Incelbordination, Chapter 16

Oswald traced his fingers along the healing scars on his hands, careful not to pick at the scabs. Though they still made him wince a little, they were healing quite nicely. He might be back to punching a sand bag in no time at all, and no, he wasn’t talking about his English teacher. Any ill feelings he had toward her had disappeared now that he had the benefit of hindsight. A C- on a project was nothing compared to having another human being’s life in his hands.

Though his mind was the loudest it had ever been, the space between himself and Nikita Johnson remained tranquil and quiet. This kind of silence allowed the two of them to relax as they drove down the highway together. If it wasn’t for Oswald having a burning question, he could fall right back to sleep. “What’s your opinion on how to handle this?”

“What’s yours?”

“Well, it depends. What’s going on at school right now?”

Nikita sighed and shook her head. “Everybody’s in shock. The construction crew are going through all of the damaged buildings and roads. Nobody feels like going to their classes. Trauma therapists are everywhere. You should consider seeing one, Oswald. I know I will. From what I hear, the college is paying for their sessions.”

Resting his face on his hand, Oswald said, “I don’t know, Nikita. I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing lately: opening myself up to people. But the more I open myself up, the more I get hurt. Talking about my problems never actually brought me healing. It just made shit worse. It made me relive the worst parts of my life.”

“Yeah, you definitely have some PTSD going on. You’re not going to find your healing just by isolating yourself and puffing away. You need to put yourself out there. Trust me, I know how lonely college life can be.”

Oswald cleared his throat and asked, “Speaking of puffing away, why did you agree to provide the cops with my prescription if you’re such a standup straightedge person?”

Nikita sighed. “I guess it was the only way I could pay you back for everything you’ve done for me. You’ve saved my life twice and all I’ve done for you is get you locked up. That hardly seems fair, and definitely not indicative of the straightedge way. I mean, I don’t agree with what you’re doing, but who am I to tell you otherwise?”

Nikita turned the radio on and fiddled with the knob until she found the new age station, which happened to be playing the piece of acoustic guitar heaven known as “Your Heart Can Sing” by Bruce BecVar. Oswald closed his eyes and was on the edge of dozing off several times. “This is beautiful,” he said.

“You should listen to this kind of music more often. Sometimes a heavy metal scream just won’t cut it. Everybody needs to take the edge off every now and then. Who knows? Maybe if you listened to new age music while smoking one of your joints…” She shrugged her shoulders and smiled in lieu of finishing her sentence.

“It’d be much easier to relax if I knew Antero was locked up.”

Nikita patted Oswald on the head. “You and me both, buddy. You and me both.”

The comforting pats turned into a gentle head scratch, which caused the dwarf to sink into his seat further and get even more comfy. He couldn’t get too comfy in case he got an involuntary hard-on. He crossed his stubby legs for added insurance. He also couldn’t understand how he deserved such a wonderful nail massage considering his hair was probably greasier than McDonald’s fries. Speaking of McDonald’s…

“I can’t believe she hung herself.”

“Who?”

Oswald’s eyes shot up as he unintentionally let the cat out of the bag. “She, uh…she was, uh….just a friend.”

Ending the massage and pointing her fingers, Nikita said, “That’s why you need to see a trauma therapist. You can’t even get your story straight.”

“That’s all well and good, but what can a therapist do for me that my marijuana isn’t already doing? I mean…nothing seems to work these days. No talking. No Mary-Jane. Not a damn thing. It’s like I’m destined to live with this shit for the rest of my life. I fucking hate it.”

Patting the dwarf’s shoulder, Nikita said, “That’s the nature of mental illnesses. They’re nothing like the scars on your hands or anywhere else on your body for that matter. These scars don’t heal overnight. This is something you have to work on and you can’t do it alone. Please, Oswald, see a therapist. If not for your own sake, then at least for mine. You remember what I told you back at that warehouse, right?”

“…I am loved…”

“Yes, and that’s the truth. I mean, do you really believe that the entire world is out to get you? Every single person walking this planet has an agenda to make your life miserable? Every last one of them? Not everyone is a bully, Oswald. It doesn’t really matter that you’re short. Is being short really worse than being evil? Or shallow? Or stupid? Or vain? Your dwarfism is just a body type. It doesn’t determine who you are as a human being. And yes, Oswald, you ARE a human being. Start treating yourself like one.”

The dwarf breathed a heavy sigh and wiped little droplets from his eyes. Maybe there was some truth in what Nikita told him. Maybe the depressive and anxious voices in his head were a bunch of lying thieves trying to rob him of his happiness and potential. But as it was, there was no mediator between Oswald’s heart and mind. He wanted to get better. He wanted to live a normal life. But every time he started to believe, something was raped and taken from him. He wiped more tears from his eyes while Nikita rubbed his shoulders some more.

“It’s okay to cry in front of me, Oswald. I won’t judge you. I just need to know one thing before I drop you off tonight. Who was the woman who hung herself?”

Trying to steady his trembling mouth, the dwarf said, “Not a woman. A girl. Fourteen years old. Her name was Jessica Bradley. She, uh…worked at McDonald’s. Not as a fry cook, but, uh…”

Nikita’s eyes widened. “Oswald, did you try to proposition her?”

“When she said she was fourteen, I took off running. I’d never do that to someone like her, Nikita, you have to believe me. Antero put me up to it.”

“If I find out you’re attracted to teenage girls, I’m going to…”

“I’m not, damn it!” Oswald belted, opening a rift of silence between them for a few long seconds. “I’m telling you, I didn’t have sex with her! I may have been desperate, but I’m not a monster! You said yourself that I should start treating myself like a human being! Well, that’s what I did when I ran away from Jessica and turned her down for sex!”

Before Nikita could formulate a potentially judgmental answer, she pulled up to Oswald’s dorm and said, “Here we are. Get some rest. You’re going to need it.” The dwarf couldn’t get out of the car fast enough, snorting mucous and wiping tears the entire way to his front door. “Oswald! Please…be careful. And don’t forget what I told you…you are loved…”

Nikita drove away while Oswald shook his head. “Why do I not believe her?” he asked himself. “Oh yeah, because I’m fucking anxious and depressed, that’s why. What was I thinking?”

He entered the unlocked dorm commons and saw that it was dark and nobody was home. “Where’s the goddamn light switch?” he muttered while fumbling around.

He didn’t have to fumble for long. The whole commons illuminated while a familiar voice in the background asked a question Oswald was used to hearing by now: “Need a light?”

“No…No…No! This isn’t possible!”

“Evidence in the old eyes, my friend. No magic tricks. No Matrix bullshit. Nothing up my sleeves. Just a nice hard swallow of some good old black pills. It’s me, Oswald. Antero fucking Magnus, Supreme Gentleman extraordinaire. How’s that knot on your forehead feeling? Or better yet…how’re your knuckles feeling after punching a glass door? That’s right, buddy. I caught you with your pants down this time! You’re dead!”