Crazy (3 page)

CRAZY GLUE
:
What a showoff. She can never paint just a painting. It's always something huge. She's got that huge canvas hanging in the sophomore wing, too.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
It's a collage.

AUNT BEE
:
It's a mess. I have to agree with Crazy Glue; she is a bit of a showoff.

Hey, haven't any of you noticed, there aren't any windows in here? I don't think I can breathe in a room without windows. I'm starting to panic.

LAUGH TRACK
:
Uh-oh! (Nervous laughter).

"It's pretty busy in here, isn't it."

I whip around to find Shelby Majors standing in
the doorway behind me. The food on my tray slides to the right and I quickly straighten the tray, but my cling peaches dish soars. It lands upside down at Shelby's feet.

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Laughter).

I squat and, with one hand steadying my tray, try to reach the peaches to pick them up with the other. "Oh jeez! I can't believe I did that."

CRAZY GLUE
:
Good one, goob.

"Oh, sorry, my fault for sneaking up on you like that. Let me help." Shelby kneels beside me and helps me scoop up the mess. If she weren't there, I'd put it all back in the dish and eat the peaches anyway. I'm that hungry. But now I drop them in the black plastic wastebasket I find beside Dr. Gomez's metal desk.

Shelby grabs my napkin and dabs at the peach juice on the rug. She finishes with a big wipe, then wads the napkin and pitches it into the basket. "Oh well, at least it wasn't your spaghetti, right?"

SEXY LADY
:
She's being nice, but she's still a showoff, remember.

"What? Oh yeah." I check my spaghetti to make sure it's still on the plate. "Right." Focus, everybody.

We both stand up and I notice I tower over her. She has to be just barely over five feet tall, maybe five two, and I'm five eight, at least last time I measured I was, which was a while ago, back when my pants actually fit me. She has a head of thick, rusty-colored hair, and she's got on a Yankees baseball cap that just kind of
floats on top. I don't know how she's keeping it on her head. She's wearing some shapely flowery shirt thing, shorts or pants that come to her knees, and those clog-type shoes with no socks. It's January, people! It's fifteen degrees out, people!

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Laughter).

"Anyway," Shelby says, "I was just saying, it's kind of noisy in here with all the stuff—all the colored walls and the shelves with the games and books and these flags"—she points to the red, green, orange, and purple flags hanging from the ceiling—"and the pillows on the floor. Even my mural's noisy, but I like it." She flops herself down on one of the pillows, sits cross-legged, and sets her bag lunch in her lap. "Notice there aren't any windows in here? I'm sure it's intentional. Like a cocoon, or a womb, right?"

I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth when she says "womb." I check the door. I want to bolt.

CRAZY GLUE
:
I told you you should have ditched.

AUNT BEE
:
Sit down, Jason. She won't bite.

SEXY LADY
:
I don't think she's pretty. All those freckles all over her face and arms and legs. Does anybody else think she's attractive?

LAUGH TRACK
:
Yes!

SEXY LADY
:
Okay, she's got big boobs, but boobs aren't everything.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Yes, they are.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
I have to agree with C.G. on that one.

"So sit down. The others will be along in a minute."

Shelby pats the floor. "Dr. Gomez is usually a little late 'cause she's driving over from one of the other schools she works at."

"Oh yeah? Well, okay," I say. I sit down on a large red pillow across from her, set my tray on the floor so it covers up the peach juice stain, and since I don't know what else to do, I twirl some spaghetti on my fork and take a bite. Then I notice Shelby unwrapping a roast beef sandwich. She pulls it out and mashes it between her hands.

CRAZY GLUE
:
I know what you're thinking. Go ahead, say it.

AUNT BEE
:
Shh. Don't say a word.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Say it, goob!

"So, uh—what are you doing there to that sandwich, cause like the cow's already dead."

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Laughter).

Shelby laughs, too, only her laugh doesn't reach her eyes. Her eyes look tired, sad. "What, this?" She holds out her sandwich with the bread now pounded flat. "I like to flatten the bread so I get more of the roast-beef flavor and less bread flavor."

