Read Online Panorama City by Antoine Wilson - Free Book Online Page A

mantle to conceal their lack of natural ability, Paul’s words. Paul told me that in his youth he knew, he knew even at age five, while other children were talking about becoming firemen or doctors or airline pilots, he knew that he would never become a professional anything, he knew even then that professionals were the greatest perpetrators of fraud in the world, that our only hope as a species lay in the hands of those who had not declared themselves professionals at anything. Someone like Dr. Rosenkleig becomes a therapist because he is fascinated by the workings of the human mind, Paul’s words, and he is fascinated by the workings of the human mind because the workings of the human mind baffle him, because he has no natural aptitude for understanding the workings of the human mind.
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    After our session I found Aunt Liz waiting in the driveway, in her Tempo, she was waiting in the idling Tempo, she had the air-conditioning on, she had her visor mirror down and was examining her face and making small adjustments to her makeup. Dr. Rosenkleig followed me to the car, he seemed to have found a boost of energy somewhere, he smiled wide and told Aunt Liz that we were already making tremendous progress. I did not contradict him, I was pleased to hear it, but as far as I was concerned all that had happened was that I had talked in a great big circle and ended up right back where I started.
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    Aunt Liz made dinner that night, she made a shepherd’s pie and a salad, and we ate across from each other in the kitchen, at the kitchen table, a single unlit candle between us, despite the fact that there was a proper dining table, in the dining room, with many unlit candles on it. I asked Aunt Liz why we weren’t eating in the dining room and she told me it was for guests, for when we had guests over, it was for special occasions, and once I got myself established, once I began to lead a respectable life in Panorama City, one day I would move into a place of my own, and then she and I could eat at the dining room table, because then I would be a guest, but for now I was a member of the household, and I was expected to contribute as a member of the household, and I was to eat at the kitchen table just as she had always done in the period before my arrival, except of course when guests were present. I asked her why we didn’t light the candle, and she said that she didn’t want to clean up the wax and have to be replacing the candle all the time and besides the lights in the kitchen were soft enough. I asked her then why have a candle at all and she said that it was for atmosphere, that it made things nicer. I suggested that if the power went out it would also come in handy. She said I was missing the point.The candle, she said, was the difference between a house and a home, it made the difference. Then, changing the subject just a little, in her Aunt Liz way, she asked whether my quarters were adequate. Which was when I expressed concern about my bed, she asked if the sheets were too feminine, I said they were not, I said that the problem with my bed was the size, I could only fit on the bed, I could only get my whole body onto the mattress in a zigzag shape, lying on my side, I had slept that way the night before, in a zigzag, on my left side, but then I had been, or my body had been, overwhelmed with the urge to turn over, for the body is always seeking a sense of balance in sleep, my philosophy, and when I tried to roll over onto my right side, into a zigzag shape on my right side, I had to straighten out and position my legs on the thing opposite the headboard, the footboard, temporarily position my legs there, supporting my weight, which was very uncomfortable, so that by the time I was in a zigzag shape again on my right side I was wide awake with discomfort. This happened several times over the course of the night. I’m not a complainer, I wouldn’t have said anything, except that I was