CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

After dinner, Dr. Ezra leads us to a fire pit, far away from the cabin, forest, people, and lights. We help him start the fire, and then he points to the five logs creating a crude circle around it. “Have a seat,” he says. “One per log.”

Everyone sits, and I welcome the orange warmth as the air begins to crisp. There are no trees to provide shelter from the wind, and I’m reminded of fall excursions when I was young.

“We’ve had quite a day,” Dr. Ezra says, “and I hope that you all feel like you can trust one another a little more. In that spirit, I would like you all to open up a bit. I would like each of you to tell one story that is emotionally revealing. It doesn’t have to be your most traumatic story, although it can be, and it doesn’t have to be overly personal. However, it must show your depth, who you are.

“I think sometimes it’s easy to see each other as the enemy, or the competitor, in situations like this, but the truth is that we’re all just people, right? And you four especially are good people. No bigots, terrorists, or violent criminals among you. You’re just regular people, and seeing a deeper side of each of you will allow you to further access that humanity.”

He looks at each of us. “What makes you feel vulnerable? What do you think you could say that would help people understand you better? What emotions do you keep yourself from feeling? I know it may be scary, but try to access those emotions and share them.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, and Jarel is the first to speak. “I’ll go.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Dr. Ezra tells him.

“The three-year anniversary of the death of my partner, Ferrah, is coming up soon. She got sick during my last semester of med school, and I wasn’t around. I was almost always studying in the library, and even when I was home, I wasn’t really present. That last semester was brutal, and all I could see was the finish line. I’d already been accepted for my internship, and I was just ready to move on to the next thing.

“That was me, all the time. Gotta get to the next thing, no matter what the next thing is. We’d been together almost four years, and I told her that we’d marry as soon as I finished my internship. We’d start a family as soon as I finished my residency. We had our whole life planned out.

“And when she got sick… I wasn’t there to see it. I was training to be a doctor, and I missed all the signs. The day after graduation, it was like a fog lifted, and I realized what was probably happening. I took her to my mentor, who was an oncologist, and he diagnosed her. I was supposed to start my internship six weeks later, but I postponed it to take care of her.

“She died three months later… and I started my internship the week after her funeral.” He clears his throat, then looks directly at me. “That’s why I’m attentive. That’s why I pick up the phone in the middle of the night and why I’ll drive over at eleven o’clock. I don’t want to miss anything ever again.”

I don’t know if I’m supposed to stay on my leg, but I can’t hear a story like that and not do something.

I walk over and sit next to him, but I know there’s no apology or sympathy I can give to comfort that level of pain. So I do what we do in the moments when simple words fail us.

I lean closer and whisper-sing, “I can see the pain behind your eyes. It's been there for quite a while. I just wanna be the one to remind you what it is to smile.”

When I pull away, the corners of his mouth move, and he nods subtly. He leans and whisper-sings, “How can you understand something that you never had? Ooh baby if you let me, I can help you out with all of that.”

I take a deep breath, and I keep my voice so low that I doubt the guys can hear me. “You can talk to me. You know that, yeah?”

“I do, baby.”

“Thanks for telling me–us–that.”

He winks at me, and I return to my log.

“Thank you, Jarel,” Dr. Ezra says. “That was very powerful. Who’d like to go next?”

“Mine actually has Jarel in it,” Angelo says.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Dr. Ezra says.

“In April of our senior year, Jarel and I had stayed late after basketball practice. He was driving us home, but we stopped at the gas station a couple of blocks from the school to get gas. He went inside to get us drinks, and I filled the tank.”

Angelo shakes his head. “It happened so fast. Three guys surrounded me, and one of them had a baseball bat. They were three of the worst bigots in school, and I don’t know if they planned to just beat me or… I was still boxing, so I ducked at the first punch and hit one of the guys, but it was three to one, and I couldn’t, ya know…

“Things go sideways, and I’m pinned against the car. The guy on the right raises his bat, but Jarel comes out of the store, fucking sprints across the parking lot, and clocks the dude from behind. The guy drops the bat, and Jarel pulls the gas nozzle from the car, points it at the guys, and they move back enough that I’m able to get in the car. Jarel gets into the driver's seat and speeds away.

“Looking back, I bet the whole thing lasted forty-five seconds, but it is etched into my memory forever.”

Dr. Ezra clearly didn’t care that I comforted Jarel; and he doesn’t seem to care when I sit next to Angelo.

I gently knock my knee against his and whisper, “Where’s a basketball when we need one?”

“I think I could use a court,” he whispers back.

“If only I were a prestidigitator, I could make one appear.”

He simpers and squeezes my shoulder.

“Thanks for telling us that, Angelo. I hope you always feel like you can tell me things.”

He squeezes my shoulder again, and I return to my log.

“If it hadn’t been for you,” Angelo says, looking at Jarel, “I would have been in the hospital for one reason or another. You saved me, man.”

