A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the reviews I've been getting! I can't know what to work on if I don't know where I'm going wrong...
I thought maybe I should explain why I put in the last chapter, which didn't really have much in the way of a plot. I was just trying to show the relationship between Alice, Don, and Charlie. Get Don away from the protective older brother, and Charlie away from the studious, sensitive math genius. Have them act a little goofy, with no greater significance than teasing each other. Maybe it fell through, I don't know. That was my intention.
Okay, well, I've got some more here for you guys to R&R. I've got the next few chapters plotted out, so I know where this'll end up. Hope you have as much fun reading as I did writing!
And I have no idea about the treatment or diagnosis of psychological disorders. The stuff here's just the result of my own thoughts and about an hour on WebMD.
Chapter Three
Had Alice not been in such a rush to find Derick she may have noticed how anonymous Benjamin Zander Middle School was. The three story red brick building, wire-meshed plate glass windows, sadly hopeful potted plants lining the windows on the way to the main office. Nothing in the school stood out.
But Alice's mind was not on her surroundings, not on the students giving her sideways glances as she dashed towards the office. The whole ride over nothing but disaster scenarios played out in her mind.
The boy was catatonic, his mind unable to handle the ups and down of the last month, having finally snapped. Damaged beyond repair...
The boy was hopelessly withdrawn, failing to respond to Alice's gentle and time-honored approach. Leaving only institutionalization and medication...
The boy was suicidal, recognizing only the pain he'd caused his family. All he was searching for now was a method of his demise...
He suffered a mental break, multiple personalities. Which one would meet her when she arrived...
Might this month signal the beginnings of an attachment disorder? nervous behavior? anxiety? substance abuse later in life? Certainly adjustment disorder. He's showing signs of that already. There was enough stress in his life right now to trigger just about anything from schizophrenia to separation anxiety. But what had happened? Any of these? Which one could she have prevented?
Alice had tried to make herself calm down, think rationally, understand she wouldn't be able to properly diagnose until she got to Derick, until she saw him. And it would have worked, in a cold, dispassionate clinical situation. But Derick had gotten under Alice's skin, as most of her kids did, and right now she was a mother hen scared shitless.
When she found Christopher, Emily, and Derick in the office, she had to resist the urge to run over to Derick and start clucking at him. No, she'd have to put her emotions aside, be the professional, take this very, very slowly or she could make it much, much worse.
The story was told to her again, a little longer but without much more information, this time from Christopher rather than his mother or the principal, Ray Schrimsher. Also waiting for her was the school psychologist, Blaine Shorr. Seeing the doctor, an unexpected jealousy sprang up, so sudden it shocked her. It was logical for the woman to be here, logical for the school psychologist to tend to Derick when he was so withdrawn. He needed psychiatric help, here was a psychologist.
Why on earth did Alice care?
It was irrational, illogical, and something wholly derived from her territorial subconscious. But that was for later.
Now, the boys.
It wasn't a story she hadn't heard a thousand times before, but it was different now for her to see it. They weren't events relayed to her in her office, a week after it'd happened, the bruises already fading. Now, everything was raw; the darkening skin along Christopher's jaw, the swelling, the battered knuckles newly scabbed, tiny spots of blood on wrinkled and dirty clothing. And there was pain in the boy's voice. Terror in the way he moved. Guilt caused his eyes to drift over to Derick, who sat staring at the ground at his feet, not moving or blinking as the day's events were rehashed.
Alice nodded at the story's end. Dr. Shorr made some moves as if to request Alice consult with her for a moment, but Alice ignored her.
The boys, the boys.
So Alice turned to Christopher and spoke a few words to him, letting him sit them down in a bank of chairs. The ever-observant part of Alice's mind noticed he'd chosen the chairs furthest from the door, away from the windows where his new classmates might see. A tiny speck of teenage insecurity, but that wasn't why she was here.
She listens to the elder brother for a few minutes, asking a few questions. When she tells him that she needs to go work with Derick now, but they'll talk later, Alice sees the emotion that play almost too often in his eyes. Anger at being brushed aside, guilt for his anger, and a very, very tired love and concern for his little brother. But he nods once, giving her the smallest hint of a smile, and a tight, almost fierce, hug.
He'll be okay, she tells herself. Looking from Derick to Principal Schrimsher, Alice asked. "Is there a spare conference room Derick and I could use?"
The principal nods and opens a door a little ways down from where Alice spoke to Christopher.
My god, the man even looks like a middle school principal. Alice chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. Has the wardrobe even changed since I was in school?
The same observant side recognized this was her coping skill, to find a modicum of humor in this tense, almost unbearable situation. She had to shake her head to clear the thought.
