I have no idea when I finally fell asleep - all I can say is that when Soda came in, roughly shaking me awake, since Darry had overslept and we were all late, I was not happy. Not at all, considering how much he scared me by jumping on me to wake me up.
"What the heck? Get off me!" I yelled, pushing him off, and punching Soda in the chest, unintentionally. I heard him react and felt bad, but was annoyed, knowing he should have known he was scaring me. Hell, pulling a blade on him hadn't been warning enough?
"Sorry, baby," he whispered, standing next to the bed and rubbing my shoulder. "I forgot."
"Must be nice," I grumbled. God, how could he forget, and I couldn't, when I wanted to, so much… Didn't seem fair, from my perspective, anyway.
"We overslept… we gotta get goin' in ten minutes," Soda said, either not hearing or choosing to ignore my comment.
"Ten minutes? That's great," I complained, sitting up. I already had a headache, from lack of sleep, I was guessing. Clearly there was no time for a shower and no clean laundry seemed to have made it back to my room in a while, so I went off in search of laundry baskets, finding two in the living room.
"Scout, you can't wear pajamas to counseling, they'll think you really are nuts," Pony teased as he went by.
"Shut up," I snapped, and he laughed at me.
"I'm serious, Pony. Leave me alone." Darry stepped in to see what was going on between the two of us.
"Scout, c'mon, you gotta get dressed. What's the problem in here?"
"Pony's beng an idiot, and I'm trying to get dressed, I can't find any clothes. Are these clean?" I asked, pulling a shirt and a pair of shorts from the pile.
"Pony, lay off, you know better than to pick on her when she first gets up. And yeah, those are clean… Soda was supposed to fold them yesterday afternoon," he added, loud enough for Soda to hear.
"Sorry… "Soda's voice trailed down from the kitchen. "I'll get to it, Dar. I promise."
"It's too late now," I mumbled to myself, trying to smooth out the wrinkles as I carried them down to my room to change.
By the time I was finished changing and had brushed my hair and teeth, Darry was herding us all out the door, telling me there was no time for breakfast. I didn't care – I didn't feel good anyway – besides the headache, I just felt achy all over.
Since it was still raining, he was making two trips: one to drop off me and Soda, then another to drop off Pony. Otherwise, somebody would have to sit in the back and get soaked.
"We really need to get a car," Soda said, to no one in particular, as he lifted me up into the middle and slid in next to me. Again, Soda didn't seem worried at all about where we were headed, and I wondered if he planned to actually even talk to this person at all about anything that mattered. I still wasn't sure if I was planning to, either.
I didn't talk during the ride there, just listened to Darry and Soda talking about some car Soda was working on down at the station. When we finally pulled up to the place, Darry turned to face us both.
"Just be honest, okay? Nobody's gonna judge you on whatever you tell this person, remember that. This is supposed to help you, so please at least give it a try, 'kay baby? You might be surprised."
I didn't answer, and he squeezed my hand as Soda pulled me from the other direction.
"Ow!" I yanked my arm back from Soda, looking at where he'd grabbed me. At first I couldn't figure out where I'd gotten bruises on my wrist again, until I remembered Darry trying to pull me down the stairs the night before. I saw the recognition in his eyes as he figured it out, too.
"Jesus, did I do that to you? I swear, I didn't think I was pulling you that hard. Why didn't you say something?"
"I did, and you stopped as soon as I said it. I know you didn't mean it. You're always rough without meaning to be. It's fine. I'm fine."
"Well, it ain't fine. Somebody else did that you you, I'd be pissed off, so it ain't fine for me, either. I'm sorry," Darry said, and I felt bad, knowing he felt bad. I wished he'd never seen the bruise.
"It's okay, Darry, really. I should have just gone into the cellar. You were only trying to keep me safe. It was my own fault."
He didn't say anything for a few seconds and then broke out of his trance.
"Okay, so… I'll be back for you two at nine-thirty, then. Good Luck!" he called, as Soda and I headed into the building. I felt sick to my stomach, just from not knowing what to expect. For a second I was tempted to reach out for Soda's hand, but then I figured the last thing I needed was for this doctor's first impression of me to be a scared kid holding on to her big brother's hand. Soda pulled open the door for me and walked in ahead of him.
The office looked just like any other doctor's office waiting room… chairs, magazines, a fishtank. I headed immediately to the fishtank, glad for something to look at. Soda headed up to the reception desk.
"Can I help you?" She was young, and pretty. I vaguely wondered if she had a boyfriend, or a husband. She reminded me of the pictures of my own Mom, when she was younger.
"I'm Soda Curtis, and that's my sister, Scout… we have an eight-thirty appointment." I wondered if Darry had told Soda that the appointments were separate or if he thought we were going together.
