"I have a tale to tell
Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well
I was not ready for the fall
Too blind to see the writing on the wall"
-Madonna "Live to Tell"
I decided to go the group meeting that evening. I figured if everyone else thought it was a great idea, why the hell not? It’s not like my own decision-making skills were all that enviable. But I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.
I walked into the room, a little nervous, a smile pasted on my face. All those years of media training were finally paying off, I thought amusedly, I had managed to keep my emotions under wraps. I recognized Mimi and Jazz, and there were a few unfamiliar faces, but I stopped suddenly when my gaze rested on Tamar. I was alone; Makini had other business to attend to. I smiled faintly and squared my shoulders as though I were about to go into battle.
"Hello, Brian," the counselor said, with a friendly smile. "Why don’t you have a seat?" She indicated a few empty chairs. I nodded and headed over to one, seating myself next to a girl with jet-black hair and lips painted dark. She barely spared me a glance, before leaning back in her seat, looking incredibly bored.
"We’re glad you could join us," the counselor continued. "I’m Dr. Trent. Why don’t we all go around and introduce ourselves?" She said it in such a way that I half expected her to insist we play the name game, but she just indicated to Mimi who sat on her right.
"Um, hi, I’m Mimi," she said timidly. We waited for her to say something else, but she didn’t, just looked down at her feet.
"Um, okay, I’m Jake," the man next to her said. He had sandy blond hair and a classically sculpted face. Actually, he looked like the high school quarterback. "I’m a recovering alcoholic. That’s why I’m here and I’m not ashamed to admit it." He looked around the room defiantly, as if he were expecting us to challenge him.
"That’s good, Jake," Dr. Trent murmured. She looked at the girl next to me.
"I’m Raven," she said in a bored tone. Her eyes swept over me dismissively. She didn’t say anything else. It was my turn.
"I’m Brian," I said. "Um, I guess I’m here to sort my life out." I held my breath, waiting for someone to make some comment. But no one did, and the attention in the room turned to the next person.
"Kaori," she said, nervously, her almond shaped eyes glancing around. She was small in size, but there was something about her that hinted at strength, like she wasn’t someone you didn’t want to mess with. Then it was Tamar’s turn.
"I’m Tamar," she said, and it wasn’t as if she had spoken the words, but that they had slithered off her tongue. Again, I was reminded of some sort of wild animal. It almost made me shiver.
"And she’s a sex addict." That was Jazz. Dr. Trent turned to look at him sharply as he sat there with a smirk on his face. But Tamar just laughed.
"My secret’s out," she said, her eyes gleaming. She glanced around the room before stopping to look at me directly. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as I stared into hers. I had thought they were dark brown, but they looked black, so black her pupils got lost in the middle, giving her this eerie otherwordly look. She smiled slowly, and Dr. Trent suddenly cleared her throat. I looked away as my weird trance was broken.
"Richard, why don’t you go ahead," she said. He shrugged.
"Yo, I’m Rich, but call me that and I’ll beat your ass. I go by Jazz and I’m not supposed to be here. It’s all a big mistake." Dr. Trent sighed.
"Richard…"
"Jazz," he emphasized.
"Jazz," she started again. "What did we talk about?" He cocked his head like he was thinking really hard. Suddenly he snapped his fingers.
"Oh, I remember! It’s not all a conspiracy… The first step to recovery is admitting I have a problem." Dr. Trent nodded, and opened her mouth to speak but he went on.
"We make our own decisions, our own choices, and thus construct our own realities based on our own perceptions." He paused for a second.
"But if I don’t admit I have a problem, and I make my own reality, then I really don’t have a problem! I don’t need to be here. In fact, I’m not really here. You’re not really here." He closed his eyes.
"Richard, that’s enough," Dr. Trent said. But he didn’t respond, just leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands behind his head.
"La la la," he sang. "I’m at home, watching a hockey game, popping a few brewskies," he opened one eye, "sorry, Jake, popping a few non-alcoholic brewskies."
"Richard, that’s enough," Dr. Trent spoke again, this time more sharply. He opened his eyes, as I ducked my head, trying to hide my smile. I noticed out of the corner of my eye Raven looking at me. I winked and she looked startled at first, but the corners of her mouth titled up slightly.
"Geez, Jazz, don’t you take anything seriously," Jake asked and his self-righteous tone made me cover my mouth with my hand.
"Well, someone here thinks I’m funny," Jazz said in a mocking hurt tone. He was looking at me. "I’m sure you have something to say." I looked around to see everyone staring at me curiously.
"Um, "I fumbled, then said the first thing that came to mind. "Has anyone ever mentioned that you look Justin Timberlake from N Sync?" He studied me, the corner of his mouth raised slightly.
"Has anyone told you you look like Brian Littrell from the Backstreet Boys?" he countered. I flinched as the smile slipped from my face and I straightened in my chair. He didn’t say anything else, just continued to gaze at me, one eyebrow raised. I didn’t respond, either.
"Okay, have you had enough?" Dr. Trent asked wearily. Jazz turned to look at her.
"Yes, ma’am," he said, saluting her sharply.
