for Larry Boyle. Larry wasnât athletic, popular, or particularly smart, and he was pickedon mercilessly for his Coke-bottle glasses and two enormously gapped front teeth.
She had a crush on Larry because of something he said to her by the tetherball courts at school.
âI hate my glasses.â
âYou can always get a new pair.â
âNo, I meanâ¦Well, I just wish I could see you without them, thatâs all.â
He smiled with those enormous teeth, and at that moment, she thought he was the next Simon Le Bon. They decided to go out on a date.
Waiting for the date was maddening and exciting. She couldnât believe that someone who wasnât in the room had the power to make her nervous, excited, and frustrated at the same time. Two days later, his mom drove them to the mall, and they played video games while eating greasy cheese pizza off thin white paper plates. Their romance only lasted a few months, but to thirteen-year-old Samantha, it was magical.
She felt some of that nervousness today, waiting for Frank to call, but these feelings only made her angry. Heâd left for a career. Heâd left because it was safer to fly across the country and start a new life than to wait for her love. His voice had sounded dry when he told her it was over, five months ago. He was already living in Washington, and the telephone connection punctuated his voice with static. She listened to him talk and didnât make a sound, because she knew how much he hated silence. He rambled through apologies and excuses that were really neither. Iâm sorry. We just donât know how long weâll be apart. What else can we do? I mean, you want to stay there for your job, to be near your fatherâ¦.
The truth was that he didnât trust someone who was afraid to say âI love you.â Maybe he was right not to trust her, she thinks. Maybe she couldnât say those words because something was missing in her. She wasnât sure then and still isnât. All she toldhim that afternoon was âAt least Iâll never lie to you.â She meant it, and believed herself to be honorable for it. But silence can be more hurtful than a lie.
Frank sent her a letter a few days later with only five lines.
Of all that you have done, and been; [â¦]
Of things ill done and done to othersâ harm
Which once you took for exercise of virtue.
Heâd always liked T. S. Eliot. He didnât want to use his own words to hurt her, so he borrowed them from someone else. After that, he didnât speak to her for six months.
Until two days ago, in front of the church.
Â
Sitting at the edge of her bed in the clinic, she looks up at Dr. Clay. âDid Phebe have any hallucinations?â
âYou know I canât discuss my other patients with you.â Dr. Clay looks tired and worried.
For the first time she wonders if he has trouble sleeping. âI just didnât get to see her this morning. Is everything all right? Arty said she was upset.â
âDid he?â Dr. Clay asks, surprised and somewhat irritated. Then he admits, âShe didnât sleep well last night, but Iâm sure sheâs fine, Sam. We should get startedââ
âDo you think sheâll show up?â
âNot tonight.â
âWhy?â
He pauses. âA lot of people are afraid to get clinical treatment.â
âWhy?â
âBecause theyâre worried that itâs their last chance. That if they donât get better this time, they never will.â
He looks distracted as he flips through Samanthaâs chart. She lies down and waits quietly for him to place the electrodes onher temples. He hands her the goggles, and she notices a tremor in his left hand.
âDo you think this is our last chance?â
He pauses before answering. âNo, I donât.â He smiles weakly and adds, âNot by a long shot. Besides, itâs working for
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