"Ah, right… I see here, with Dr. Lee. You're her first appointment this morning, so why don't you just have a seat. She should be right out. The receptionist picked up the phone, announcing to someone, somewhere, that "your eight-thirty's here."
Soda came over and looked at the fish with me for a minute, rubbing my shoulders from behind.
"I bet Tang would like a fishtank," I said, trying to be funny but just not feeling it.
"Yeah, and I don't think the fish would last too long," Soda joked back, pulling me to sit.
"You want me to go in first?" he asked, quietly. I guess he did know we were going in separately.
"I don't care," I said, and I really didn't. It wasn't going to matter what order I went, I was pretty sure I wasn't going to like it, either way.
Just then a door opened into the back and Soda and I both jumped up. A petite, well-dressed Asian woman came out, and smiled when she saw us.
"Well, hello. You must be Scout and Sodapop, correct?"
"Yes, ma'am," Soda answered.
"Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Lee. Which one of you would like to come in first?" She looked at us expectantly. I didn't answer right away, but I was about to agree to go when Soda beat me to it.
"I'll go," he said, and gave my shoulder a squeeze.
"Alright then, Scout, why don't you just have a seat, and I'll be back out for you in a little while." She led Soda into her office and shut the door, leaving me alone with the receptionist.
At least she had something to do, she seemed busy with filing papers and stuff- meanwhile, I just sat there, staring at the fish tank, feeling a little bit like I could relate to those fish. Sometimes it just seemed that my life was put right out there, for everyone to see. And here I was, just moments away from being expected to tell my most personal, painful story to a complete stranger.
"Soda went first, huh?"
I jumped at the voice right behind me and turned to see Darry. People had started to filter in after Soda went in to see the doctor, and other doctors had come in and out with patients but I had tuned it all out, so I hadn't even seen Darry come in.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He put his arm around my shoulder.
"What are you doing here? I didn't even go in yet." I glanced at the wall clock and saw that it wasn't even nine o'clock.
"Well, I didn't have to work, so I figured I'd just come back after dropping off Pony, to make sure things were going okay, and to meet the doctor and all. Plus, I forgot to give Soda the check."
Oh, right. Darry was having to pay for this torture. That just made me hate the whole situation even more.
"So how's the doctor? Is it a man or a woman?"
"It's a woman. She's Chinese, or Japanese or something." I could never remember which language had the "Lee" last name. We didn't have a whole lot of either nationality in Tulsa. "She seemed nice."
"That's good." Darry grabbed a National Geographic and opened it up, stretching out his legs. I just sat there, feeling more anxious by the second.
Finally, the door opened and out came Soda, his eyes red. Clearly he had been crying, and I felt horrible that whatever he had to talk about had him so upset that he would cry in front of a complete stranger. Darry didn't look too comfortable with it, either. The doctor followed him out, telling him she would see him again the next week. I couldn't believe he'd agreed to come back again. I wanted to hug him and never let go.
"Okay Scout, it's your turn," she called, then noticing Darry. He held out his hand.
"I'm Darrel, Soda and Scout's older brother," he said. She took his hand.
"Dr. Lee," she answered. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I don't know your sister all that well yet, but your brother seems like an extraordinary young man."
I almost laughed. "Extraordinary" was certainly one word for Soda. I looked at him and smiled. He winked back. God, I loved him. Despite all that I was putting him through, he still could find it in him to try to make me relax.
"Okay, so, are you ready?" she asked, leading the way with her outstretched arm.
"We'll be right out here, Scout," Darry said, and I gave Soda an apologetic glance as I headed back into her office. I wondered what Soda was going to tell Darry – if he'd tell him whatever it was that had made him cry.
"Have a seat," the doctor said, closing the door behind us. I wondered if which seat I chose would give her some sort of secret insight into my personality. I looked around at the choices and chose a comfortable looking armchair a medium distance away from her desk. She tricked me, though, choosing an uncomfortable wooden chair - one a bit closer to me - for herself, rather than sitting at her desk.
"So, Scout, I usually start by telling all of my new patients that what goes on in this room is just between you and me, just as it would be with any doctor. It's up to you, to tell me as little or as much about whatever you choose, but, obviously, the goal in having you here is to help you work through whatever problems you're having. Are you with me so far?"
I didn't answer right away. I wasn't really upset with her – I realized that she was just trying to do her job, but I wasn't going to pretend I was happy about the situation, either.
"I should probably tell you, I didn't want to come here. And seeing that my brother's been crying only makes me want to be here even less."
"Well, I certainly appreciate your honesty. So why are you here, then?"
"Because my doctor said I had to… and my brother wanted me to."
"Your brother Sodapop?"
"No, Darry. Well, I don't know, maybe Soda too. But Darry wanted me to come, and that's mostly why I agreed to come, I mean, because of my brothers. They keep blaming themselves and feeling bad about stuff that happens that isn't even their fault, and I hate it. Is that why Soda was crying? Because he blames himself for stuff that happened to me?"