"Good. I’m not going to ask you to apologize because it wouldn’t be sincere, but hopefully the rest of the group will be mature enough to overlook your childish behavior." He sat back I his chair with a pout on his face and that’s when I realized who he really reminded me of—Judd Nelson’s character in The Breakfast Club. I wondered if an insecure boy yearning for acceptance lurked beneath his tough facade. Probably not.
"Can we go on now?" Dr. Trent asked. No one answered, so she continued. "Brian, I’m not sure what you’ve been told about how we run things here, but we firmly believe in allowing our guests free reign. Usually this leads to greater successes, but unfortunately, sometimes it can backfire." She turned to look pointedly at Jazz, who just stared back innocently. I shrugged.
"There always has to be one," I offered, thinking back to my class clown days in school.
"Hey," Jazz protested, but Dr. Trent ignored him.
”Well, what we like to do in these sessions is to just open the floor to anyone who has something relevant to say. Basically to allow everyone to get their feelings out. If you have anything to share—" She stopped suddenly, her gaze distracted. She stood up and walked toward the screen door that led outside. Opening it, she beckoned to an unseen figure.
"Marco?" she called, and I looked over in surprise. "Did you want to join us?" Out of the darkening twilight, he suddenly appeared, looking at us timidly. Dr. Trent stepped aside and indicated to him to enter. He did, shyly.
"Why don’t you have a seat?" she asked. He walked into our circle, then headed to the empty chair between Kaori and me.
"Hi, Marco," I said. He smiled briefly.
"Macro, my man, how are the horses? I hope they’re okay, you leaving them alone like this… I mean, I hope nothing happens," Jazz said, a mischievous grin on his face. Marco’s eyes grew large and his glance darted toward the door. Dr. Trent, walking back to join us, opened her mouth to respond, but a voice cut her off.
"Shut the hell up, Jazz," Kaori said, her eyes blazing. Jazz looked at her in surprise, but didn’t answer.
"It’ll be fine, Marco, they’ll be okay," I murmured, placing my hand on his shoulder. I don’t know why, but I felt the need to comfort him. In a way, he reminded me of Nick when we first got started, young and innocent and extremely vulnerable. And just like we didn’t let anyone give him any crap, I wasn’t going to leave Marco unprotected. I glared at Jazz, an unspoken threat in my eyes. He held up his hands in mock surrender. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Tamar. She was staring straight at me, an unreadable expression on her face. She turned away, shrugging, when I returned her gaze. I felt like I was missing something, but I decided to let it drop.
"Marco, we’re glad you’re here. Anytime you want to join us, feel free," Dr. Trent said. "Now, let’s move on. Yesterday, we ended our session talking about the simple ways we can calm our inner turmoil and create a sense of peace. I’d like to examine that thread a little further. Does anyone have anything they’d like to build on what we discussed?" No one really spoke for a few minutes.
"We touched briefly on escape, in a non-literal sense," she continued. "The idea of retreating into your mind and imagining yourself in a faraway place, where you don’t have to deal with the day-to-day stresses of the ordinary world." I shook my head, and she turned to look at me expectantly.
"But that doesn’t work," I said. "Because when you return to reality, it’s that much more awful."
"And it only makes you want to seek that place again and again, for longer periods of time," Raven added softly. "It’s like… a drug. It’s a temporary bliss, but so much more appealing than the real world." I winced; she’d nailed it exactly.
"So the issue then is to rearrange your real world in such a way that the escape isn’t necessary?" Dr. Trent asked.
"That won’t work either," Kaori said. "You can never fully have control over the real world. You’ll always have that place in your mind that belongs only to you."
"Then it doesn’t have to be an escape," Dr. Trent mused. "Maybe only a… retreat?"
"Like this place?" I said, smiling lightly.
"Something of the sort," she replied, seriously. "You can block out the real world here, but everything you undergo is really only to prepare you to return to it as a much stronger person."
"So the idea is to not let the fantasy overpower the reality?" Kaori asked. "Maybe to create a place where you can put everything on pause, collect your thoughts, take a deep breath and then open your eyes to face the world and all its problems again, but this time as a stronger person?" Dr. Trent nodded.
"And your own problems as well." I suddenly realized how into the discussion I’d gotten. I’d only intended to attend this meeting as an observer, to decide if it was the place for me, but suddenly, the thought of getting everything off my chest was so appealing. There was a slight lull in the conversation as everyone considered what Dr. Trent had said.
"Sometimes," a voice softly spoke, "there’s a place in my mind I like to retreat to." We all turned to see Mimi, with her large tremulous eyes, share her thoughts with us. "I read about it in a magazine on an airplane once. It sounded so beautiful, like a little piece of paradise on Earth." We listened intently and she closed her eyes and continued.
"It’s a tiny island off the coast of East Africa called Zanzibar. Is it possible to have never visited a place but yet know exactly what it’s like? I imagine palm trees and coconuts, the scent of cloves and other exotic spices in the air, the light fading in breathtakingly vivid colors above a crystal green ocean, the warmth of the sun as you lay on the beach listening to the cry of the gulls overhead." She painted the clearest image, I could picture it in my mind. She opened her eyes, and there was a faraway yearning in them.
"One day," she whispered, "I want to go there, to wander the sands of Zanzibar and know the true meaning of bliss."
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