“Mother…please forgive me…I just had to get out all my pain
and suffering…remember I will always love you…I’m your…son….”
“That’s very sweet of you, Mr. George, but I’m not your
mother,” said a nameless jail guard as his words jolted Scott awake.
The battered prisoner’s body ached and pulsated while his
eyes stung as they adjusted to the florescent lights of an infirmary. He had
patches and bandages all over his wounds and even had some cotton pressed
against his gums, though his speech was clear enough to decipher. As soon as
Scott’s eyes adjusted to the light, he stared up at the prison guard trying to
get a good read of him. The bright lights gave him an angelic aura, but Scott
knew this was far from heaven.
The guard reached up and pulled the wire out of the only
camera in the room, thus making their interactions completely private. Scott’s
body jittered at the thought of what might happen to him next. But when he gave
a wide-eyed look at the guard, the latter said, “Doctor-patient privacy.”
Scott’s confusion and anxiety grew even more rampant when the guard knocked on
the door and said, “You can come in now, Dr. Archer.”
“Wait a minute, who’s Dr. Archer?” asked Scott in weak tone.
“Your girlfriend’s therapist,” answered the guard, who
allowed a slender black lady in business attire to enter the room with a
clipboard, a pen, and a sympathetic smile for her patient. “I’ll leave the two
of you alone for a while.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the therapist. Once the guard vacated
the room, she engaged Scott with a gentle handshake and a warm attitude. “My
name is Dr. Simone Archer. Your girlfriend sent me here to see how you’re
doing.”
“It’s amazing anybody cares about me at all,” said Scott
with a saggy frown.
Simone took a seat on the edge of Scott’s bed and began
taking notes on her clipboard. “Adrienne cares a lot about you, Mr. George.
This isn’t just some one-time fling for her. She’s committed to your happiness.
She hopes you feel the same way about her. Do you, Scott?”
Scott closed his heavy eyelids and sighed, “I’ve never loved
anybody that much in my life. Too bad it’s illegal.”
“Just because something is illegal, doesn’t mean it’s wrong,
The reverse is true as well. The laws that are built on commonsense are the
ones that mean the most to nonconformists such as yourself. But not everybody
has the commonsense you do and that’s why you’re here, not because you did
anything morally corrupt.”
Scott’s eyes slowly opened into pseudo-wideness when he
said, “I’ve been waiting far too long for somebody to say that to me.”
“Adrienne told me of your struggles with your history
teacher. And before you ask, she has granted me permission to divulge this
information to you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t do it. Just like I won’t divulge
anything you say to me in this session without your own permission. What
happens in this room stays in this room. It was my idea for the guard to unplug
the camera.”
Deep sighs and waves of relaxation washed over Scott’s
exhausted and burdensome body. “As long as this conversation is private and I’m
talking to someone who doesn’t think I have my head in my ass…there’s something
I’ve wanted to get off my chest. I’ve told Adrienne about it, but not many
other people.”
With clipboard and pen ready to go, Simone said, “I’m
listening. Go ahead whenever you’re ready.”
Another deep relaxing sigh later, Scott said, “As you can
tell from how fucking skinny I am…I’ve been having problems eating lately. It’s
like…every time I take a bite of something, it’s covered in these slimy little
worms. I know they’re not really there, but I can’t get my mind to shut the
fuck up about it.” Tears welled up in his eyes and Simone gently patted his
ankle. “I miss eating the good shit. I used to love eating steaks,
cheeseburgers, pizza, Oreos…now all I can eat are worms and more worms.
Everything around me is just a worm den.”
“And why do you suppose this is?”
Scott shrugged and said, “That’s what’s been giving me
nightmares lately: I don’t know why. It’s like…every time I close my eyes,
there she is again. This puppet teacher named Aloysius Striker. And then when I
go to court, I find out she’s a living, breathing human being. She’s my bully’s
step-mother. I don’t know what the hell any of this has to do with my worms.
But every time the worms crawl around, her hideous face is always there to mock
me.”
Simone allowed her new patient to shed a few silent tears
before she patted his ankle again and said, “I want to try something with you,
Scott. You seem to be in a relaxed state of mind, but I think you can go deeper
than that. I want you to close your eyes for a moment. Breathe gently in and
out. I want you to get to the root of these issues. The answer is locked up
somewhere in there. You just have to be the one who unlocks it.”
“But…but…what if I find something that fucks me up?”
“Whatever you find locked up in there, it will no doubt be
painful. You’re showing classic signs of PTSD. And as a coping mechanism, those
who suffer from PTSD push their worst memories to a neutral corner of their
brains. That may work in the short term, but now you’re at a point where it’s
eating you up inside. I know you’re scared, Scott. But if you don’t’ confront
your demons now, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
Scott gave a sad flat tire noise and said, “However long that
is.”
