Nick made it down the hall and into the bathroom before emptying the contents of his stomach. He continued heaving until there was nothing left to come up, and he was left choking and gasping and sobbing, still clutching the side of the toilet. There was a quiet knock on the door and Dr. Gravis' voice came floating through Nick's haze.
"Nick? Are you ok? Can I come in?"
Nick didn't respond and he barely registered the door opening and Dr. Gravis stepping in. A second later, strong, warm hands were rubbing his shoulders and back, then a solid arm wrapped around his chest, supporting him.
"It's ok Nick, I've got you. Breathe deep for me, take slow deep breaths." Dr. Gravis kept up the slow, soothing litany until he felt Nick begin to relax. When Nick had calmed down enough to take stock of his surroundings, he realized he was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, his back braced up against Dr. Gravis' chest. Dr. Gravis, noticing the change in Nick, quietly said,
"Let's get you a drink so you can rinse out your mouth."
Nick nodded and let Dr. Gravis help him up. He silently accepted the cup of water Dr. Gravis handed to him, and swished the water around in his mouth several times. When he finally straightened up and turned around, he found Dr. Gravis looking at him with concern.
"Are you ok Nick?"
"I think so… I…" Nick trailed off, not sure of what to say. His face flushed and he stared at his shoes.
"Don't feel bad Nick, it's ok. It's not your fault. It happens sometimes, especially when you keep feelings all buried down inside you. They find a way out eventually."
Nick nodded slowly. He glanced up warily. "Do I have to go back in there?"
"I would really like it if you would try, Nick. Mr. Jim has more to tell you. You need to hear the rest of the story. I think it will help. You don't have to talk about anything, but I really want you to listen; it's important."
Nick sighed. There were too many emotions whirling around inside of Nick for him to pin down how he felt about going back to Dr. Gravis' office. It would be simple to just say he didn't want to go back, he felt sick again, he just wanted to go home. But he knew a part of him wanted to hear the rest of Mr. Jim's story, out of morbid curiosity if nothing else. And there was more too it, that Nick just didn't want to think about. "Ok," he whispered.
"Atta boy Nicky," Dr. Gravis said, and Nick felt himself smiling. He remembered several years ago when his dad was teaching him how to hit a baseball one Saturday. He kept swinging and missing, but when he finally connected with the ball, his dad's smile was bigger than his. And that's what his dad had said. 'Atta boy, Nicky.' It had meant that his dad was proud of him. Remembering that, Nick knew he had done the right thing, made the right choice. He had to return, to hear the rest of the story. If you fall off a horse…
Mr. Jim was pacing nervously, looking worried when Dr. Gravis led Nick back into the office. "Are you ok Nick?" he asked as soon as he saw them.
Nick nodded, and carefully resumed his seat on the couch.
"Maybe we should…" Jim started, with a quick glance at Dr. Gravis.
"No, it's all right. Go on," Dr. Gravis said, sitting back down behind his desk.
"Are you sure? I mean, I don't want…"
This time it was Nick who answered. "It's ok," he said quietly. "I'm fine."
Jim took a deep breath. "Ok. Well. Where were we?" He sank back down into his seat. "Umm…" Jim glanced nervously around, still disconcerted.
"What happened?" Nick asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did anyone find out?"
Jim sighed, and shook his head thoughtfully. "When my parents picked me up, I was scared to tell them. I finally got up the courage and they didn't, or wouldn't, believe me. They said I made it up, or that it was some preteen boy's sexual fantasy. They told me never to talk about it again. So I didn't. I pushed it away, pretended it never happened. But the pain stayed with me. I blamed it on other things, but I always knew in the back of my mind what the real cause was. I wouldn't admit it to myself, so I tried to come up with ways of coping.
"I became my class clown, always joking around, never serious. I started hanging around with the 'bad crowd'. When I got a little older I experimented with drugs. They lifted me up for a while, but always dashed me lower than when I started. I dropped out of high school. When I was 17 I tried to commit suicide. My parents found me, barely conscious, under the tree outside my bedroom window. The rope I had tried to hang myself with had snapped.
"That event was the final embarrassment for my parents, so they sent me to live with my uncle on a ranch here in Texas. I didn't speak to my parents the three days between when they told me and when the shipped me off. But I was beyond caring about anything, so I left without saying goodbye to anyone. It was good to get away, but my problems followed me.
"My uncle lived alone on this huge ranch, ran it mostly himself with a few hired help. From the moment I got there I loved it. I loved the solitude and being with the animals. But that darkness was still inside me, I could still feel that monster. I kept getting in trouble, almost got arrested a couple times in the local town. Twice I nearly overdosed. Through it all, my uncle never said anything about it, just bailed me out or cleaned me up, or whatever I needed. He was an odd man. I think he knew there was something deeper going on, but he never tried to ask me about it.
"When I was 19 I took my uncle's shotgun and went out on the hill where I liked to sit and watch the animals. I had every intention of killing myself, but then a thought struck me; it wasn't fair. I hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't my fault. I never wanted her to do that to me. She had stolen my childhood from me, and if I pulled the trigger of that gun, she would have succeeded in stealing my entire life. I couldn't let her do that. I had to break her power over me. So I put the gun down.
"A few months later I checked myself into a mental institution. It was one of the few good ones of its time. I stayed there for almost 4 years, and I received intense therapy and counseling. I stayed there longer than I really needed, because I didn't know where else to go. I was 22, a high school dropout, no job, no skills other than what I learned on the farm. I started helping out with some of the other patients, and by the time I left I was more of an orderly than a patient. A few weeks after my 23rd birthday, I got news that my uncle had died, and he left me his ranch. Two years ago I turned the ranch into a retreat center for abused children.
"It took me nearly 10 years to make the decision to stop the pain, and years more to put my life together. It doesn't have to be like that for you. You can make the choice to not let what happened control your life. It happened, and you have to accept that before there is any chance that the pain will go away."
Nick stared down at the floor and realized that he was crying. He wanted to believe what Jim said, but he didn't want to risk opening himself up. He sat thinking, his head resting on his knees.
Jim sat staring at his hands, lost in his own thoughts. He was startled when Nick finally spoke.
"Will it?"Nick asked in a small voice.
"What?"
"Will it go away?"
"Yes it will. Maybe never completely, but it dulls and fades, gets replaced by other things. Better thoughts and feelings, more important things move in and push it away. But it is also true that you never are the same again. Something like this, it makes a man. It's up to you whether that's a good thing or not."
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while longer, before Jim stood up. "Well, I need to be going. It was nice to meet you Nick." Nick didn't respond or even move from his spot on the couch. Jim walked over to Dr. Gravis, who stood and shook his hand. They muttered a few words back and forth, then Jim turned to leave. He was at the door, reaching to open it, when he heard a soft voice behind him say,
"Thank you."
Jim smiled. Without turning around, he said, "You're going to be ok Nick."