Page 80 of My Own Kind of Person

He doesn’t reply.

Mom hasn’t replied either. I don’t write again to ask if she’s coming because I don’t want her to feel bad when she realizes she missed it.

I go into the bathroom and lock myself in a stall. I type into my notes, The truth is that I miss my mother even though I see her almost every day. I miss my childhood when she was happy even though she was probably stressed. I miss a time that never happened and a person who never was. I see women as perfect and men as awful but the truth is that I have emotional problems.

I delete this and drop my head against the door, close my eyes, and let out a long groan.

When I stop, the sound continues.

I still hear the groan, but it gets deeper and louder.

“Good God,” someone mumbles from the next stall.

I recognize the voice.

I watch through the crack in my stall’s door as Joe Johnson walks out. He’s wearing his standard blue T-shirt. His short hair is thinning and gray, and there are bags under his eyes. He looks like an aged child.

“All right.” He paces the room. “I don’t know what to do and panicking won’t help.”

His hands are shaking. He lets out pained sounds. It’s a side of him he’s never shown onstage. A side that reminds me…of me.

He stops and stares at the wall, and I find myself counting.

One.

He keeps staring.

Two.

I want him to move.

Three.

One year my school went on a field trip to a forest where we climbed rock walls and did rope courses and zip lines. In one activity, you attach your harness to a sturdy rope, climb to a platform at the top of a tree, and jump off. You fall through the air and the rope catches you at a safe distance from the ground.

Four.

I’m scared of heights but I told myself to do it. I wanted to prove that my fears were wrong.

Five.

I climbed to the top of the tree, my arms and legs shaking. I crawled to the edge of the platform. Everyone below shouted to jump, and I closed my eyes and let myself fall.

Six.

I screamed the whole way down. The rope caught me and held me safely suspended in the air, but I kept screaming. I couldn’t feel safe even when I was.

Seven.

I want Joe to feel okay. I want someone to help him.

Eight.

I’m a bit surprised to realize I could be that someone.

Nine.

And I don’t have to wait ten seconds.