"I can't tell you what your brother and I talked about, unless he specifically asks me to, Scout. It's the same confidentiality for everyone, relatives or not."
"So if I tell you something, and I ask you to tell him what I said, you could?"
"I could, but wouldn't it just be easier for you to tell him yourself?"
"Well, no, because I don't think he believes me. I think he is afraid I'm lying just so I won't make him feel bad."
"Well, what is it you're trying to tell him that you don't think he believes?"
I wasn't sure where I had to start.
"Do you know… what happened to me? I mean, how things got all messed up to begin with?"
"I've seen your medical records, and your doctor made a note on your referral about why he was sending you, but other than that, I don't know the details."
"You mean Soda told you, but you can't tell me did, then. Right?"
"Well, you know I can't tell you, so I guess you're going to go on your own instinct with that one." She smiled. I guess if I had to do this with any doctor, this one wasn't all that bad.
"Well, I don't want to talk about… that… I mean, that night. But what I wish you could tell Soda … and Darry, and Pony – that's my other brother, and make them believe it, is that I don't blame them for anything that happened to me. I never did, and I still don't. I used to blame myself, and now I even know – because they convinced me – that it wasn't my fault either. But I feel like no matter how hard I try, Soda still blames himself."
I stopped to take a breath.
"So that's why I'm here. I didn't realize how much me being scared and just trying to … get back to okay – I didn't realize how much it was upsetting my brothers. Because I know they want to help me, but.. I'm not really sure they can."
"You said you're scared? What are you scared of?"
I don't think she had any idea of the enormity of what she was asking, and I don't think I did either, until I tried to come up with an answer. Spiders was the first thing that came to mind, but I knew that was not exactly what she was looking for.
"It's really hard to explain," I said, hoping she'd just let it go, but now that she had brought it up, I found I was a bit curious myself. What exactly was I afraid of? It wasn't really Steve, or tornadoes, or spiders, though those things all seemed to tie in, somehow."
"Well, if you're willing to try to explain it, I'll try to listen."
"I bit my lip, and thought, hard, finally hesitating with my words.
"Well, you know – my brothers – they're all I have left. I lost my Mom and Dad… and Darry got stuck with me – and Soda kinda did too… I know if Mom and Dad were still here, Darry would still be in college, and Soda would still be in school…"
I hesitated, and she didn't say anything, just giving me the time to think.
"These things happen to me – things I can't control – and they're bad, for me. But I try to handle them, okay. But then when my brothers start getting upset about those things…it makes me feel even worse. Because I don't want to be a burden on them – I don't want to be any more trouble than I already am, since already they have to feed me and spend money on me. That's what I'm afraid of."
"What?" She asked, "explain it to me, Scout. I don't understand what you're saying." I don't know when I'd started crying. "What exactly are you afraid of?"
"That I'm gonna be too much trouble and they are gonna hate me, because of how much they had to give up – because of how much their lives had to change because of me and stuff that happens to me." I choked back tears, as, finally, I said it. I could deal with a room full of Steves, a room full of spiders, and a whole summer full of tornadoes, but I couldn't deal with my family resenting me me for the burden I'd become to them.
She handed me a tissue.
"Have you told your brothers how you feel about this?" she asked, quietly.
"No," I said. "They think it's just… things that I'm afraid of, and if they make the things go away, I'll be better. But this is… it's inside me. They can't just make it disappear."
"Have your brothers ever said that they resent you, or think you're a burden?"
"No. Darry says I'm not, but I don't believe it. I can't believe he doesn't resent me, at least a little, for all he's had to give up 'cause of me."
"Well, have you ever considered that maybe it's in the same way that you don't think Sodapop believes you, even though you're being truthful?"
Man, this lady was good. I glanced at the clock and noticed that our time was up, and in that short time she had made me realize that while all of us were talking to each other at home, none of us were believing what anyone else was saying. A huge revelation, one that shifted my entire perspective on things.
"So, Scout, do you think before the next time we meet that you could talk to Darrel and Sodapop - and your other brother, if you think he's part of it, too - about what you just told me – about what you're really afraid of?"
I wasn't sure if I could.
"I'll try," I said, realizing too late that I had just agreed to a second visit.
"You ready to go back out?" she asked, taking my tissues and throwing them away for me.
I nodded, and she opened the door. Soda and Darry both looked up as we came out, and Soda grabbed me in a hug, seeing that I'd been crying, too.
"I don't blame you, Soda," I whispered in his ear. "I never did. I swear."
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A/N: Please forgive any gross misrepresentations of what goes on in a psychologist's office. I am DEFINITELY not a psychologist, and though I probably could benefit from the services of one, I have never been to one. :-) Thanks for feedback, as always.