the job?
The job was crap. Real crap.
Cleaning up on the oil rigs
and back at the yard.
I quit. Now Iâm broke.
I guess my mom was following the conversation.
Guess you didnât have to be psychic to figure out what
was being said on the other end.
She reached into her purse again, fiddled with
her wallet
then started waving her credit card
in the air
like a magic wand.
Iâm gonna put Mom on the phone, I said.
He began to say, No, donât do that.
But
I had already handed Mom the phone and Jack was nodding that he and I should leave the room.
Once we had closed the door behind us, Jack handed me a stick of chewing gum and said,
Donât worry about anything.
I can already see him on the flight.
Heâs on the red eye from out West,
seat 11B, it looks like.
Heâs watching a really silly movie
about cowboys and Indians,
only
the Indians are the good guys
in this one.
Fred the Janitor
School seemed different somehow after that.
And Thomas said hi to me when we passed in the halls.
I said hi back. (It wasnât like we were good buddies, but we werenât enemies. We were neutral.)
No Jimmy, no Jenson, not even Old Man.
When it came time for a pop quiz on French verbs, I had squat.
If I was going to pass the year at all, Iâd have to start getting serious about school.
I know,
I know.
Do you hear what this sounds like?
And then Caitlan.
Caitlan still looked pale and unhealthy.
She walked fast everywhere she went
and when I tried to talk to her, she seemed embarrassed.
Can we talk? Iâd ask.
Not yet.
Two days went by.
Not yet. Iâm still not ready.
Soon.
So I hung back.
Waited.
It was a rainy day.
Buckets of rain.
I arrived at the school soaked.
Caitlan grabbed me
when I walked into the school.
Now, she said.
Fred was in his closet emptying a bucket of rain water.
This place has more leaks
than the Titanic, he said
when Caitlan opened the door.
Hi Fred, she said, can we
use my office? Sure. I was
just leaving. Got to save this
sinking ship.
Fred rolled his bucket and mop noisily
out the door and closed it.
Caitlan locked it from the inside.
We were alone with
the sound of rain on the roof.
We were both wet
and shivering.
Sorry about avoiding you.
Sâokay.
I needed to get it all sorted out.
You okay now?
Iâm better, but still working on it.
I showed my mom my arms and hands
and she took me to a counselor.
Iâm working things through.
But youâve stopped
Cutting myself?
Yes. How stupid was that?
Why did you?
I wanted to feel the pain.
It somehow felt good.
Yeah. I know how that sounds.
(There was a long pause.
We both shivered some more
and then laughed a nervous duet.)
Now what?
You and me. Can we start over?
Of course.
No Jenson this time.
(Didnât know what to say to that.)
He was real.
To me.
You know?
To me, too.
I donât really know
how that could be.
I think that what is real to us
is what we believe is real.
Maybe thatâs how everything works.
After we were up on that hill,
I didnât know what to think.
You seemed pretty mixed up.
Who wouldnât be?
I guess.
I wasnât sure about you,
if you were who
you appeared to be.
I wasnât even sure
you were real.
I guess that makes sense.
(I tried to say something
more but no words came out.
My mind was frozen,
empty.)
What?
I was having a hard time breathing.
Iâm here, I said, and then gulped for air.
Iâm as real as it gets.
I know that now.
I looked deep into her dark eyes now. I suddenly lost my own nervousness and uncertainty. I could see that she was still confused, still hurting, still unsteady.
But I saw more than that.
What do you see?
I see Caitlan. I see someone who has been hurt.
Someone who is getting stronger.
Someone who will survive.
I think I need your help.
Iâm good with that.
But I donât trust myself.
What do you mean?
I canât get too
The job was crap. Real crap.
Cleaning up on the oil rigs
and back at the yard.
I quit. Now Iâm broke.
I guess my mom was following the conversation.
Guess you didnât have to be psychic to figure out what
was being said on the other end.
She reached into her purse again, fiddled with
her wallet
then started waving her credit card
in the air
like a magic wand.
Iâm gonna put Mom on the phone, I said.
He began to say, No, donât do that.
But
I had already handed Mom the phone and Jack was nodding that he and I should leave the room.
Once we had closed the door behind us, Jack handed me a stick of chewing gum and said,
Donât worry about anything.
I can already see him on the flight.
Heâs on the red eye from out West,
seat 11B, it looks like.
Heâs watching a really silly movie
about cowboys and Indians,
only
the Indians are the good guys
in this one.
Fred the Janitor
School seemed different somehow after that.
And Thomas said hi to me when we passed in the halls.
I said hi back. (It wasnât like we were good buddies, but we werenât enemies. We were neutral.)
No Jimmy, no Jenson, not even Old Man.
When it came time for a pop quiz on French verbs, I had squat.
If I was going to pass the year at all, Iâd have to start getting serious about school.
I know,
I know.
Do you hear what this sounds like?
And then Caitlan.
Caitlan still looked pale and unhealthy.
She walked fast everywhere she went
and when I tried to talk to her, she seemed embarrassed.
Can we talk? Iâd ask.
Not yet.
Two days went by.
Not yet. Iâm still not ready.
Soon.
So I hung back.
Waited.
It was a rainy day.
Buckets of rain.
I arrived at the school soaked.
Caitlan grabbed me
when I walked into the school.
Now, she said.
Fred was in his closet emptying a bucket of rain water.
This place has more leaks
than the Titanic, he said
when Caitlan opened the door.
Hi Fred, she said, can we
use my office? Sure. I was
just leaving. Got to save this
sinking ship.
Fred rolled his bucket and mop noisily
out the door and closed it.
Caitlan locked it from the inside.
We were alone with
the sound of rain on the roof.
We were both wet
and shivering.
Sorry about avoiding you.
Sâokay.
I needed to get it all sorted out.
You okay now?
Iâm better, but still working on it.
I showed my mom my arms and hands
and she took me to a counselor.
Iâm working things through.
But youâve stopped
Cutting myself?
Yes. How stupid was that?
Why did you?
I wanted to feel the pain.
It somehow felt good.
Yeah. I know how that sounds.
(There was a long pause.
We both shivered some more
and then laughed a nervous duet.)
Now what?
You and me. Can we start over?
Of course.
No Jenson this time.
(Didnât know what to say to that.)
He was real.
To me.
You know?
To me, too.
I donât really know
how that could be.
I think that what is real to us
is what we believe is real.
Maybe thatâs how everything works.
After we were up on that hill,
I didnât know what to think.
You seemed pretty mixed up.
Who wouldnât be?
I guess.
I wasnât sure about you,
if you were who
you appeared to be.
I wasnât even sure
you were real.
I guess that makes sense.
(I tried to say something
more but no words came out.
My mind was frozen,
empty.)
What?
I was having a hard time breathing.
Iâm here, I said, and then gulped for air.
Iâm as real as it gets.
I know that now.
I looked deep into her dark eyes now. I suddenly lost my own nervousness and uncertainty. I could see that she was still confused, still hurting, still unsteady.
But I saw more than that.
What do you see?
I see Caitlan. I see someone who has been hurt.
Someone who is getting stronger.
Someone who will survive.
I think I need your help.
Iâm good with that.
But I donât trust myself.
What do you mean?
I canât get too
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