Marionette (8 page)

“I don’t remember studying that law in my business law class.” She forked up a dainty portion of her salad.

“And they let you into an MBA program. What is the world coming to?” I joked, and started carving into my steak.

“Not to ruin your good mood, but how is therapy so far?”

I continued chewing an extremely large piece of steak. Ever since I was a kid, I had never consumed petite bites. It was all or nothing for me. While chewing, I tried to think of something clever to say. I wanted to tell her that I’d used her dog-on-a-nail story and that Liddy ate that shit up. The old Jess would have gotten a kick out of me using the story and having a therapist taking the bait. But the new Jess, the one after the bathtub incident, probably wouldn’t find it funny.

Finally, when I couldn’t come up with anything clever, I mumbled, “Its fine,” with my mouth full of steak.

“Is that all you’ll say?”

I swallowed too quickly, and then punched my chest with a fist to force a chunk of half-chewed steak down. After a sip of my iced tea, I added, “It won’t be easy, Jess. But I’m going to give it the good ol’ fashioned college try.” I gave a Boy Scout salute.

“I hope you take more time in therapy than you do chewing your food. Do they have any manners courses up there?”

I scanned her face. She was only half joking. “You’re a funny lady.”

“You know I support you, Paige.”

“I know, Jess. I really do.”

* * *

When I got back to my dorm room, the three stooges were there. Fortunately, after my marvelous weekend with Jess, I was in a decent mood. Minnie wasn’t. She was crying, and Karen was patting her on the back. Jenna the jock looked distressed over Minnie showing her feelings. I was starting to like Jenna more and more.

“Hello,” I whispered. I set my bag down and slipped quietly into the room.

“Hi,” Karen replied.

I watched for a few seconds and then motioned to Minnie, whose head was buried in her arms, elbows on her desk.

“She had a blowup with her boyfriend on the phone.” Karen filled me in.

“Oh…‌I’m sorry to hear that.” I didn’t want to hear the details of the fight, though. Young lovers and their squabbles got on my nerves quickly.

“She wants to see him, but she doesn’t have a car. Jenna’s car broke down today, so she can’t borrow it.” Karen was full of information.

Jenna avoided all eye contact. I sincerely doubted that her car had happened to break down on the same day Minnie had asked to borrow it. My gut told me that Jenna didn’t lend her car to anyone, probably not even her mom.

I walked up to Minnie and handed her my car keys. “You can take my car if you want. You might have to get gas, but don’t feel like you have to fill it up all the way.”

The three of them stared at me. I don’t think any of them had expected that. Minnie wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “You really mean that?”

“Of course.”

She jumped out of her chair and hugged me, and I noticed she needed a shower. When she went straight to the bathroom to get spruced up for Jeff, the boyfriend, I was relieved, although part of me wanted to remind her to comb her hair.

“You see, Paige, I’m starting to figure you out.” Karen beamed.

The only way I could ever manage to hurt my parents was through their pocketbook. If Minnie wrecked my car, they would have to buy me a new one to keep up their image. It wouldn’t do to have their darling daughter without a car—‌a nice car. It wasn’t like I wanted Minnie to get killed or anything, but some serious damage to the car would be good. Lately, I had been looking for ways to make my parents suffer with little consequence for me.

“You think so, Karen?” I crossed my arms.

“Yep. You do have a heart.”

That made me smile. Minnie emerged from the bathroom, and I told her which parking lot the car was in. The lot in front of our dorm was always packed, so usually I had to hike halfway across campus to retrieve my car.

She gave me another hug. “Thanks, Paige. I really appreciate this.”

“Drive safe and take care of Junior Mint.”

“Junior Mint?” inquired the grinning Karen.

“That’s the name of my car. It’s green, and I love Junior Mints.”

“I’m blown away. I’m learning so much about you tonight. You, Paige, actually named your car. That’s kinda cute.”

Jess had named the car, actually. Watching Karen gloat about her new insight tempted me to tell her the truth, just so I could pull the rug right out from under her. Yet, I relished the thought that she believed she was “getting to know me,” when in fact she knew nothing at all. Good!

