Chapter 3 - The Roommate

A WAY OF LIVING

"Tomorrow belongs to those who prepare for it today." - Malcolm X

Rachel had a bounce in her step as she walked to her classroom on Monday morning. Ever since she had that fateful movie night on Friday with Lizzie, and well, Ross, she looked forward to finding out what God had in store for her.

She knew nothing about him. She figured he was a junior. But other than his name, and that he was in therapy, she knew nothing about him. Zilch, nada. But that did not lower her hopes to coincidentally bump into him somewhere on-campus. The thing is, she was intrigued by the guy who was at the cinema to watch a children's animated movie. And that too, alone.

"I don't really have any friends."

His words got to her. Was he for real? He had no one in his life to hang out with. No one to share his good days with, no one to talk about his bad days. Has he chosen to live solitarily? Is it the result of some tragic event that might have happened in his life? The possibilities are endless, she wondered. Maybe that is why he needs help from Doctor Pearson. And she could be his friend. She would not deny that she was a little skeptical if he was even looking for one.

Alas, with a glimmer of hope in her heart that he was, she entered the lecture room for her literature class.

Ross sat in Doctor Pearson's office as he waited for the old professor. It had been a week since his last session. He involuntarily tapped his feet on the floor, obviously nervous about the mental exhaustion that was to follow once the session began.

'I gotta do it.' He told himself. 'No matter how hard it is to relive the pain. I have to, if not for myself, for mom and dad… and my sister.'

"Hello, Ross." Doctor Pearson came in with a briefcase. "I hope you have not been here for long."

"No, no. It is fine."

"Do you need anything? Tea, coffee or water?" He asked as he switched the espresso machine. Ross just shook his head. Doctor Pearson put the filter in the machine and turned to look at Ross, observing his fidgety behavior. "So, did you do what I asked you to do?"

"Yes, I went to watch a movie. And, uh.. I also enrolled myself as a volunteer to coach the little league on Saturdays." Ross seemed proud that he was able to take the 'baby' steps, as the Doctor would put.

"Baseball?" He poured himself a cup and came to sit on his chair.

"Football." He said plainly.

"Why not go for the upcoming university tryouts?"

"That-that sounds like a big commitment. I don't know if I am ready to do that."

"Fair enough. So, anything interesting happen?" He noted Ross got confused by his enquiry. "I mean, at the theatre or at the field, anything?"

"Not really. Just regular stuff."

"Missing any lectures lately?" Doctor Pearson asked, while continuously writing his assessment in his diary.

"Not anymore."

He closed his diary, and took a sip of his coffee. "Ross, have you heard the saying, 'We do not suffer from the shock of our trauma, but we make out of it just what suits our purposes'?" Ross shook his head. "It's by Alfred Adler. The fact that you are here tells me you want to lead the rest of your life.. somewhat normally. By what you have shared with me, I understand that you are here to find a purpose. Am I right?" Ross processed his words, and nodded his head slowly. "Now you should understand that you also need to share your experiences with people in your personal circle." Ross kept looking at him, too confused to respond. He did not even know if Dr Pearson even expected one. Sensing his bafflement, the Doctor continued, "Have you ever shared your feelings with anyone else before me?"

"Yes, I was assigned a counsellor after my.. uh, parents, hmm, they died."

"What about your foster parents?" Pearson inquired.

This made Ross uncomfortable. "What about them?"

"Didn't you ever talk to them?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Didn't feel the need to."

"That's what you keep telling yourself. Tell me, did they abuse you in any way?"

"No, no. They were, uh, not like that. They were nice to me." Ross looked down. "It's strange, actually. They were the ones who found me, you know, on the road, and- and called 9-1-1, about, uhh-the accident. They had chosen me, I was not just-just a random kid thrown in their house as they had enrolled into a foster list." He sighed with sorrow. "They gave me my space when I first started living with them. They are good people. It's just that, they simply aren't my parents." He directed his eyes to the window pane as he appeared deep in thought. "I did not mind living with them. But, uh, there were times that, hmm, I ran away from their house."

"Hmm-hmm, and why is that?"

