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“Julian, dear boy, you’ll know when you’re ready to speak. Your heart and mind will be in sync. Don’t force yourself.”
My heart and mind need to be in sync.
Repeat, my heart and mind need to be in sync.
I slam my laptop shut.
My frustration and anxiety over not receiving a response from Mr. Grimmer has sent me into a spiral of self-doubt. Fuck that no-news-is-good-news bullshit. No news means I’m a big fat failure, and my dreams, once again, have been flushed down the drain along with my last stash of coke.
It’s a quarter to seven in the evening, only fifteen minutes until I have to leave for the weekly meeting. The majority of this week, I spent in the office without any leads, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be fired any day now. Considering my paycheck isn’t enough to cover my rent, my eviction is inevitable despite convincing the landlord to give me more time. Life sure is one big bowl of roses.
Once again, I find myself sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Note to self—invent c
omfortable plastic chairs. How can you open your mind to healing when your nuts are squashed against your dick and shoved somewhere up your ass?
Hazel walks in and sits down with her Bible in her lap. She closes her eyes, and I watch as her lips move. Making the sign of the cross, she opens her eyes from what must have been a silent prayer.
Fred walks in and takes his usual seat, followed by Jerry and Penny arguing again. I don’t bother to listen to their conversation, assuming they’ll air it out for everyone to hear shortly.
Penny takes a seat beside me. Today she’s wearing a bright yellow dress that has pictures of candy on it. Her platform pumps painted with the union jack, give her height, and she’s towering over everyone in this room. Her hair is bright blue—maybe not hair, more like a wig. I’m disturbing myself with how much attention I am paying to detail.
Hazel welcomes everyone back, but I’m quick to scan the room and see the mystery hooded girl isn’t here. I am a little disappointed. I hoped I’d have gotten a glimpse of her face today.
Jerry is profusely scratching and telling everyone he’s out of here. Once again, Hazel goes through the motions to calm him.
Fred tells his story again.
It’s Groundhog Day, and I’m Bill Murray.
Perhaps the only thing keeping my attention is Penny trying to pull her dress up above her thigh to entice me.
Scrotum and dick. If you got them, I’m not interested.
Sometime during Fred’s story, mystery girl walks in. Her hood is off, and her bright red hair stands out. It’s cut short in a bob style with her bangs a longer length falling below her eyes. She continues to wear the black hooded jacket in the sweltering heat. I need to look away before she catches me.
Hazel begins to ask us about how our task went, the one thing that made us happy this week.
Fred is first to answer. “I watched a rerun of Seinfeld. It was the episode where George ate an onion. I laughed for an hour. Then my neighbor banged on my door, and we got into an argument, so maybe I shouldn’t laugh so much.” His smile fades from wry to pensive.
Hazel is quick to praise him. “Fred, laughter is the best medicine. Don’t be discouraged by your neighbor’s discontent.”
Jerry grunts, prompting Hazel to ask him the same question. “Nothing made me happy, except for when I saw this kid fall off a bike. Yeah, maybe then I snickered. Kid deserved it, was showing off and all.”
Hazel chooses her words carefully. “Jerry, we talked about seeking joy in others’ pain.”
“Yeah, so what? Kid thought he was King Shit.”
“He’s just a child, he has yet to learn the consequences of his actions,” Hazel reminds him.
“Big fucking deal. I was a kid, too, okay? Do you think they cared about what they were doing to me?” he answers back in a sinister tone.
“Jerry, who was there to show them right from wrong? They knew no better. Your brothers felt the pain you did, and unfortunately, their way of dealing with the hurt and resentment was to take it out on you.”
Jerry pulls his knees to his chest and begins to rock back and forth.
Hazel softens her tone. “We must understand a cycle can be broken. The actions of the past don’t need to repeat themselves. We need to look at the whole picture, understand the story and what lies beneath.”
She turns to look at me and gives me a slight nod. Great. It’s now or never, right?