Chapter Nine

After the first week of classes, my nerves started to settle somewhat. I no longer dreaded going to lectures and seeing so many unfamiliar faces. In fact, I found that I liked being around so many people I didn’t know and probably would never know. Those people never asked personal questions, so I wouldn’t be forced to lie to them. It was a freeing feeling.

One part of my new life that I hadn’t yet adjusted to was Liddy. Jess had made it damn clear I could not slouch on my promise. I was told—‌no, ordered—‌not to just go through the motions, but to try. To really try. She hadn’t told me how to do that, though. People are good at giving advice, but not on giving a step-by-step, how-to guide. I wanted a procedure, something that would fix my problem. How did I repress the urge to kill myself? Step one…? Why can’t there be a step-by-step program? Don’t drunks have a program? I wanted a program.

The afternoon was beautiful. Puffy marshmallow clouds floated through the cerulean sky. Birds chirped. Squirrels scampered about, chattering at passersby. I felt a strong urge to jump in my car and head toward the canyon to hike.

Instead, I was sitting in Liddy’s office, waiting. She walked in two minutes late—‌not bad, for her. I elected not to give her a hard time. After all, it had backfired before.

“How have you been since our last meeting?” Her words felt hollow to me.

“Fine.”

She turned around and headed toward her desk. Her hair covered half of her face, but from the part I could see, she wasn’t pleased with my reply. Liddy set her bag down and picked up the usual from her desk: pencil and notepad.

I was starting to loathe the pencil and notepad. What the fuck did she need them for?

She perched herself in the chair opposite and fussed with her blazer. I preferred her in jeans and a sweater, but I didn’t think I really got a say.

Had she forgotten I was there? I opted to stay absolutely still.

As she adjusted her shirt, she asked, “What would you like to talk about today?”

Why couldn’t she provide the blueprint for me? If I knew what was wrong with me, then I would fix it. I can be a rational person. Her question angered me, so I decided to be annoying. “The birds and the bees.”

“Maybe next time, even though I think that would be an interesting discussion to have with you.”

What in the hell did she mean by that? If I were braver, I would have asked. But I was logical, not brave. I didn’t like people making assumptions about me, yet letting people make assumptions helped me stay hidden.

I inspected my shoes, making sure my laces hadn’t magically untied themselves. Just to be sure, I tightened the knots.

“You mentioned last week that you aren’t close to your father.”

“Correct.”

“Would you like to elaborate?” She attempted a coaxing smile. Did another one of her suicidal patients attempt to kill themselves? Was that why she was in a crap mood?

“We lived in the same house—‌that was our only connection.”

She tapped her pencil, but showed no emotion. “And that doesn’t bother you.”

I sighed. “You get used to it. I’ve had seventeen years to realize that he doesn’t love me. He never wanted me. He’s made that clear. Over the years, I’ve watched him torture my mother, me…‌not sure how he feels about Abbie, though. I grew to hate him. Now…‌I don’t know. I don’t like him, but hate…‌I prefer to ignore the fact that he’s my dad. I’m tired. Tired of hating. Now, I avoid. When I still lived at home, I could go for days and not see him once. I’ve turned avoiding my father into a game.”

“And how do you know he feels this way about you?”

“Oh, he doesn’t mince his words. And his actions—‌well, they don’t lie either.” I crossed my arms and slunk down further into my chair.

“How do you mean?”

I closed my eyes, trying to eradicate one particular image, but couldn’t. I wished I had a delete button on my brain. I hated feeling normal and then—‌BAM!—‌a picture floating before my eyes taunted me, lured me back.

“A few years after the Lego incident, my mother had surgery. After surviving those years, I thought nothing could destroy her. I thought her surgery would transform her into a superhero. I put a lot of hope into that thought. I wanted my mom back.

“I blamed the Lego incident just as much as everyone else. My memories of her before were gone. All I remembered was the mean mom. In my head, I pictured a sweet, doting mother. The Lego had ruined it all. All of it.” I jumped out of my chair. Being cradled in the arms of the chair felt like an abomination.

“I think wolves would have done a better job of raising me after the incident. My parents…”

Liddy followed my eyes up to the ceiling. Above us, people were going about their normal business, preparing for weekend frivolity. Down in the bowels of the building, clients like me were ripping their souls out, piece by piece. Hacking at them, hoping they might rejuvenate. But I had zero hope. All of this was pointless.

