Key Knowledge is...Well...Key

Keys unlock doors. But there isn't one key to unlock every door. You need a different key for each individual lock, so the world has billions of keys and insane combinations. That's before we even begin to crack keys without locks.

My head hurts.

After the dance, Valerie wasn't done with me yet. It went a little something like this: Valerie started trailing me. Then she talked to me. Gradually, I communicated as well. This was the first day. We walked, and she talked me into paying for her ice cream. The next three days involved an insane number of conversations in which I nodded and she laughed. Now we're on day seven.

It's amazing how easy a relationship can be when at least one of the parties knows what she's doing. I, however, was clueless. Like that one movie with the pink cover.

"I'm gonna go to therapy with you, Ben."

It was after school. I'd been waiting by her locker to say hi before I headed off, like I had done both voluntarily and involuntarily for the past five days.

My eyebrows jumped at each other like refrigerator magnets. "Um…why?"

I hope I didn't sound rude.

Imagine being in my situation here. Let's say you're dating a person and run into them on your way to prison where you're going to visit your Aunt Sindey. You say hi, the person hugs you even though you don't understand the concept of a hug, and then you tell the person you've gotta go visit your delinquent aunt in the high-security prison.

Instead of bidding you a fine farewell, the person you're dating says that they want to go with you to the high-security prison to meet your aunt who eats raw meat.

Sound weird?

It's weirder for me. What person in their right or left mind would want to go to therapy voluntarily?

Valerie shrugged, "It sounds interesting. School's almost done too. Last chance I'm gonna get to see everybody before I'm off to California."

She was going to the California College of the Arts. Fashion schools right in Manhattan weren't good enough for her. Too simple, staying in the state when you've got enough money to go anywhere.

I would know.

I coughed. "But…you…you're not…"

"Like you? Well, thank you, but I think we could all do better with a little more Ben inside of us to tell us what's what. Yeah, I'm gonna go."

"But you're like…normal…" I caught a glimpse of what she was wearing. A dress, made of duct tape. Animal print duct tape. From thousands of animal patterns. "Kind of…but are you even allowed to?"

"Oh, please, Rich loves me. Besides, I think our relationship shows progress for you or whatever, so then he'll just like me even more."

I had to jog to keep up with her. "Um…we're in a relationship?"

"Yeah." The blue sparkles on her lips made a face-up lemon-slice. "It's our one-week-anniversary tomorrow."

"Gotcha."

"Oh yeah, about that, we're gonna double with my friends tomorrow. And we're going to the movies because I like the movies and there's this new one by…"

As we made our way to therapy, our conversation took the point where she talked, and I smiled and nodded. It worked.

Maybe this girl could use some therapy.

I scanned over the past week. Nightly phone-calls in which I didn't have to do any of the talking, eating at Stacks during her lunch break and paying for yet another individual on my endless bank-account, and these times when I got to sit in front of her locker right before therapy.

It had been a pretty good week for me. Who needs sleep anyway?

I paused before the door, then shook it off. This was her problem, not mine. I took my seat and she climbed in the one next to me.

"Wow. Ben, what up with your hair?"

Stuart cackled when he saw the pure perfection that had become my head. The stupid short hairs refused to be unmaintainable, so they were left just like they were at the dance. In fact, since all that jacked-up product was gone, the curl had become helpful in maintaining what Mom called "the look."

It wasn't fair.

Valerie laughed. "What up with yours?"

"Look who's talking."

She scrunched her face at him and pulled on a strand of it. The hair popped up like a little spring. Must be the pipe-cleaner she had weaved through it during math class.

My head wheeled around the room. No Julia.

Thank cheese.

When Dr. White walked in, I stiffened. Valerie gave him a smile, then he waved and turned to the rest of us like it didn't mean a thing. You know, I've come to a conclusion: All girls are Superman.

Their tiny people are Superman. My tiny person is a goof-off. That's why I fired him.

Dr. White clapped in his usual manner. I stared out the window. We were close, weeks away from freedom. Then Dr. White would either tell my parents I'd made progress or that I blew it.

My heart jet streamed when I tuned in. "Alright," Dr. White said. "I want everyone out except Ben. You guys get the day off to figure out how we're going to celebrate the end of the year."

I squirmed.

He knows.

He knows about Julia. He's going to kill me. He wants no witnesses.

No, the therapy group would never leave me like this. Not Austin. Not Valerie. They wouldn't leave me here to die at the hands of the mad psychologist.

When I looked up, the room was empty.

To quote Valerie, I need new friends.

"Am I in trouble?"

Dr. White shook his head. "I realized that I haven't been fair to you, Ben."

He paced in front of me, speaking in a manner that made me think of…not him. He pulled up a chair and put his legs on either side of it. (I still don't know why people sit in chairs backward. It's just wrong.)

He'd never been at my eye-level before. He does look a lot like his kid. Those glasses brought out the eyes more and enhanced the label on a whole new level. Like the seventy-sixth level of smart psychologist dude.

