I would have had this up a few hours earlier but it is so hard to type
while my husband was very loudly swearing in Dutch as he watched his
beloved Maple Leafs get their butts kicked by the Senators. Anyway, I
think there will just be one chapter after this to tie up some loose ends.
Ghoti is now in better beta betta heaven. He had a burial in the porcelain
sea, so all legalities will now be handled by Ratticus, the shifty-eyed
replacement hamster. I still don't own anything. Fox, Schwartz and Warner
do.
Chapter 30
Saturday, January 24
Seth eased himself off the couch. Gene Rayburn was talking loudly in his head. He turned to find the source of his irritation. His eyes focused on the tv screen. People he didn't recognize sporting bad hair cuts and even worse clothing were trying to match answers with "That 70's Show" rejects. As the fog cleared from his brain, he realized the show 'was' old. It was the 70's on this example of Gerald Ford era programming. Rubbing his eyes, he made his way to the kitchen, stopping to yawn and stretch. It was almost 7am.
3 hours, 31 minutes, 19 seconds.
Kirsten listened to the sounds of the marina. The small motors of the sailboats hummed as they exited the docks for the freedom of the ocean, waiting for the right moment to raise their sails. Cabin cruisers also left the marina, carrying sports fishermen whose main concern was the quality of their single malt scotch. Pushing the blankets off, she padded to the washroom and turned on the shower. It had been a long, sleepless night. Kirsten could hear the sounds of the tv coming from the living room. Seth had fallen asleep on the couch. She checked in on him before she had gone to bed, covering her son with a blanket. She thought about turning the tv off, finally deciding to leave it on, knowing the absence of noise would wake him up. She stood under the warm water, mentally preparing herself for the day. Dr. Rodriguez didn't call last night. Kirsten jumped every time the phone rang, praying it wasn't the clinic calling with bad news, but wishing the doctor would have at least called with an update. Sandy had called to let her know he was staying at the house and would drive out in the morning. Despite the physical distance between them, she felt the emotional bond of her husband. Her father called as well, saying he'd come down Saturday evening. He reminded his daughter that they would get through this ordeal as a family.
Sandy stared out at the ocean and watched the waves curl, white froth carving through the azure blanket. Refractory images of Ryan's breakdown played in his mind. Logically he knew it could not have been prevented, but that didn't stop the guilt he felt for not seeing the warning signs earlier.
He had called Trey the night before. The conversation, while short, went much better than the previous one. Sandy promised Trey he would keep him informed of his brother's progress. He also called Ryan's probation officer, Steve Jennings and updated him on the boy's condition. The last phone call he made before hiding in the house was to Ryan's social worker. Sandy told her he would send all of Ryan's medical files to her as soon as he could. She let him know that she was pleased with Ryan's progress in school and was happy his placement with the Cohen's was working out. Their emotional investment in him surprised her. It was one of the few bright spots in her heavy case load.
Sandy spent the rest of the night watching "The Game Show" channel, yelling out answers and throwing his hands up in frustration. He hated "The Match Game" as a kid. Age didn't make it any better. It was still stupid. While he waited for the coffee pot to finish brewing, Sandy quickly packed a few more things for his family and straightened out the family room. He poured his coffee into an oversized travel mug, rinsed the pot out and got in the car, stopping only to call Dr. Kim to let her know that the family was extending their 'holidays' for another week. Loading a Steely Dan cd into the car stereo, he pulled out of the driveway. It would be a long 90 minutes before he could hug his wife again.
2 hours, 52 minutes, 3 seconds.
Ryan turned up the hot water until he felt the comforting stinging sensation on his shoulders. The thermal controls prevented the water from scalding him, yet it was hot enough to envelop the washroom in a steamy fog. It was the first time in a long while he slept through the night without painful images and shadows. Oddly enough, the heat from the shower seemed to alleviate the vertigo that plagued him since he came out of his catatonic state. He closed his eyes and turned, letting the hot water pelt his chest, thinking about the last 6 months. He had gone from Ryan Atwood, son of a bitch and a felon, inhabiting a cell in juvenile lock up to Ryan Atwood, 'new' son of Sandy and Kirsten Cohen, currently inhabiting a gilded cell in a mental hospital.
