that ordinary.
I know I said Dr. Greenberg looks like a skinny Santa Claus, but if you dressed him in more worn-out clothes instead of in the khaki slacks and plain button-down shirts he usually wears, he could also pass for one of those guys who stands at freeway off-ramps holding a sign that says HOMELESS VET ANYTHING HELPS . Plus, Groovy usually joins us in sessions. Groovy is this big golden retriever with liquid-brown eyes like a humanâs, almost. The first time he came into Dr. Greenbergâs office while I was in there, he leaped up onto the couch that I sit on during appointments like some sort of dog superhero. Then he curled up next to me and did this dog sigh of total contentment.
I thought it was weird at first, but I got used to it. When I walk into the office for todayâs session, Groovy follows me in and sits down right next to me, and I spend the next ten minutes scratching behind his ears and giving Dr. Greenberg the shortest answers I can come up with, wondering how much more time until our session is up.
âGroovy likes you,â says Dr. Greenberg, giving me a soft half smile.
âI like Groovy,â I answer.
Silence.
I wonder how much my parents are paying Dr. Greenberg. If heâs so famous, probably a lot. Which sort of makes me feel guilty since in the five months Iâve been seeing him I just answer his questions as simply as I can, and we make basic conversation about the weather or what we ate for breakfast. I mean, Iâm not rude or anything. Heâs a nice enough guy. Iâm just not sure why I keep coming here if we donât even really talk about everything that happened.
Not that Iâm dying to talk about any of it.
âYou donât have any pets, do you?â asks Dr. Greenberg.
âNo,â I answer. âMy mom doesnât like animals in the house.â I bet if I asked for a dog now, though, I would get one. I could get five, probably. I feel so guilty over that realization that Iâm pretty sure Iâll never ask for a dog ever. Probably not even a goldfish.
And suddenly a memory comes at me. The image of that stray tabby Marty let me feed sometimes. The one I found hanging out around the apartment complex. The one I found after he finally started letting me go outside and breathe fresh air. The picture shoots through me like a needle through fabric. Quick and sharp and exact.
No, donât think about it.
I squeeze my eyes tight.
âEthan, you with me?â
I blink a few times, and my left hand moves to pet Groovyâs soft, silky head. It steadies me a little.
âYeah, Iâm with you,â I answer.
My eyes scan the back wall of the office. Iâm trying to get my bearings. After all these months of sitting in this room in Dr. Greenbergâs house, the room that heâs turned into his office, Iâve memorized the diplomas with the names Harvard and Columbia on them. Along with the diplomas thereâs a framed black-and-white photograph of a younger looking Dr. Greenberg with a darker beard marching in a street, surrounded by other guys with crazy beards and girls with long, messy hair. Iâve always wondered about it.
âWhatâs that picture of?â I ask, motioning at the image. If I can take up time asking questions, the session will go by faster. And I wonât have to talk about myself.
Dr. Greenberg twists around in his seat and smiles fondly.
âOh, thatâs me protesting the war in Vietnam,â he says. âBack when I was a student. I was arrested shortly after that picture was taken.â
âAnd they let you become a therapist?â I ask. Thereâs a mug shot of my therapist somewhere in a police station. I swear to God, this guy gets weirder every time.
âHa!â Dr. Greenberg says. âThatâs terrific. Yes. They let me become a therapist. Thatâs not the only time I was arrested, just so you know. I used to be very active in the no
Annmarie McKenna
Blake Pierce
Jon Ronson
Bruce Hale
Michael Jecks
L. Ron Hubbard
Bette Adriaanse
Tamara Lejeune
Theodore Taylor
Catherine Hart