Ross looked back at his doctor. "Whenever they talked about adopting me, I, uh, I used to climb down the tree through the window of my room on the first floor. I would-I would hide in the cellar." Ross sighed.

"How many times did you run?"

"Three, maybe four." The room filled with silence. "I know, I was a troubled kid." Ross admitted to himself.

"I never said that. They must have tried to give you back to the state?"

Ross shook his head 'no'. "Like I said before, they had chosen me. They told me I reminded them too much of their son. He died of Leukaemia when he was 10." He sniffled. "The last time I ran away, and I came back, that was when they told me how they lost him. So I made a deal with them. I assured them I would fulfill all responsibilities, you know, as a child is supposed to. But I made them promise that they never adopted me."

"That's a big promise."

"I know, but I just could not imagine being adopted legally by another couple." Ross said, probably the most confident words that came out of his mouth during the session.

"I take that you still talk to them."

"Once a week, yes."

"Do you visit them?"

"I haven't, not in a while. Not since I started having those dreams about my sister."

"And you live alone?"

"I, uh, I have a roommate."

"And you two are friends?"

"I wouldn't label it that way. The thing is, we talk, but on a 'need' basis, you know, just about apartment related stuff, water, radiator, and all-" He trailed off.

"What's wrong with him? Is he rude?"

"No, he's, uh, the truth is, he's the complete opposite of rude. But it is difficult to have a decent conversation with him." Ross looked at the confused expression of his therapist, so he continued. "He spends every waking hour of his day using sarcasm!"

(...)

Ross threw his keys on the counter next to the door as he entered his apartment. Chandler paused the video game he was playing to acknowledge his presence. After living with him for almost two years now, he knew his roommate thought of him as a man child, so he tried to avoid any confrontation involving his living habits. As far as he knew, Ross did not care much about how he lived as long as he did not come in his way. He had assessed him as a guy of few words.

"Hey, Man. You can watch the TV." Chandler put the remote on the table in front of him. Usually, Ross would just nod and go to his room to freshen up, but this particular time, he was on a mission. Doctor Pearson set him up to it.

"No, no. Don't end your game midway for me." Ross said politely. Chandler just looked at him dumbfounded. Did he just actually continue a conversation? "Uh.. Do you mind if I join you? It has been a while since I played one of these." If Chandler was not surprised by his earlier words, now he was definitely in a shock. All he could do was to nod. "Alright, I'll just quickly go to the bathroom first."

Chandler continued to sit on the couch with his hands on his temple, as if rewinding and playing the scene that took place a few moments before. He must be out of his mind. Ross never spoke with him. Why was he being all pally all of a sudden? Their conversations were strictly 'business'.

'The rent is due'

'Do you mind if I eat your yoghurt? I'll pay you back.'

'Hey, I got the water faucet repaired. Your share is thirty bucks.'

And all of a sudden, he was acting 'normal'.

Ross was astounded when he came outside. Ignoring his roommate's posture, but noting his stomach growling, he asked "You wanna get some Chinese take out? There's this new place right down the 5th. I got a menu." He waved a piece of multi-colored paper to get his attention.

"Sure."

Chandler watched as Ross called up the restaurant with his cell. Whatever happened to him, he just thanked his stars. God knew he had no decent friends in the village. All his high school friends grew apart, and his classmates were all geeks. 'Who comes to a management class dressed like a school kid, with big spectacles and bags loaded with books by pounds?' He wondered as he thought about the weight of the bags the guys in his class carried everyday.

When he got Ross as a roommate, he thought he was actually in the company of a sane person, but he chuckled at the irony.

"What's funny?" Ross asked as he came back to sit next to him. Chandler got all nervous, and he knew he had to make up what he was thinking.

"Donald Duck!" A little too loud.

"Excuse me?" Ross was clearly confused.

"Come on, he never wears pants, right? But whenever he comes out of the shower, you see a towel wrapped around his waist. I mean, what is up with that?" Ross stared at him. As the seconds passed, Chandler feared that he will go back to his old ways, but to his surprise, Ross broke into laughter, and Chandler joined in.

And just like that, the wall that Ross had created between him and Chandler was broken.