Jarel nods. “You would’ve done the same for me.”

“Thank you for sharing that, Angelo,” Dr. Ezra says. “I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” He looks between Matt and me. “Who’s next?”

Matt looks at me, then turns back to Dr. Ezra. “I’ll go.”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Over the last eight years, I’ve admitted Tracey to a hospital or rehab facility 194 times. Sometimes, she’s out for months, and sometimes, she doesn’t make it twenty-four hours. Sometimes, I take her because she shows up at my parents’ house demanding Julie, and sometimes, I take her because she calls me after being assaulted in some seedy alley, and she’s decided she’s finally ready to quit.

“Three years ago, I’d taken her in at one in the morning, and it took us almost two hours to get her actually admitted. She called me that night and told me she wanted to leave, and I was just so physically and emotionally exhausted that I told her ‘no’. I assumed that she’d just give up and stay, but instead, she discharged herself, and caught a ride with this piece of shit fuckwad who promised her drugs, but she didn’t have any cash on her so…”

Matt rubs his hands together. “She showed up at my place the next afternoon, and she was almost unrecognizable. I took her to the hospital, and she had to stay there for nearly two weeks before they could even transfer her to the rehab center.

“The car wreck messed her up, and the drugs made it worse, but that night was just the nail in the coffin. She’s never really been the same, and I’ve never refused to pick her up again.”

He places his head in his hands, but when I sit next to him and put my hand on his shoulder, he straightens to look at me. Instead of saying anything, I simply point at the clear sky.

He looks up, and we stare at the stars, the possibilities, and the willingness to see the bigger picture.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and I squeeze his shoulder before walking away.

“Thank you, Matt,” Dr. Ezra says. “Thank you for sharing with us.”

Matt looks at Angelo. “She’s still at Pinnacle. Including her time at Rivercrest, she’s been clean for eleven days now. That’s a recent record. I know it’s impossible to know, but I think this time might be the real thing. I think your manipulative story might have worked.”

Angelo nods. “I hope it helps.”

“That leaves you,” Dr. Ezra says, looking at me.

The guys give me their full attention, just like they did at breakfast.

I really don’t want to do this. I can’t articulate how much I don’t want to share a shitty story from my life, especially considering the amount of time I commit to blocking them out. But, on the other hand, I can’t expect them to share things like that with me without reciprocation.

I need to find one that won’t keep me up at night but that they’ll feel is the emotional equivalent of their stories.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Dr. Ezra prompts.

I take a deep breath. “My mom getting sick really messed up my dad. He wasn’t father of the year anyway, but watching her get sick did something to his brain, and when she died, he just couldn’t cope with it.

“The night that we came home from the funeral, we were both exhausted and miserable, and I said something. I don’t even remember what I said, but he fucking lost it. It’s like he didn’t know another outlet for his grief, so he just channeled it all into beating his kid.

“I don’t remember most of it now, and I’m not sure that I ever did. At some point, he knocked me unconscious, and when I came to, he was asleep. Usually, I would’ve just iced everything, taken some ibuprofen, and gone to bed, but I knew something was different this time.

“I called Bea, and she stole her mom’s car to come pick me up. I’d packed a bag and was planning to just go to her place for a few days, but when she saw me, she took me to the hospital instead.

“One of my eyes was swollen shut, and it turned out that I had a concussion, internal bleeding, a sprained wrist, and two broken ribs.

“They kept me in the hospital for six days, and Bea’s dad–who is a big, burly dude–went to my house and picked up my clothes and sentimental items. I never went back home.”

All three guys look like they’re about to stand and walk over to me, but Dr. Ezra immediately puts up his hand. “Wait,” he says. “Just trust me on this. Wait.”

Thank goodness for Dr. Ezra.

“Thank you, Val,” he says. “I appreciate you choosing to share.” He looks at each of us. “That was a lot. It was a lot of pain and vulnerability, but now, hopefully you see each other for who you really are. You’re all people working through difficult moments and finding ways to live in the good ones. You’re all choosing love.”

He puts his hands together and leans forward. “I want you to think about the good memories you shared at breakfast this morning. Forget all that pain and negativity from those recent stories, close your eyes, and focus on that positive memory.”

I close my eyes, and I do think about Bea and me at the animal shelter, but that memory is tainted, so I try to find memories that are completely positive.

My dates and experiences with the guys are what return to my brain. The ropes course, arcade, and planetarium. The library, playground, and boxing ring.

So many amazing moments come flooding back, and I return the horror stories back to where they belong: the dark corners of my brain.

“When you feel more grounded,” Dr. Ezra interrupts, “open your eyes, and we’ll move on to the next exercise.”

I take a few deep breaths, and when I open my eyes, the guys are staring at me.

“It’s all good,” I tell them before turning to Dr. Ezra. “What’s next?”