"C'mon, Derick, let's go talk," Alice said, raising her voice, praying that the boy heard her words and somehow acted on them. That he showed some kind of free will or free thought, that he didn't prove to her that he was withdrawn too completely for her to be of any assistance.
"Derick, sweetheart, Alice asked you something," Emily pleaded with her littlest boy. She smoothed his hair nervously, her voice and hand trembling in time. She'd been trying to be strong for so long now, how much more did she have to give? How much more could she take?
"Emily," Alice whispered softly, hoping a softer tone would make it easier for the woman to step away. Whether it did or not was for later, right now Alice focused on the boy, and if for that reason alone, Emily moved away.
"Derick, let's go," she repeated. Still the boy made no move. Alice began praying, pleading with what Power was listening.
God, she was getting tired.
She could use a day off.
She could use a drink.
She could use Dr. Shorr getting off her back.
No! Focus.
Alice walked over to Derick and crouched at his feet, bending so her eyes were in line with his; an odd muscle strained at the unusual pose, but she ignored it. Now was not the time. "Derick, look at me. Look at me," she commanded.
There! There, for an instant, Derick's eyes locked onto her before he turned his head and let his eyes blur. That was all the recognition Alice needed. He was not catatonic. He was not so far gone he did not register the real world. He was a bit hidden away. She could work with this.
Standing up, trying not to smile, Alice extended her hand to him. Derick flinched for a moment, thinking she was about to strike him. Somewhere behind her left shoulder Emily whimpered at that, but Alice ignored her, keeping her attention on Derick, willing her hand not to tremble.
She stood like that for thirty terrifyingly drawn out seconds before Derick made a move. It was so slow that Alice almost didn't see it until he was up, out of his chair. The first thing he did was look up from the floor to her hand, then his gaze flicked down to his own. Then he stood up, picked up his backpack, and headed for the empty conference room.
Derick had paused, considered, and then acted. Had he retreated to a younger mental age, he would have taken the proffered hand without hesitation, seeking comfort as a child does. Had he merely retreated into his mind, he would have ignored the hand and collected his bag. He considered. He thought. He chose not to take her hand. This was very, very good.
And as Alice walked passed Emily and Christopher she gave them a look, a smile that she hoped would put all of that into words. When she gave them a nod, they sighed, relieved, and smiled back. As she closed the conference door behind them, Alice saw Emily hugging Christopher.
A moment of terror passed through her, wondering if she was worthy of such faith.
Derick stood next to the door, backpack on his back, less than an arm's reach from Alice.
"Why don't we sit down?" Alice asked. That was a good question. Easy enough to gauge whether he heard, whether he was capable of of forming a choice between half dozen chairs in the room. That should give her more clues to work with, more data.
This time Derick didn't hesitate, but reacted immediately, putting his backpack down on the table and sitting in a chair next to it. He reacted slower than normal, but still an immediate reaction. There was no jerking to movements, as sometimes designates deeper regressions, so that was a good sign.
And so Alice began as she always began, she spoke. "Before I came over here I was with my friend, Charlie; we went to school together. You'd like him, Derick. He's a lot like you. Really good at math; really good at it. And he's technically a genius too, for whatever that means; got the pieces of paper saying so and everything. He teaches over at Cal Sci university, ever heard of it?"
Alice paused, hoping to get a response out of Derick, but none came. A casual observer would think she was wasting her time, that Derick wasn't listening, but after the last week, alice knew he was. How still his hands were; when he wasn't listening they were always twitching, working out some math problem in his head. There was how he leaned, ever so slightly, towards her. How he tilted his head a bit to help him hear. Oh yes, Derick was listening, he just wasn't responding.
"No? Well, that's okay, it's a small university. Now, with UCLA, Cal State, UC-Berkeley, even California Polytech, those I could see you hearing of, but Cal Sci. Nah. I didn't even know about it until Charlie went there. Not that he didn't get offers to work at those places, he just wanted to stay close to home."
Derick leaned forward, shifting his gaze to his backpack, and for one desperate moment Alice thought she was losing Derick's attention.
But then he unzipped his bag and started shuffling through the papers until he pulled out a magazine.
"Machina Ex Mathematica, hey Charlie reads that," she said, laughing, as he flipped through the pages. Finding what he wanted he laid the magazine on the table.
"Charlie?" Derick whispered.
"Yeah," Alice said, picking up the magazine, smiling. "Yeah, that's Charlie."
Sure enough, there was a black and white, 3x5 photo of Charlie standing next to a white board filled with the scratchings that made so much of his world. The article was about eight months old and detailed one of Charlie's papers. It was so filled with mathematical theory that Alice could barely make it through the first paragraph without getting lost, but it was the sort of thing that Charlie, and apparently Derick, lived for.