“Have you given up already, Scott? Even if you have, don’t
you at least owe it to yourself to find the answers you’re looking for?”
Taking more deep breaths, Scott closed his eyes and said,
“Okay, I’ll play ball with you. Let’s do this.”
Holding Scott’s hand in a soothing grip, Simone spoke to him
in an ethereal new age voice in hopes of triggering a hypnotic effect. “Think
back to your earliest memory of Mrs. Striker. When did this happen? Who is she
to tell you what to think about? Why does her presence mean so much to you?”
Scott’s mind swirled with colors while his body sank deeper
into his hospital bed. His arms went limp as did his legs. He could breathe
deeply while ignoring the agony in his nearly broken torso. Any stress point in
his body, he breathed into and dissolved the tension. No judgment. No
condescension. Just Scott and his mind, one-on-one.
As he traveled through his imagination, he could feel
himself getting smaller. His babyish voice echoed throughout the halls of what
appeared to be another hospital room. He tensed up slightly when the worms
flooded his imagination, but he brushed them away like mere annoyances since
they blocked the path to his answers. And then he felt a motherly pair of hands
cradling him and soothing his baby screams. A woman gently sang to him, “Good
morning to you. Good morning to you. Good morning, dear Scotty. Good morning to
you!”
Scott sat up in his bed and triggered the pain in his
stomach, his heart and brain beating at a blistering speed. Adrenaline poured
through his system as tears flooded from his eyes. When Simone asked him what
he saw, he caught his breath long enough to say, “Aloysius is my mother!...That
fucking bitch is my mother!” Scott plopped backwards in his bed and allowed the
tears to burst over his face. “That’s not possible. How could my dad marry a
woman like that? Damn you, Dad!”
Simone pulled a handkerchief from her suit pocket and wiped
the wetness from her patient’s face. But alas, not even the best janitors in
the world had that kind of cleaning power. The tears kept coming and so did the
snot. Simone held the rag to his nose and allowed him to blow his nose until
his sinuses were dry. She tossed the rag in the garbage can, but the tears kept
coming.
“Listen to me, Scott. Your past doesn’t define you. I know
that sounds cliché, but quite frankly it doesn’t get said enough. This woman
obviously had a tremendous effect on your psyche. But she’s neither here nor
there. She has no control over your life anymore. She made the decision to
leave you and mother your nemesis. That’s all on her. As far as you go, Scott,
you must now use this story as a launching pad for your future, not as a
barricade. Be the change you want in this world.”
Wiping his tears away with the back of his hand, Scott wept,
“Future? What future? I’m in prison, for god’s sake! There’s no such thing as a
future in prison!”
Taking Scott’s hand in hers yet again, Simone looked deep
into his dewy eyes and confessed, “I wanted to wait to tell you this until
you’ve calmed down a bit. But I can see you need to know it now. It’s the only
thing that can convince you to stay strong and push for a better day. You see,
Scott…your principal Miss Williams set up a Go Fund Me page to get you out of
jail…she met her goal. Your bail’s been paid. It’s all a matter of waiting for
the paperwork to go through. Scott…you’re free!”
That news should have brought a permanent smile to Scott’s
face, but instead more tears poured from his bright red pupils. “I don’t
deserve this….I didn’t do anything to earn this…this is some Deus Ex Machina
shit right here!”
“You’re wrong, Scott,” said Simone. “While it’s true you’ve
made a few enemies during your high school years, you’ve also inspired many.
The parents of Perkins High paid close attention to what happened to you. They
were shocked not at your actions, but at your results. They looked at you and
asked themselves…What if that was my child in the defendant’s chair? This is
your story now, Scott. While you didn’t come up with the money yourself, you win
this war by virtue of your survival. The world needs to hear what you have to
say. They need your individuality. They need your strength. They need your
empathy. That’s why you’re free from prison. And yes, you do deserve your
freedom and so much more.”
After a while of letting his new therapist’s words hang in
the air, Scott hugged her tightly without caring how awkward it would seem. He
soaked the shoulder of her business suit in tears, but Simone didn’t mind at
all. In fact, she returned the hug and allowed him this moment of newfound
happiness. Scott knew he still had a long road ahead of him in terms of
recovery, but this was a huge first step. “Thank you, Dr. Archer. Thank you!”
he said softly.
“Please, call me Simone. You have my permission. This isn’t
school, my friend. This is just you and me.” As soon as the embrace ended, she
said, “Speaking of school, you have finals to prepare for, including a US
history test, though Mr. Simpson has been replaced by someone else. Are you
sure you’re ready for this?”
Wiping away the last of his ocular fluids, Scott nodded and
said, “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life!”
