stone.” I smiled.
Guy sighed. "Listen, if you ever want to talk to someone there are counsellors around. You know that whatever you say is confidential. It’s good to talk about things with people who you’ll never have to see again in the real world. Take advantage of that."
"I don't even want to talk to you, so why would I want to talk to anyone else?" I stood up from my chair.
“We called your Dad.”
“Yeah? What did he say?”
“He said to do whatever we can to straighten you out.”
That wasn’t all that scary to me. Because Dad always said things like that.
“What do you think of that?” he asked.
“I think that’s something an old man would say. An old man with a lazy daughter. Sounds about right.”
“Would you like to know what your mom said?”
“My mum?” My stomach dropped. “She knows I’m here?”
“Yes.”
There were a lot of reasons why I hadn’t talked to Mum in while. I had talked to her in the beginning of their separation, but then slowly stopped. It was easier that way because it hurt seeing Mum. I missed Mum every day of my life, even more when I was around her. She was so happy all the time, and I had thought she was happy in her marriage. That was the thing about people—that they could pretend to be one thing, and another, and another, and you could believe all their different versions until the day they exploded. And then you didn’t know what to believe.
“Do you want to know what she said?” he asked.
“I imagine she’s angry at Dad for sending me here. I’m surprised he told her.”
“No, your Mum was the one who sent you here.”
I smiled.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because you’re funny.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“That’s right.”
“Both your parents agreed to send you here.”
“My parents don’t talk to each other.”
“They talked about putting you here.”
I shook my head. “There’s no way.”
“Your mum said she doesn’t want to see you until you’re better.”
I laughed.
“Would you listen? That shouldn’t be funny to you.”
“It is—because Mum wouldn’t say that. She always wants to see me, and she would never agree to do something like this.”
“Well, she did send you here. She doesn’t like who you’ve become—that you’re doing things you wouldn’t normally do.”
“She’s one to talk.”
“You honestly think you’ve been acting okay?”
“I know where this is going, and I just want to say that I didn’t do anything. That gun probably wasn’t even loaded. And I’m fine. Nothing happened. It just scared them.”
“It didn’t scare you?” Guy asked. That was his job. To pick and prod at me until I burst. And it was annoying that he knew how to do that—to get me to talk. To admit things that may or may not have happened.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I told him.
“I’m sorry that event happened to you, but the situation could have been—”
“Thank you. I’m aware.”
“Your mum doesn’t want you back until you’re thinking clearly again, and can see the difference between right and wrong behaviours.”
“I didn’t want anything to do with her first, so I don’t know why she is saying stuff like that—it’s kind of childish.”
“It is childish, isn’t it?” His upper lip twitched as he looked at me.
“What exactly do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything. I’m here to tell you that you’re going to be out of this place in September. That’s in a few weeks. We wipe our hands of you, and we forget about you forever—because nobody gives a shit about you. And the sooner you realize all that’s guaranteed in life is yourself, the sooner you’ll be free.”
I left the office. There was nothing else to hear after that. Because I had heard every single kind of speech possible in my life, from all kinds of people—friends, family, teachers. About joining the Navy. Going out west where all the jobs were. Going to an Asian
Guy sighed. "Listen, if you ever want to talk to someone there are counsellors around. You know that whatever you say is confidential. It’s good to talk about things with people who you’ll never have to see again in the real world. Take advantage of that."
"I don't even want to talk to you, so why would I want to talk to anyone else?" I stood up from my chair.
“We called your Dad.”
“Yeah? What did he say?”
“He said to do whatever we can to straighten you out.”
That wasn’t all that scary to me. Because Dad always said things like that.
“What do you think of that?” he asked.
“I think that’s something an old man would say. An old man with a lazy daughter. Sounds about right.”
“Would you like to know what your mom said?”
“My mum?” My stomach dropped. “She knows I’m here?”
“Yes.”
There were a lot of reasons why I hadn’t talked to Mum in while. I had talked to her in the beginning of their separation, but then slowly stopped. It was easier that way because it hurt seeing Mum. I missed Mum every day of my life, even more when I was around her. She was so happy all the time, and I had thought she was happy in her marriage. That was the thing about people—that they could pretend to be one thing, and another, and another, and you could believe all their different versions until the day they exploded. And then you didn’t know what to believe.
“Do you want to know what she said?” he asked.
“I imagine she’s angry at Dad for sending me here. I’m surprised he told her.”
“No, your Mum was the one who sent you here.”
I smiled.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because you’re funny.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“That’s right.”
“Both your parents agreed to send you here.”
“My parents don’t talk to each other.”
“They talked about putting you here.”
I shook my head. “There’s no way.”
“Your mum said she doesn’t want to see you until you’re better.”
I laughed.
“Would you listen? That shouldn’t be funny to you.”
“It is—because Mum wouldn’t say that. She always wants to see me, and she would never agree to do something like this.”
“Well, she did send you here. She doesn’t like who you’ve become—that you’re doing things you wouldn’t normally do.”
“She’s one to talk.”
“You honestly think you’ve been acting okay?”
“I know where this is going, and I just want to say that I didn’t do anything. That gun probably wasn’t even loaded. And I’m fine. Nothing happened. It just scared them.”
“It didn’t scare you?” Guy asked. That was his job. To pick and prod at me until I burst. And it was annoying that he knew how to do that—to get me to talk. To admit things that may or may not have happened.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I told him.
“I’m sorry that event happened to you, but the situation could have been—”
“Thank you. I’m aware.”
“Your mum doesn’t want you back until you’re thinking clearly again, and can see the difference between right and wrong behaviours.”
“I didn’t want anything to do with her first, so I don’t know why she is saying stuff like that—it’s kind of childish.”
“It is childish, isn’t it?” His upper lip twitched as he looked at me.
“What exactly do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything. I’m here to tell you that you’re going to be out of this place in September. That’s in a few weeks. We wipe our hands of you, and we forget about you forever—because nobody gives a shit about you. And the sooner you realize all that’s guaranteed in life is yourself, the sooner you’ll be free.”
I left the office. There was nothing else to hear after that. Because I had heard every single kind of speech possible in my life, from all kinds of people—friends, family, teachers. About joining the Navy. Going out west where all the jobs were. Going to an Asian
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