"Ryan..." a gentle but firm voice called him. "You've been in there for over 20 minutes... It's time to finish up..."
"Okay." He answered back, grabbing for the soap. At least the guards were a lot nicer here.
* * * * *
His hands gripped the walker so tightly Ryan's knuckles were turning white. The dizziness returned full force after getting out of the shower. Dr. Rodriguez greeted him with a pill and a choice. Breakfast in the dining room or breakfast in the dining room. He chose the latter. As he sat at the small table with her, he noticed all the other patients or 'clients' were each sitting at their own tables with a staff member. The scene could have been set in any upscale restaurant. The room looked anything but institutional. A plate of French toast, sliced fruit and a glass of orange juice was set in front of him. He whispered his thanks to the kitchen porter and picked up his fork. Hunger won out over nausea.
* * * * *
They were back in the lounge. Ryan was once again sitting on one couch while Dr. Rodriguez was seated on the other. The shredded blue reminders of yesterday were gone. He looked up expectantly at the doctor.
"S-s-so now what?"
She smiled at him.
"What would you like to talk about?"
Ryan thought a moment.
"How ab-about Wal-mart and it's in-influences on the global economy p-p- paralleling what's written in th-the Book of Rev-Revelations...?"
That caught the doctor off guard. She looked at Ryan as he kept a straight face. "This kid's got a quirky sense of humour" she thought to herself.
"Sorry Ryan. I can probably put up a good fight on the first part of the subject, but Revelations... not included in the Torah..."
The thick Yiddish accent she tacked on the end of her sentence was enough to make him lose his dead pan look. The smile on his face was a good start to the morning.
1 hour, 29 minutes, 41 seconds.
The beach house was too quiet when Sandy let himself in. No tv, no Death Taxi, Bright Flies or whatever it was Seth listened to. One guitar, 3 chords and a lot of complaining.
"Sandy!!"
He barely had time to look up before Kirsten nearly tackled him, kissing him deeply. It was right at this moment Seth walked in from the deck.
"Can't you guys keep your hands to yourselves while I'm around? C'mon.... will you at least step back and take a breath, maybe come up for air?"
Sandy and Kirsten pointedly ignored Seth for a few more moments.
"Would you stop now... You know with all this closeness, I'm surprised I was an only child for 16 and a ½ years..."
"It wasn't for lack of practice..." Sandy muttered, not wanting to stop the embrace.
Seth made appropriate gagging noises for a soon to be 17 year old.
"That is so not the image I want to have stuck in my brain, thank you very much... Can we go out for breakfast?"
This time, Sandy and Kirsten let a little light in between them.
"Seth, I just drove through morning rush hour all the way from Newport... All I want is a cup of coffee and to relax..."
"It'll make the next 1 hour, 28 minutes and 19 seconds go by much faster..."
Kirsten grabbed the keys and her purse off the counter.
"I'm driving..."
* * * * *
"I think they're going to see me as 'damaged goods'..." Ryan hesitated and lowered his voice. "It'll change how they think of me..."
Dr Rodriguez watched as Ryan's finger wound its way around the hem of his t- shirt. She had asked him if he thought the Cohens would feel any different about him after his breakdown.
"So, when the Cohens took guardianship of you, the thought they were getting a smart 16 year old with no emotional baggage at all?"
Ryan's finger managed to work a small hole in his shirt. He started picking at it until the thread holding the hem came loose. Dr. Rodriguez knew she needed to supply Ryan with a sturdier tactile diversion for their next session.
"I-I-I don't know wh-what they thought... S-Sandy said we were cut from the s- same deck, but he's like the 'K-king of Hearts'...I'm...." Ryan paused. "I still d-d-don't know the real r-reason they took me in... I don't want t-t-to ask..."
Dr. Rodriguez leaned into the corner of the couch, her casual way of sitting belying the seriousness in her voice.
"You don't want to ask or you're afraid to ask?"
"It's the s-s-same thing..." Ryan shot back, pulling at the threads of his now hemless t-shirt.
Dr. Rodriguez shook her head.