"I'm sorry I've been distant, Ben. You've put up with my program, all the bizarre things I made you do. But I never bothered to tell you about my story. For heaven's sake, I made you write yours down, but I never told you what I wrote down. My story that led to yours."

I itched my leg and leaned against the seat. "I never asked for it, I guess."

"Well, the thing is, Ben, what's an ending without a beginning?"

Huh?

His eyes darted to the ground. He pulled out a photo from his wallet. "I'd be lying to you if I said that I've always wanted to be running an afterschool therapy program. I used to be a 'real' doctor, like your oldest brother. Thing is, I had absolutely no passion for the subject, no. I just wanted the money."

Sounds relatable.

"It turns out I didn't need the passion. I was good at it. I climbed right to the top as one of the best. Eventually, one of the nurses and I settled in a small town in Idaho. I stayed a family doctor and called it enough since it brought in the paycheck."

I licked my lips, and he turned the photo to my face. There was a tiny version of Julia, a beardless version of Dr. White, a woman who looked like both of them, and…

Next to Julia was a kid in a wheelchair.

I remembered the photobooks Julia's grandma had pulled out. The kid who looked like a tiny Dr. White.

"Julia was that perfect kid that everyone wanted. I never got to see her a whole lot, but we were able to be a typical family. She loved us when we were there."

I had hit an all-time stupid. "But who's…"

"We had a second: Max. He was about five years behind her."

"But he's…"

"Paralyzed waist down, born that way. It brought a whole lot of stress. A big rift in everybody. Especially with Julia, who we kind of put on the backburner." When I looked through Dr. White's glasses, the memories flashed inside them. (I know that sounds weird, but that's what it looked like.) I was reliving all that pain he'd hidden.

It hurt.

"Max wasn't well, and we knew it. But we had a trooper like Julia. We thought he was the same. He was always making my wife and I gifts. He laughed, he played, he'd get into trouble just like any other kid. He was happy. And he and his mother… She loved that kid. Quit her job to be with him all the time."

The knot in my stomach pulled tighter. I kept my eyes on the picture. "What happened?"

"He…nothing was enough for him. My son wanted to walk. He didn't want to have to work ten times harder to do the same things as the other kids. He wanted to run. He wanted to be normal."

Let's act like I've never said that.

Dr. White's neck pulsed.

"Sir, you don't have to-"

He shook his head. "It had been a good night. He'd given Julia a gift for the first time, and she actually decided her brother was cool enough to spend some time with," he laughed, but his eyes were red. "But we tucked him in, headed to sleep…I wish I could've known what was happening in his head. I could've done something."

A gift.

The bracelet.

My breath was heavy against my lips.

"I thought he'd thrown another tantrum. Julia ran downstairs and pulled me up in a panic. I told her to calm down, that her brother was just upset. But she was relentless. I followed her up to his bedroom…"

I swallowed.

"Eight years old…he decides the world is too much for him." Dr. White gripped his seat. "My wife screamed that it had to be an accident. But Max was a smart kid. He knew what he was doing."

He glanced at me.

"Two days after the funeral, Margaret said she was going for a walk. It must've been a long one, because she… never came back." he laughed gently. "A-at first, I was petrified she'd ended it all too. Her baby was gone. But no. She left us. They both did."

How was he so melancholy about this? My mind grasped onto Julia's bracelet. Then onto myself, that day at the fountain; he couldn't know. I looked at Doctor White. "W-why…why are you telling me this?"

He wiped his eyes and shifted. "I tell everyone. What did you think my bestseller was about?"

If I'm being honest, a boatload of therapist crap.

His eyes changed, and he continued, "Julia didn't know how to react. One week, her brother and mother… gone. Months go by, she shut down. Stopped eating, stopped talking, stopped living. I had to do something, or I was going to lose her too. There was no more time to patch myself up.

"So, I packed up our stuff and we moved. I made a vow that day: I wouldn't lose my kid, and I would do everything I could to keep others from doing what Max did. We arrived in New York, and I started up my studies again. I won't go into all of that, but let's just say I found something I was passionate about and was able to finish up my major at record speed.

"Julia was better, no doubt. The change in environment was good. But I knew I needed to be involved, because I wouldn't trust her with anyone else. Long story short, I started up this therapy group, pulled together my studies, and published a book about it."

My breaths were an avalanche. He stood from his seat, but I couldn't move. The thoughts were too loud.

"I didn't mean to scare you or anything, Ben. But I know you think of this as just some silly group led by a man who is way too invested in the lives of teenagers. Maybe, at the end of the day, that's what it is. But we're making a difference here. I thought you should know that."

I nodded, my eyes glued towards the floor. Convince me Dr. White's not psychic. I dare you.

"What are you thinking about there?"

My lips sucked inside my mouth. "I think I'm going to read your book now."

The same book Julia told me not to read.

Dr. White smiled through his dark stubble. He extended his hand. "I hope to see you with us next year."

I considered him.

Then I gave his hand one firm shake.