"Why don't you just take the meat out of the bread and eat it plain, then?"

"Oh, I like the bread, just not too much." She takes a bite and smiles.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Okay, now we know why
she's
in therapy.

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Laughter).

CRAZY GLUE
:
She's even weirder than you are. That's what this group
therapy is, a group for weirdos. You'll get labeled a weirdo and then what will happen to you? More swirlies?
Shh!

We sit across from each other saying nothing for about a minute, eating our lunches, and I keep catching myself staring at her—uh—legs.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Right, her legs.

SEXY LADY
:
She's not that hot.

Shelby opens her mouth to speak, and since I figure it's probably something like "Knock it off, you perv," I stare down at my food and press my tongue against the roof of my mouth. Then the door opens and two guys walk in. They're laughing, and behind them I see Dr. Gomez.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
Notice they all have sack lunches.

They say hi to Shelby and me, really casual-like, as if I've been in this group all along.

I move my tray up off the floor, uncovering the peach juice stain, and set it in my lap before one of the guys steps on it.

AUNT BEE
:
I know you're embarrassed about the tray of food, but remember, you need this meal. It's the most food you get to eat all day.

LAUGH TRACK
:
Isn't that a shame?

Dr. Gomez folds herself into a giant beanbag, spreads out a napkin on her lap, and sets a sandwich, pear, and carrot sticks on it. She flips her long thick braid behind her. Then she takes a bite of one of the carrot
sticks and nods at me. "Does everyone here know Jason Papadopoulos?"

Dr. Gomez smiles and I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth. I glance at the three of them staring at me and give a quick nod. There's Shelby, of course, and then there's Haze Horton, a junior. He's this lanky guy who always looks like he slept in his clothes all week and just woke up. He's got smudgy eye makeup with three white teardrops outlined in black that run from his left eye down his cheek. He also has a scraggly black beard and a voice that's about two octaves lower than mine. He's in my phys ed class because it was the only time he could fit the class into his schedule, so I know he can't play ball to save his life.

CRAZY GLUE
:
He runs like a dork.

Finally, there's Pete Funkel, also a junior. I feel a bit better seeing that he's in this therapy thing, too. Pete's an activist for animal rights and peace and stuff. He speaks up for what he believes. I really admire him for that. He's got a shaved head, which has something to do with his being a Zen Buddhist, but I don't know what.

The three of them nod at me and Haze says, "Sure, we know Pope-a-Dope. How ya doin', man?"

"All right," I say, then press my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

AUNT BEE
:
Pope-a-Dope. The phys ed teacher calls you that, or the Popester. I wish he wouldn't. Now everyone's calling you that.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
He's just trying to make him feel included—one of the guys.

AUNT BEE
:
Well, I wish he wouldn't try so hard.

Pete puts his hands together like he's about to pray, bows his head toward me, and says, "Welcome."

I mumble, "Thanks."

CRAZY GLUE
:
Get out now! That Zen stuff is too weird.

Dr. Gomez smiles this big smile so that her eyes squint up really small and friendly. She's got big dangling earrings on and this rainbow-colored skirt. She's just like her office, kaleidoscopic.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
Great word—kaleidoscopic.

"Jason," she says, turning her smile on me, "we always start these sessions by telling the group something that we're grateful for."

CRAZY GLUE
:
Gulp!

"Okay—uh-huh." I smile.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Nice fake smile, there, goob. Are they going to force you to talk? Or will they just sit and wait for you until you say something?

Shelby wrinkles up her nose. "It's one of Pete's Buddhist ideas. You'll get used to it."

"And it's a good one," Dr. Gomez says, glancing at Pete. "It reminds us there's always something we can be grateful for, no matter what our situation." She turns to Haze. "Haze, why don't you start and we'll go around the room counterclockwise."

I look from Haze to Pete.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
That's right, Pope-a-Dope. You're third. What are you going to say?

CRAZY GLUE
:
Make something up. Lie!

