"What is this place?" my younger self asks, looking at all the shelves of books. I could tell by the way he inspects the green walls and wooden floors that he wants to know our story. Our reason for being here. He glances at the shelves of books again, no doubt trying to read all the titles to find a connection. My heart beats fast as he works over the room and I find myself watching him as intently as he watches me, praying he'll not see the ugly truth about us. That he'll make up some happy explanation and move on. So I can wake up and do the same. "This," I sigh deeply, "Is a therapists office. Not yours from the practice, of course" I plop on the long couch, my tattered PJs and robe bunching up at my sides. "So I become a therapist?" "Yes." "Wait! You said this was not my office...so why are we here then?" "Because of October 5th." Suddenly his eyes light up and he sits next to me, his excitement percolating about a million and one questions. "They came back? How? Did you go to San Lorenzo! And what about the class? Did they go too? Or was it just you and Grandpa? And what about the Sleeping Sickness? Did Mom and Dad cure it like they said they would? How about their friend, is he OK? Oh Man, I have so many questions! What is it like to have them home? Is it great? Did they go school with you to about their trips?" On and on he goes, asking more than I could ever think of in a single year...all the while a concrete knot hardening in the pit of me because I know I have to derail his gravy train of thoughts. It pains me to shut him up, but it's the only way I can get through this. "Come ON! Tell ME!" he begs, bouncing on the couch cushions, "I am DYING to know!" Dying. Heh. What an ironic choice of words. "YES! ANYTHING! What?" "Don't talk until I'm done. This is something you need to hear, and I think I'll get this out better if I know I have the time to. Ok?" He nods his head fast, almost snapping his neck in half. Man...is this gonna be hard. If I tried to off myself as an adult I can only imagine what my childhood self will do. "Well...they do come back," I start. Can I really do this? Is it right to do this? I try to start again, finding my tongue all sticky like it's been covered in peanut butter. My heart races even faster, and for a second I think about lying to him. I think about pulling some cheap crap out of my ass and letting it be. It's only a dream right? What harm could it do to lie? But then...I look at my younger self's eager eyes and I know that I can't do that. I can't lie to him. Because I already have been for far too long. "They came back a few weeks ago. We are not sure how, or where exactly they have been all this time. All we know is that they arrived at the airport and met with a customs agent. Shortly after being allowed into Hillwood again they got sick, very sick. And being that they were exposed to the Sleeping Sickness they both felt it was safer for the whole town if they got quarantined. I was told that's not normal procedure, but since they had the knowledge and degrees to back it up, no one seconded guessed their judgement." "Sadly..." I turn away from little me, little Arnold, finding it harder then hard to explain the rest. How can I do that? How can I crush his dreams so fast? It's not right! It's not fair! No one should go on with this kind of pain. So I don't. I just sit and let the whole scene wash over me as I try not do anything too drastic. "And!" he pleads, "Don't just stop there! Come on! TELL ME!" He tugs my robe, nearly tearing it off me and I know I have to continue...no matter how sad it is. "They didn't realize how sick they really were and..." I sob, "They died." Little Arnold stops tugging, completely still. "And Arnold...here is the part I'm not proud of. After hearing about their death I tried to sleep it off, believing that it could somehow change things...and when that didn't I turned to drinking. A LOT of drinking. I just...could not deal with them dead. I could not face the fact that they went off, saved San Lorenzo...only to come back to die. That was not how it was supposed to go! That is NOT how I wanted it to end! And so...I came here...to this room. A room in rehab." "Rehab?" "It's a place people go to stop their bad habits." "Oh..." I look at him again, his sinking head tearing me up more then Mom and Dad's passing, more than the look on Phoebe's face when she begged me not to jump, and more then seeing Helga cry for me. Because in that football shaped head, I saw the face of a betrayed boy. A boy who saw and hated his future. And it was then I realized I could never be him again. No matter how much I want to, I can't go back to being the youthful kid who knew everything was going to be ok. Because everything wasn't. "Did you stop?" "Huh?" "Did you stop your bad habits?" "Yes. But...and this is the tough part...my habits made life easy. When I drank I felt nothing, and when I stopped drinking I felt everything. So I...tried to make sure that...I would never feel anything ever again. By trying to jump off this building. Thankfully, Phoebe stopped me and got me to see something I never saw before. Arnold..." I take a deep breath and open my arms, ready to hug myself, "You don't have to be the town savior anymore. You don't have to run around and fix things."
"Ok, I'll tell you. But you have to promise me something, alright?"
"That's when I usually wake up. Right before I hug him-er-I mean, me."
"And what do you think this dream is trying to tell you?" Dr. Bliss asks. We are sitting in her office in the Hillwood Medical Center. I had been referred to her by Dr. N. Though, she never really told me why Bliss would be a better match. Only that it was in my best interest.
"Exactly what I figured out already. I don't have to be Jesus anymore. But if I know that, why do I keep dreaming it over and over?"
"Because it's been who you were for a very long time. You can't just chose to drop a part of your personality, Arnold. You have to work on that, daily. You of all people should know that."
"Why? Because I'm some god-sent shrink who's supposed to know it all?" Dr. Bliss sighs some, drooping her head. I look at how sad she gets and wonder if she ever made that kind of face to Helga. She must have, minus the crows feet and heavy amounts of concealer. At least, I think that's concealer.
"No, because of AA and Al-Anon. One Day At A Time Arnold, remember? You can't just expect everything to change overnight. Change takes time. You need to relax and adjust."
"But adjusting is all I seem to do."
"Welcome to humanity." I groan. Any chance on getting a refund?
"Listen," Dr. Bliss says as she puts down her pad and sits next to me, "I know this is awkward. For most of your adult life you have been the one with pad and pen, and now you're on the other side of that. It's not easy to get used to. Believe me. But that does not change the fact that you have to get used to it. And if I were you, I'd take this time to figure things out."
"Like what?"
"Like what you want to do. You seem pretty sure what you DON'T want to do. Now you can figure what you WANT to do."
I cock a brow. What I want to do? What DO I want to do? The more her words sank in the more I realized I had no clue.
"Well, I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today Arnold. Same time next week?"
"Sure...I guess." She stands up puts her hand out. I stand and shake it before giving her that same Thank-You-Smile and leaving. I have to admit, there is something to her. I can't explain what, I just feel a little better after each visit. And it's something. A start.
The sun smacks me all over when I exit and I have squint to see Helga and Little Phil in the Packard.
"Daddy!" He reaches his hands out to me, nearly busting out of his car seat.
"Please sit still Phil. You can play with your father later when get home." I get in next to my wife, trying to smile when I lightly kiss her. Buckling in, I feel her hands on my thigh.
"So...things are...good?"
"Getting there." I sigh. She smiles.
"Well, I guess thats better then nothing."
"Yea..." she rubs my thigh a little longer before grabbing my hand. I can tell she wants to say something else, but having Little Phil in the backseat stops her. I wink, trying my best to let her know that things are really ok. No need to worry anymore. At least, for now.
"Hey, are you guys getting hungry?" I ask.
"I could eat. Chinese?"
"Sure. What do you say buddy? Want some Chinese?" He claps his hands happily and smiles. "Mynese! Mynese!" We giggle as Helga starts the car and I can't help but think...I'm gonna be ok. For the first time, in a long time I'm gonna to be ok.