August 12

A Chapter by Calypso

August 12

I sat in Dr. Small’s office feeling tired and worried.

She held up the picture of the tree I drew a few weeks back.

“You know Aelge I believe your drawing is the most creative one I’ve ever had.”

I shook her head. “I don’t remember it.”

“Well...” Dr. Small pulled it from a bag at her side. “You had drawn a tree and the bark looks like the keys of a piano. The branches look dead, but you wanted to turn the drawing in and I asked you if you wanted to add the roots and you did.”

I held the picture up to her face. I could tell I wasn’t made to see it, but I could see red ink around the drawing.

“From the bark I can tell that music means a lot to you.”

“It does I play the piano.”

“Hence the keys. The tree in generally looks dead. Aelge do you feel dead inside?”

I felt myself blush. “Why do you ask that?”

“Well the tree looks dead and the branches are normal length, but they too look dead. This tells me that your dreams are ‘dead’ to you.”

“I used to want to be a professional piano player, but that dream is better left for a Disney movie. One where nothing bad happens.”

Dr. Small chuckled. “Who says you can’t dream? There’s nothing against it. Now for the roots… You didn’t add them until I ask you to and that shows me that you don’t feel like you have a lot of grounding in your life. Do you follow?”

“Not really. What do you mean?”

“Do you feel like you don’t have enough support or that your past is tainted? Do you understand now?”

I quickly shot up and my nose flared. “That’s what I thought you meant I just wasn’t sure.”

Dr. Small sent me a quick, solemn glare over her glassed that told me to cool it.

“Yes,” I started feeling my ego deflate “I would agree with that statement. I have lot a sister and a mother. I believe that’s enough to mess you up.”

Dr. Small pulled her glasses off and bit down onto the tip of the earpiece. “I’ll second that.”

“I’m sorry.” I said almost apologetically.

Dr. Small stopped chewing on her earpiece long enough for her to say. “No real reason to. Therapy always ruffled a few feathers.” I thought she was through but she added “Even with the saints.”

After therapy Dr. Small gave back my drawing and told me that it was art is its truest form. I didn’t want to ask her what she really meant by that so I left the compliment (?) up to interpretation.

I have been very grateful to Belle today. She wrote me a note so I skipped school and practiced on the piano all day.

While playing I thought about how soothing music is for me. In the last six months I have been too sick too much, so playing music had to go into the back burner. I thought of David and Saul and how David had to play for Saul to relax him. I wonder if I’m am my own David and Saul mixed into one.

When dinner or lunch came around Belle would show up with coffee in Styrofoam cups and food in Styrofoam to-go trays.

Today’s lunch was spaghetti and the dinner was beef tacos. After brining the trays we didn’t speak so the only sound was fork scraping on the Styrofoam trays and Belle slurping her coffee. The awkwardness was killing me so I said the most random thing that came to mind.

“So Dr. Small says that she believes that my life isn’t established enough, or something like that.”

“Where did that come from?”

“Dr. Small had me to draw a tree.”

Belle sat down her fork, “Aww that explains that. Sometimes the draws you make can be influenced by anything. Where you thinking of another drawing when you did it?”

“Sure. I guess.”

She picked up her fork again and stabbed a noodle. “There you go.”

I chewed on my straw “How do I get you as my therapist?”

I saw a small spark in Belle’s eye. “I’m honored. But Dr. Small would have done something really bad. It’s hard to be switched of therapist. She’s not bad though.”

I stood up to though my food in the trash can “I know but I would rather it be you.”

After the meal was over Belle hung around to listen to me play. She said she would stick around longer, but she had group therapy in five minutes.

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