I glance at the exit across the room. I want out. The bird in my chest is crashing up against its cage. I can feel the heavy
thump, thump, thump
of its feverish body inside, and I open my mouth, not to speak, but to let the bird out so I can breathe.

Haze says, "Yeah, okay, I'm grateful for..." He pauses and looks up at the ceiling, his big Adams apple poking out of his neck from beneath his beard. "Yeah, all right, I'm ready." He looks at us. "I'm sooo grateful that Mr. Moon didn't ask us to turn in our homework today, because I didn't do it." He glances at Dr. Gomez. "Our house was a complete madhouse yesterday; I mean berserko."

Pete says, "I'm grateful that my dad spent last night safe in a shelter." He bows his head at me, indicating it's my turn.

"Who, me?"

CRAZY GLUE
:
Way to buy some more time, jacko.

AUNT BEE
:
Tell them how grateful you are to have that tray of food you're gripping so hard, and that you're happy to be in this nice warm room, and you're grateful you didn't have rain dripping through the cracks in your ceiling last night, and that your dear father is still safely at home, we hope.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Do not listen to her. Lie!

"I'm—uh—I—I pass," I finally say.

Shelby slams down the last bit of her sandwich and yells at me. "What? No way, Pope-a-Dope. You can't come in here and listen in on our lives and just sit there. We're not a peepshow, you know. No passes! No passes!"

While she's saying this, Dr. Gomez is trying to shush her, and Shelby turns her fiery gaze on her. "What? It's no fair. He can't just come here and spy on us."

"Hey man, lighten up. He's not spying. He's just nervous and wants to check us out some more. Right, Dr. G?" Haze nods at her.

Before Dr. Gomez can speak, Shelby jumps back in. "If he can't even come up with something to be grateful for, I mean, give me a break. It's not like he's telling us how many times a day he jerks off."

"All right!" Dr. Gomez raises both her hands. She looks at me with this smile that I think is supposed to be friendly, but I can tell she's irked.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Irked? She's pissed.

SEXY LADY
:
Does anyone think this Gomez lady's hot?

LAUGH TRACK
:
Yes!

SEXY LADY
:
But I'm hotter, right?

LAUGH TRACK
:
Yes!

SEXY LADY
:
Okay, then.

"Jason, you don't have to speak if you don't want to."

Shelby huffs and leans against the wall, crossing her arms.

Dr. Gomez, both hands still in the air, directs one at Shelby, using her hand as a stop sign. "You don't
have to speak, but please know you're safe in here. Despite Shelby's outburst, we're all pulling for one another in this group. Now"—she lowers her arms and settles her hands back in her lap—"I'm sure you have many things to say that would be helpful to the rest of the group."

CRAZY GLUE
:
I'm sure he doesn't.

I nod. "Yeah, okay." I think of my dad and the can of soup I left on the counter for his lunch. I hope he's eating it. "I'm—uh, I'm grateful for soup."

Pete and Haze laugh, but Shelby makes this teeth-sucking noise and lets out another big sigh.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Soup! Way to go, bozo.

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Laughter).

"Care to elaborate on that?" Dr. Gomez smiles at me, and this time it's her friendly, squinty-eyed smile.

CRAZY GLUE
:
No.

"Um, it's nourishing?"

Haze and Pete chuckle again, and Shelby shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

Dr. Gomez tilts her head as though trying to figure out whether I'm really this stupid.

LAUGH TRACK
:
Yes!

Then Gomez nods slowly as if she's understanding something very deep and, after another couple of seconds, changes direction. "Shelby, it's your turn."

Shelby raises her arms, then lets them flop in her lap. "Well, crap. I was going to say I'm grateful that Jason has joined our group, but now I don't know what to say."

"Well, I'm grateful," Pete says, and then Haze nods.

"Me too. Glad you're here, dude."

"Shelby," Dr. Gomez says, "why don't you tell Jason why you particularly wanted him to join us."

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Everyone's mouth hangs open in disbelief).