Read Online Something Right Behind Her by Claire Hollander - Free Book Online Page A

therapist and get me an appointment.
The guy’s name is Randy and his office is in White Plains. I told my parents
I’d go, but they couldn’t make me drive there. I have this thing about roads
with more than two lanes. It really freaks me out to have moving vehicles on
either side of my moving vehicle.
    Randy is maybe
about thirty-two or three. I am not very good with guessing people’s ages, but
he’s about your average English teacher’s age. He is so short it’s freaky,
which is not a good thing in a therapist. Personally, I think a therapist
should be tall and serious-looking, good-looking in a way that makes you think
of TV, but not sex.
    When we got to
Randy’s office Mom shook his hand and then went to have a seat next to some
potted plants in the waiting room. I couldn’t tell if the plants were real or
not, which sort of bothered me. There was only one small window in the whole
place, so I figured they were just good fakes.
    Randy had a nice
painting behind his desk, a kind of abstract thing with lots of blues and
purples in it. He also wore a wedding band. Both the painting and the ring made
me a bit more comfortable. At least the hairy little guy didn’t seem like a
complete loser.
    At first I just
sat there, not saying anything and Randy was quiet too. He kept his eyes down,
like he was reading some notes he had about me, although I think he was
probably faking that. Finally, he looked up and started speaking. “So,” Randy
said. “What’s going on?”
    He opened his
eyes really wide at me. I noticed one eye was slightly grayer than the other. I
wondered if this was a biological fact, or the effect of the lighting in his
office. He put his hands on his chunky thighs and looked at me expectantly.
    I explained to
him about Eve, and how the other stuff that had been happening really didn’t
have very much to do with her, but if there was a problem I was having, it was
probably with this issue of the rapid physical deterioration of my best friend.
I didn’t mention how Eve came to me in my dreams, a ghost friend. Talking about
my dreams in therapy was, I figured, both too much of a cliche, and a little
too personal. I didn’t need Hairy Randy asking all about why I thought Eve
wanted to take me with her to the bathroom of heaven.
    “Ouch,” Randy
said. “That’s tough stuff, huh kid?”
    It was just
about the corniest thing a person could say, but I started sniffling all the
same. I am actually a pretty big crier, at least in private, and once I get
started it’s really hard for me to stop. After a few minutes of me crying and
him handing me tissues, he started to speak again.
    “What are you
thinking about right now that is making you so sad, Andy? Can you put that
sadness into words?”
    “Not really, “ I
said. What could I say? The truth, the whole Douglas debacle, was way too out
there to possibly discuss with this guy. What were Mom and Dad thinking?
Evidently, that I would have nothing to disclose as jaw-dropping as losing my
virginity to good old Doug. I didn’t exactly lie, but started out my therapy
with a nice little evasion, a little duck and cover.
    “Right now, I am
just really upset because I haven’t gone to visit Eve in a ridiculously long
time, and I keep saying I will, but I don’t.” This was true. Not visiting Eve
was making me super-jittery.
    “And why won’t
you visit her? Why don’t you want to go to see her?”
    “It’s just the
way I am,” I lied. It was too gross to tell him about her period and all, and
anyway, that wasn’t the only reason I hadn’t seen Eve. I could have gone over
there after school any given day. I was the one stalling, asking for
permission.
    “I mean, I get
focused on what’s right in front of me and it’s hard to stop doing what I’m
doing, and its been a super-busy month at school, with track and homework.
Anyway, it’s not that I don’t like being with her, I do. I don’t feel bad when
I’m with her. I can’t explain it.