"No they're not. The Cohens wanted to provide you with love, parental guidance, a safe, secure home, a good education, not to mention more material things you can probably imagine and you haven't asked them why?"
She saw Ryan's eyes become hard and angry. This was the last barrier she needed to knock down. Although she knew Ryan felt in his heart the Cohens loved him and considered him to be their son, his mind didn't always believe it. He still had issues of doubt regarding his place in the family. It became apparent when Ryan had said yesterday that he 'had' to believe the Cohens cared for him. Dr. Rodriguez knew she had to help him realize just how much he meant to them.
"Fine!" Ryan said coldly, choosing to ignore what the doctor had said previously about the use of that particular 'f' word. Oliver's words to him in the hospital came back full force.
"I'm afraid to ask, okay... I'm afraid I'm going to find out that I'm just their pet charitable cause, or Kirsten took me in just to piss her father off and as soon as I'm 18 I'm out on my ass again... Why the hell do they want me...My own mother didn't?"
Ryan's voice rose.
"It doesn't matter anyway... It's over... The Cohens have gotta be tired of all the shit I've put them through..."
The ragged bottom of his t-shirt was testimony to his emotional state. He leaned forward to reach for his walker.
"Sit down... We're not finished yet..."
Ryan was about to argue when he saw the "don't fuck with me look" from Dr. Rodriguez.
"If the Cohens wanted to feel noble they would have taken in a stray cat. Yesterday, you told me that you 'had' to believe the Cohens cared about you, but you didn't tell me if you 'did' believe it. I can help you deal with your past, but I can't make you believe the Cohens love you and need you. You have to do that for yourself. Let your head believe what your heart already knows...Let them in..."
Ryan slouched down on the couch and closed his eyes. Dr. Rodriguez had broken through his last defense. He was now exposed to the possibility of being hurt again, but this time he had a family to support him, to make him a stronger person. For the first time in his life, he would be whole.
* * * * *
The Cohens waited anxiously for Ryan in his room. Seth was unnaturally subdued as he waited for his brother and best friend. Squeaky footsteps announced Ryan's arrival. So much for stealth... He had just enough time to smile at the Cohens before Kirsten reached out and pulled him into a hug. The physical pain the hug caused his healing ribs was overshadowed by the love and security it gave his healing soul.
Chapter 30
Saturday, January 24
Seth eased himself off the couch. Gene Rayburn was talking loudly in his head. He turned to find the source of his irritation. His eyes focused on the tv screen. People he didn't recognize sporting bad hair cuts and even worse clothing were trying to match answers with "That 70's Show" rejects. As the fog cleared from his brain, he realized the show 'was' old. It was the 70's on this example of Gerald Ford era programming. Rubbing his eyes, he made his way to the kitchen, stopping to yawn and stretch. It was almost 7am.
3 hours, 31 minutes, 19 seconds.
Kirsten listened to the sounds of the marina. The small motors of the sailboats hummed as they exited the docks for the freedom of the ocean, waiting for the right moment to raise their sails. Cabin cruisers also left the marina, carrying sports fishermen whose main concern was the quality of their single malt scotch. Pushing the blankets off, she padded to the washroom and turned on the shower. It had been a long, sleepless night. Kirsten could hear the sounds of the tv coming from the living room. Seth had fallen asleep on the couch. She checked in on him before she had gone to bed, covering her son with a blanket. She thought about turning the tv off, finally deciding to leave it on, knowing the absence of noise would wake him up. She stood under the warm water, mentally preparing herself for the day. Dr. Rodriguez didn't call last night. Kirsten jumped every time the phone rang, praying it wasn't the clinic calling with bad news, but wishing the doctor would have at least called with an update. Sandy had called to let her know he was staying at the house and would drive out in the morning. Despite the physical distance between them, she felt the emotional bond of her husband. Her father called as well, saying he'd come down Saturday evening. He reminded his daughter that they would get through this ordeal as a family.
Sandy stared out at the ocean and watched the waves curl, white froth carving through the azure blanket. Refractory images of Ryan's breakdown played in his mind. Logically he knew it could not have been prevented, but that didn't stop the guilt he felt for not seeing the warning signs earlier.
