’clock, Agatha ended the session and explained where Wanda could go to pay. She offered to refer the woman to a trauma therapist in the area, but Wanda declined.
“See you next week, toots?” Agatha joked as Wanda was headed out the door.
“Next week,” Wanda said. Then she was off.