Sam took the steps down from the city bus so slowly, she was sure the bus driver was going to yell at her. But, he didn't. Just patiently let her take her sweet time. She was barely clear of the doors though before they clapped shut and he sped off to the next stop.
"Hey," she called, "you could have run me over!" With a scoff followed by a slight growl, the tiny twelve-year-old pulled her backpack up onto her shoulder and began the trudge up to the office building that held her brand new shrink.
Okay, she wasn't exactly brand new. This was, after all, Sam's fourth appointment. Which meant she and Jo had known each other for a whole month now. That was longer than most of Sam's mother's relationships. Sam just wasn't looking forward to this meeting. So far, her sessions had been relatively easy to get through and out of. Sam hadn't had to stay for a full session yet. Her first one, her mom was leaving for LA. Her second one, she'd had detention and hadn't shown up until half way through. Her third, she'd had Carly fake an emergency and call to get her out of it. But now, after all of Carly's complaints about feeling guilty, she was going to have to do the full hour.
An entire hour where she had to talk to this woman about... whatever. She'd manage to keep the conversations on the downside of school, the upside of fat cakes, and the reason she'd been arrested, which were actually all related topics now that she was thinking about it. If the kid Connor hadn't bought the last fat cake while she was skipping her boring math class, she wouldn't have demanded he give it to her. And if he had simply given it to her, she wouldn't have had to punch him in the face and fracture his wrist to procure the fat cakey goodness. And if Connor's dad hadn't been a cop... well, you get the idea.
Surveying the landscape around the office building where there were no cracked sidewalks, the trees were nicely trimmed, and the garbage was actually in the garbage cans, Sam couldn't help but think how different this place was from the neighborhood where she lived. It was like the two different halves of Seattle may as well have been two different planets. This neighborhood was even nicer than Carly's. Taking in a deep breath, she paused to glare at a guy in a suit and tie walking by her, then she pushed open the glass door, breezed by the receptionist, and pressed the up button on the elevator.
Hmmm... maybe I can make the elevator stall so I won't have to go right away. Good plan, Sam. What are you gonna do while you're stuck in there? Got any snacks in your bag?
Her stomach growled in response to her inner conflict and she waited impatiently for the ding that would allow the elevator doors to open. It was going to be, she was almost positive, a very long afternoon.
-o-
Josephine Perkins, on the other hand, sat in her chair, legs crossed, yellow legal pad propped on one knee, and sipped from a cup of coffee. Caffeine, she knew, was a crutch that she used to help her get through long days, though she also knew it didn't really help her get through anything. But Mondays were her longest day, the first day of the work week, and the one filled with the most patients. And five of her patients happened to be court appointed ones. And they all tended to do everything they could to avoid coming to see her.
Today, Samantha was only running a few minutes late... so far.
She would inform Samantha, just as she had the rest, that if she didn't complete her assigned number of hours, there would be nothing she could do to help her with that ugly blemish on her juvenile record. Not that Samantha seemed to care one way or the other about her juvenile record. The girl still hadn't made any attempt to look at it the last two sessions, and Dr. Perkins no longer needed it out during sessions to check her facts. Mainly because what they were going to start discussing wasn't going to be in the records kept by police officers and social workers.
Today, Josephine Perkins was determined to get Samantha Puckett to talk about something, anything, that actually had some sort of psychological relevance.
The buzzer from the outer office sounded, alerting Dr. Perkins to the fact that someone was in the waiting room, but before she could even place a finger on the intercom button to see who it was, the door opened with a soft click, and Sam was thumping her backpack down on the floor. Sam rushed to start speaking before she could ask her just how she got the door open as well.
"Yeah, yeah, I know I'm late, but I did have to reschedule detention for tomorrow, and the bus was running behind schedule, alright?"
"Of course, Sam. Understood." Dr. Perkins gestured to the couch for Sam to take her customary seat. Once she flopped down, feet up on the coffee table, hair splayed wildly behind her on the cushions, the doctor added, as if simply an observation, "I'm fairly certain my office door stays locked from the outside."
"Fairly?" Sam snorted. "I thought we were supposed to be straight with each other, Doc. You keep the door locked all the time?" When Josephine gave a nod, confirming that she did indeed keep the door locked at all times (it was, after all, for the privacy of her patients), Sam rolled her eyes and snapped, "just ask, then."
"How did you get the door open, Sam?" Her pen was still poised over her legal pad, ready to take notes.
"Picked the lock with a hair pin." Sam smiled her typical self satisfied smile, then looked around for the jar of candy that was always sitting on the table. It appeared to be missing. Her smile dropped, almost imperceptibly.
"I didn't know you wore hair pins." Scratch, scratch, scratch, went the pen on the paper.
"Don't. Not usually." Sam shrugged. "Usually have one in my pocket though, just in case. Comes in handy if I can't get in or out somewhere. Plus, some of the nubs at school figured out that I can get into just about any combination lock, so..."
"How'd you learn to do that?"
"My Uncle Carmine's good with his hands. He worked as a locksmith for a while." Sam's eyes roamed the room. She knew the jar had to be around here somewhere. "Got anything to eat? I haven't had anything since Carly's half a PB&J at lunch."
Food. Again. Josephine underscored the words on her notepad repeatedly. Usually, the little girl in front of her was all too eager to talk about her abilities, even if they were related to illegal activities. It was surprising that her lock picking prowess was met with an insistence for a treat. The doctor gestured to the shelf where some of the coloring books she kept for her younger patients were housed. The jar sat there, just to the left of the couch.
Sam was so eager to grab the snack, she had already retrieved the jar and sat back down, unscrewed the lid, and had a hand of food half way to her mouth before her eyes narrowed. "What is this chizz?" She eyed the jar suspiciously, shaking it, listening to the contents clink around, and even sniffed what was in her hand for good measure.