Fuck Jess for making me promise to do this.

“When my mom was in the hospital, my father wanted me to see her right after her surgery. The hospital had a policy that patients couldn’t be seen so soon. Policies didn’t apply to him; they never did. He wanted me to see. I hadn’t told him that I’d believed she would evolve into a superhero, but maybe he suspected. Or maybe he’s just an asshole.”

I leaned against the far wall, still staring at the ceiling with dead eyes. The cracks in the paint blurred into one large hole. I wanted to climb through it. I wanted to plan for weekend merriment.

Liddy cleared her throat and I resumed the story. “I sat in the lobby of the hospital. I can’t remember where Abbie was. Sometimes, I wondered if my sister actually existed. Was she a figment of my imagination? Was she me? Was I her? Or was she just too smart to let them fuck with her mind.” I sucked in some air, but my lungs felt empty. Empty air.

“‘No, I don’t think you understand,’ he said to the nurse. ‘I want my child to see her.’ He never said that she was my mom. He always said
her
. He demanded that the nurse wheel
her
out to the lobby since they wouldn’t let me behind the locked doors.

“‘Mr. Alexander, I don’t think you understand—‌’ the nurse started, but my father’s eyes stopped her dead. She gathered her strength and whispered, ‘This could be too traumatic…’ she didn’t finish the statement, but glanced in my direction.”

I saw the hole in the ceiling spreading open for me. I breathed in more stagnant air.

“‘I don’t think
you
understand—‌you’ll do as I say,’ he said. I can still picture the odd, calm expression on his beet-red face. I’d often marveled over his dual emotions. His words commanded respect, as if he were a Marine drill sergeant.

“For all I know, he probably donated generously to the hospital. Not because he was kind. He was never kind. His tax guy probably suggested it. I think it was around the time he started setting up offshore accounts. If it made fiscal sense, then my father would do it. The word charity sent thunderbolts through his eyes. Ingrates stood with their palms out, begging for money. No one gave him a leg up. He had to toil for his bread. I often imagined that my father was Dickens’s inspiration for Ebenezer Scrooge in a previous life.”

I stopped talking, not wanting to continue. What was the point really? How was talking part of the step-by-step plan to stay alive? Shouldn’t I focus on the good in life? Shouldn’t I climb through the hole and announce, “I want to have fun with the rest of you! Fuck this slitting my wrists bullshit!”

“What happened?” Liddy’s voice startled me. I was elsewhere, above, and I didn’t want to come back down. Not to her office.

“The nurse left the lobby in a huff, but she followed orders. I tried hiding behind a potted plant, but that didn’t last. I heard the buzzer on the door. The automatic doors creaked open. I heard a squeaking wheel and the pitter-patter of the nurse’s footsteps. My eyes darted up, against my will. Slowly, a hideous creature emerged from the shadows.

“She sat slumped in her chair, spittle dribbling down her front. She was ghost-white. I reached for her hand, and it was frigid. I was sure the doctors had killed her. She was a corpse. Had to be a corpse.”

I chuckled. “She was no Wonder Woman, I can tell you that. All of my hopes were dashed that day.”

“Why did your father insist on it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I suspect he wanted to prove something to me. He had a life plan. Everything, for the most part, was going according to his plans. The things that didn’t go exactly to plan, he could mold into a positive. Then the Lego piece sent his world swirling out of control. Everyone blamed me for it. He couldn’t salvage what the Lego did.”

“Your loyalty to your mother is impressive.” Her expression told me she was egging me on. She was trying to uncover something.

I shrugged. “I just wanted to feel human again,” I muttered.

“Did you feel the razor when you cut into your wrists?”

Her question left me speechless. I wasn’t sure if I should feel indignant or answer the question.

Several seconds ticked by. “No.”

“Where do you go when you don’t feel?”

“Into the past.”

“Your past?” She leaned forward in the chair, as if she were anticipating a big clue.

“Yes and no. It feels like my past, but I don’t believe it either. I don’t know what to believe anymore. Sometimes it feels like I’m watching a movie, and I don’t know if I’m the star or in the audience.”

Neither of us shattered the silence for several seconds.