"You know Charles Eppes?" Derick asked, still whispering, but the lost look in his eyes lessening.
"Mm-hmm," Alice hummed, trying not to smile overly. She was happy, but if she looked too excited it might drive Derick away.
"You know Charles Eppes?" Derick repeated, a little stronger. His jaw dropped a few degrees, his eyes focused on the article. He reached out and took the magazine. "Really?" He looked up in her eyes. "Do you swear?"
"I can prove it," Alice said. "Come on."
With that Alice got up, and walked to the door. Without turning back to look at Derick, or at the confused faces of Derick's family or the school administrators, Alice walked to where she'd left her purse. From the sounds of footsteps behind her, Alice knew that Derick was there. She had the feeling that if she were to stop short, he'd run into her.
Rummaging through her purse she found her wallet. She flipped it open and showed Derick a photo.
"See? That was last year at my fifteenth high school reunion. See, there's me, Ryan, some of our friends, and right there, see, that's Charlie."
Alice had to laugh when she saw Derick's face drop. He took the wallet from her and looked back and forth between the photo and the magazine. Once he was satisfied he looked up to her, grinning.
"You do know Charles Eppes."
Alice nodded and laughed. Now it was safe.
The boy practically exploded. "You do know him! Mom! Mom! Chris! She knows Charles Eppes!" he started hopping around the room, unable to choose whether to show his mother or brother first. "She knows him! She knows him! Look!"
Watching Derick bounce around the room, everyone began to breathe again. Emily pulled Derick, protesting, into a hug and mouthed a sincere 'thank you' at Alice. Christopher didn't look at Alice, but she saw the relief and he didn't have to.
Even Ray Schrimsher and Dr. Shorr got to look at and compare the photos. And when Derick backed up against the doctor, letting her see, Alice felt not a twinge of jealousy.
Guess it was my mama bear instincts; didn't want a stranger getting close to my sick little one, Alice thought. Then, unbidden, a memory came back to her. The doctor's office three months ago. The news.
Alice shook her head violently, willing the painful memory away.
"Alice?" Emily asked, concerned. "Are you okay?"
"Bee," Alice lied, and swatted the air, praying no one would point out it was winter. "I'm allergic."
"Oh," Emily looked around the room for a moment. "But you're okay?"
"Mm-hmm," Alice lied, smiling for her. "Very."
"Hey! Ali!" Derick said, jumping back to her. "Has your friend, Charlie, told you about his adaptation of Wollenberg's fifth postulate? Where he says that Wollenberg got it wrong? He's told you right?"
"We don't normally talk about that stuff, squirt."
"No?" Derick's eyes grow wide. "He challenges a hundred years of conventional mathematical theory and he doesn't tell you about it?"
"I wouldn't understand most of it, Derick. My brain's very tiny," Alice laughs.
"Sure you would! I can explain it. See,"
"Derick," Alice interrupted, sensing the moment had come. "I didn't come here to talk about Charlie or Wollenberg or the validity of a hundred-year old postulate."
Derick took a deep sigh, and whimpered, "I know."
"You gonna tell me about it?"
"It's not new," he said, plopping down in a seat, still clutching the magazine and wallet fiercely. "Kurt Bains started teasing me after I told him I was out of school because I was in the hospital."
"And?" Alice prompted.
"And what?"
"Where were you ? Who was there? How'd you respond? How did it escalate?"
Derick rolled his eyes but continued. "I don't know them all, they were from a lot of different classes, since we were in the cafeteria. I just got angry and told him to stop. He wouldn't, then Christopher came over. Chris told Kurt to stop, then Kurt pushed me, and Chris clobbered him." Derick perked up. "Chris clobbered him real good, didn't ya, Chris?"
Christopher, to his credit, smiled and nodded, but added. "Sorry, Mom. I know I shouldn't have."
Emily recognized where the boys had put her and laughed. "Oh no, no, no. I say 'yes, Christopher, you shouldn't have' and you" she looks to Derick "get all pouty saying that I'm letting you get beat up." Derick laughed, knowing where his Mom was at. "But if I say 'no, you did the right thing' then they" she looks to the principal and administrator "think I'm a bad mother."
"So what will you say?" Derick asked, tickled. Christopher at his side, beaming.
"That you should never start a fight but always finish one."
It was one thing everyone in the room was satisfied with.
A little too easy? Maybe. I have no knowledge of the workings of the human mind, so who knows, maybe it is that easy.
I do have a question to pose: Do you guys think I'm making the chapters a bit too long? I just kinda write and they end up this length. Let me know.