Subduing a chuckle, Dr. Perkins informed her, "trail mix. I've run out of candy." Really, it was more of an experiment. She had been changing the contents of the jar every week, just to see what Sam's reaction would be, if it was only the corn syrup and sugar that she was craving.
Shrugging, Sam downed a handful of raisins, almonds, granola, and dried bananas as though she were a hiker eating breakfast before a rigorous climb. "Not bad, Jo, not bad."
"It's my favorite trail mix. I usually take it camping with me."
Healthier foods might be a good option. Possible lack of food at home, not really an avoidance issue? Further research.
"You like to go camping?" Even if Sam's voice hadn't gone up about an octave, her wide eyes and smiling face would have been a good indicator of her surprise. She laughed a little. "Jo, I don't think I could ever picture you roughing it."
"Well, just like there are a lot of things I don't know about you, there are a lot of things you don't know about me."
Sam nodded, crunching on a few almonds. "How about we make a deal, Jo? It's kind of boring, me just talking. If I tell you stuff, you should tell me stuff too."
Hesitating, Dr. Perkins cocked her head to one side, unconsciously imitating the sixth grader in front of her. "That isn't really how therapy works, Sam."
"Maybe more people would talk if they didn't think it was so one sided." Sam's cheeks turned a soft shade of pink while she spoke, and she looked back down at the jar in her lap. "Want an almond?" She held out the jar, not looking the therapist in the eye when she did it.
And Josephine Perkins, though she wouldn't have believed it possible, recognized the peace offering for what it was, took an almond, and told Sam about the very first time she went camping. She was six years old, and went with her dad, just the two of them, and she got lost in the woods in the middle of the night.
"What happened?"
"I'll tell you more if you tell me about learning to pick locks," the doctor countered, her voice neutral, but her face smiling.
Sam returned with a slight smile of her own, "the Puckett family isn't really on the straight and narrow, you know? So, I don't want you getting anybody in trouble, okay?" Once satisfied that her therapist wouldn't be notifying the authorities about anything anyone else in her family did, Sam recounted the day Uncle Carmine taught her how to pick a lock. "When we were little, me and Mel, and we couldn't take care of ourselves, my mom used to have Carmine come stay with us on the weekends when she would go out of town. Mel usually just ignored him. She would do homework, lock herself in her room, and read for the whole weekend. He would always have people over, and they'd stay up late, talkin' and drinkin' in the kitchen. I just..." Sam shrugged, not wanting to admit it, even after striking up her deal. "I don't like to be left out, you know? I always wanted to stay up late with them too, get to eat pizza and drink soda all night. It looked like they were having fun. Uncle C told me I could if I get beat him at getting his special suit case open." Sam laughed now, a genuine laugh, with her head thrown back and her shoulders shaking. "He probably didn't think I could do it, but you know, I've always been his favorite, cause I don't take no chizz from anyone. He showed me how once, taking one of Mel's hair pins from the bowl on the table, and putting it in the lock. He kind of twisted it, just a little bit to the right, then pushed it up and pulled back, and snap! It only took him about forty seconds, maybe." Sam paused again to watch the doctor.
Josephine wasn't looking at her, instead writing Carmine – possible father figure in place of absentee?
"If you tell anyone I said this, I'll deny it, but I learn fast. I just have bad grades cause school is boring. You don't learn the good stuff there."
"Sam?" Dr. Perkins looked up, puzzled at the admission.
"I'm tellin' you that so you know that when I say I got the suitcase open in half the time, I'm not lyin'."
"On your first try?"
"Yep."
"I bet that impressed your uncle."
Scarfing down another handful of of trail mix, she mumbled, "I guess. He kind of patted me on the head, and let me watch TV with them. They just watched the news." She shrugged again, chewing thoughtfully. "My cousin Gino thought I'd done it before."
"I see."
Trust issues within the family was added to the notepad.
"So what happened when you got lost in the woods?" Sam was quick to turn the conversation back around, eager to make sure their bargain stayed in tact.
Josephine propped her pen over one ear, trying to show Sam that this was a conversation, that she didn't have to take notes on her the entire time. "I wandered around for about an hour before my flashlight went out, and I sat down, right where it died, and I waited until my dad found me. It felt like it was all night, but it was only about another hour. I was cold and terrified though. I didn't like being alone in the dark. I was afraid of the dark when I was little."
"Hmm. So was my sister." Sam shrugged again. It was becoming her go-to response when she couldn't think of anything else to say. She was trying not to snap at this woman, trying not to be too rude. Jo could have her put back in juvie if she wanted to, and Sam had promised Carly that she wouldn't go back any time in the near future.
"So, you can get into combination locks to, no problem?" Dr. Perkins cocked an eyebrow at Sam.
"Why, you got a locker you need to get into? Sam joked. She nodded though. "Combination locks are easier. You just gotta listen for the clicks."
"I see. The clicks." She nodded as though she understood, and Sam rolled her eyes indulgently.
"You know, combination locks have all those tumblers in them that line up when you get to the right number. They click in place. If you listen, you can hear the click."
Josephine nodded her head in understanding, just as the timer went off signaling the end of the session.
"Looks like we're out of time, Doc. See you next week." Sam was up, off the couch, and out the door with her backpack before Dr. Perkins could even say goodbye.
Much smarter than she wants people to think was the last notation of the day.
Word Count: 2506
A/N: I appear to be on a bit of a role. I have no idea why. Maybe it's because I haven't written anything novel length in a while, and I was ready to get back in to it. This chapter was supposed to be something completely different, but the lock picking story kind of took over. Haha. There will be appearances from some series regulars in the near future... as long as these smaller plot points don't get away from me. And we'll see a time jump soon too.