He had called Trey the night before. The conversation, while short, went much better than the previous one. Sandy promised Trey he would keep him informed of his brother's progress. He also called Ryan's probation officer, Steve Jennings and updated him on the boy's condition. The last phone call he made before hiding in the house was to Ryan's social worker. Sandy told her he would send all of Ryan's medical files to her as soon as he could. She let him know that she was pleased with Ryan's progress in school and was happy his placement with the Cohen's was working out. Their emotional investment in him surprised her. It was one of the few bright spots in her heavy case load.
Sandy spent the rest of the night watching "The Game Show" channel, yelling out answers and throwing his hands up in frustration. He hated "The Match Game" as a kid. Age didn't make it any better. It was still stupid. While he waited for the coffee pot to finish brewing, Sandy quickly packed a few more things for his family and straightened out the family room. He poured his coffee into an oversized travel mug, rinsed the pot out and got in the car, stopping only to call Dr. Kim to let her know that the family was extending their 'holidays' for another week. Loading a Steely Dan cd into the car stereo, he pulled out of the driveway. It would be a long 90 minutes before he could hug his wife again.
2 hours, 52 minutes, 3 seconds.
Ryan turned up the hot water until he felt the comforting stinging sensation on his shoulders. The thermal controls prevented the water from scalding him, yet it was hot enough to envelop the washroom in a steamy fog. It was the first time in a long while he slept through the night without painful images and shadows. Oddly enough, the heat from the shower seemed to alleviate the vertigo that plagued him since he came out of his catatonic state. He closed his eyes and turned, letting the hot water pelt his chest, thinking about the last 6 months. He had gone from Ryan Atwood, son of a bitch and a felon, inhabiting a cell in juvenile lock up to Ryan Atwood, 'new' son of Sandy and Kirsten Cohen, currently inhabiting a gilded cell in a mental hospital.
"Ryan..." a gentle but firm voice called him. "You've been in there for over 20 minutes... It's time to finish up..."
"Okay." He answered back, grabbing for the soap. At least the guards were a lot nicer here.
* * * * *
His hands gripped the walker so tightly Ryan's knuckles were turning white. The dizziness returned full force after getting out of the shower. Dr. Rodriguez greeted him with a pill and a choice. Breakfast in the dining room or breakfast in the dining room. He chose the latter. As he sat at the small table with her, he noticed all the other patients or 'clients' were each sitting at their own tables with a staff member. The scene could have been set in any upscale restaurant. The room looked anything but institutional. A plate of French toast, sliced fruit and a glass of orange juice was set in front of him. He whispered his thanks to the kitchen porter and picked up his fork. Hunger won out over nausea.
* * * * *
They were back in the lounge. Ryan was once again sitting on one couch while Dr. Rodriguez was seated on the other. The shredded blue reminders of yesterday were gone. He looked up expectantly at the doctor.
"S-s-so now what?"
She smiled at him.
"What would you like to talk about?"
Ryan thought a moment.
"How ab-about Wal-mart and it's in-influences on the global economy p-p- paralleling what's written in th-the Book of Rev-Revelations...?"
That caught the doctor off guard. She looked at Ryan as he kept a straight face. "This kid's got a quirky sense of humour" she thought to herself.
"Sorry Ryan. I can probably put up a good fight on the first part of the subject, but Revelations... not included in the Torah..."
The thick Yiddish accent she tacked on the end of her sentence was enough to make him lose his dead pan look. The smile on his face was a good start to the morning.
1 hour, 29 minutes, 41 seconds.
The beach house was too quiet when Sandy let himself in. No tv, no Death Taxi, Bright Flies or whatever it was Seth listened to. One guitar, 3 chords and a lot of complaining.
"Sandy!!"
He barely had time to look up before Kirsten nearly tackled him, kissing him deeply. It was right at this moment Seth walked in from the deck.
"Can't you guys keep your hands to yourselves while I'm around? C'mon.... will you at least step back and take a breath, maybe come up for air?"
Sandy and Kirsten pointedly ignored Seth for a few more moments.
"Would you stop now... You know with all this closeness, I'm surprised I was an only child for 16 and a ½ years..."
"It wasn't for lack of practice..." Sandy muttered, not wanting to stop the embrace.
Seth made appropriate gagging noises for a soon to be 17 year old.
"That is so not the image I want to have stuck in my brain, thank you very much... Can we go out for breakfast?"
This time, Sandy and Kirsten let a little light in between them.
"Seth, I just drove through morning rush hour all the way from Newport... All I want is a cup of coffee and to relax..."
"It'll make the next 1 hour, 28 minutes and 19 seconds go by much faster..."
Kirsten grabbed the keys and her purse off the counter.
"I'm driving..."
* * * * *
"I think they're going to see me as 'damaged goods'..." Ryan hesitated and lowered his voice. "It'll change how they think of me..."
Dr Rodriguez watched as Ryan's finger wound its way around the hem of his t- shirt. She had asked him if he thought the Cohens would feel any different about him after his breakdown.
"So, when the Cohens took guardianship of you, the thought they were getting a smart 16 year old with no emotional baggage at all?"
Ryan's finger managed to work a small hole in his shirt. He started picking at it until the thread holding the hem came loose. Dr. Rodriguez knew she needed to supply Ryan with a sturdier tactile diversion for their next session.
"I-I-I don't know wh-what they thought... S-Sandy said we were cut from the s- same deck, but he's like the 'K-king of Hearts'...I'm...." Ryan paused. "I still d-d-don't know the real r-reason they took me in... I don't want t-t-to ask..."
Dr. Rodriguez leaned into the corner of the couch, her casual way of sitting belying the seriousness in her voice.
"You don't want to ask or you're afraid to ask?"
"It's the s-s-same thing..." Ryan shot back, pulling at the threads of his now hemless t-shirt.
Dr. Rodriguez shook her head.
"No they're not. The Cohens wanted to provide you with love, parental guidance, a safe, secure home, a good education, not to mention more material things you can probably imagine and you haven't asked them why?"
She saw Ryan's eyes become hard and angry. This was the last barrier she needed to knock down. Although she knew Ryan felt in his heart the Cohens loved him and considered him to be their son, his mind didn't always believe it. He still had issues of doubt regarding his place in the family. It became apparent when Ryan had said yesterday that he 'had' to believe the Cohens cared for him. Dr. Rodriguez knew she had to help him realize just how much he meant to them.
"Fine!" Ryan said coldly, choosing to ignore what the doctor had said previously about the use of that particular 'f' word. Oliver's words to him in the hospital came back full force.
"I'm afraid to ask, okay... I'm afraid I'm going to find out that I'm just their pet charitable cause, or Kirsten took me in just to piss her father off and as soon as I'm 18 I'm out on my ass again... Why the hell do they want me...My own mother didn't?"
Ryan's voice rose.
"It doesn't matter anyway... It's over... The Cohens have gotta be tired of all the shit I've put them through..."
The ragged bottom of his t-shirt was testimony to his emotional state. He leaned forward to reach for his walker.
"Sit down... We're not finished yet..."
Ryan was about to argue when he saw the "don't fuck with me look" from Dr. Rodriguez.
"If the Cohens wanted to feel noble they would have taken in a stray cat. Yesterday, you told me that you 'had' to believe the Cohens cared about you, but you didn't tell me if you 'did' believe it. I can help you deal with your past, but I can't make you believe the Cohens love you and need you. You have to do that for yourself. Let your head believe what your heart already knows...Let them in..."
Ryan slouched down on the couch and closed his eyes. Dr. Rodriguez had broken through his last defense. He was now exposed to the possibility of being hurt again, but this time he had a family to support him, to make him a stronger person. For the first time in his life, he would be whole.
* * * * *
The Cohens waited anxiously for Ryan in his room. Seth was unnaturally subdued as he waited for his brother and best friend. Squeaky footsteps announced Ryan's arrival. So much for stealth... He had just enough time to smile at the Cohens before Kirsten reached out and pulled him into a hug. The physical pain the hug caused his healing ribs was overshadowed by the love and security it gave his healing soul.