The Field

More Scars

Will was vaguely aware of Dr. Hal sitting across from him. The window behind the doctor attracted most of his attention. It was open again, the curtains rippling, then sucking back against the frame like plastic-wrap. He had counted this pattern twenty-five times so far.

"I'm sorry to hear about your dog, Will," Dr. Hal said. "I know he meant a lot to you."

Twenty-six.

Dr. Hal leaned to his right, blocking most of the window from his view. "He was around when you were a baby, correct?"

"My parents got him before I was born."

"I see. That is a long time."

"This has been the first time I've ever known what it's like not to have him around. I've never had a day without Charlie. He has always just been there. I kind of feel bad now that I didn't pay more attention to him. My dad always said I should have."

"Don't be hard on yourself, Will. Charlie knew how much you cared about him. We can never know when something like this is going to happen. A loved one is here one day, then gone the next. We don't get any second chances, but that's the idea. You take this experience and learn from it. Apply it to your life in the future. If we could always fix things, we would never truly learn anything."

"Yeah," Will said.

"That's it?"

Will felt tears forming. "I guess you're right. But I still miss him."

Dr. Hal returned to his typical seated position: legs crossed like a girl and his notepad balanced on top of his pointy knee. "I want to ask you something, Will. Something that may be a little difficult or uncomfortable to answer. So if you don't—"

"You want to ask me about my mom. You think because Charlie died, it makes me think of her. I know why my dad made me come talk to you all these times. He thinks something is wrong with me because ..."

Dr. Hal sat back and swallowed. "There is nothing wrong with you, Will. You're not here because your dad believes that. He—"

"When Charlie died, I wanted to cry. Really bad. But I didn't. I saw my dad watching me like he wanted me to cry, but I thought he would be angry if I did."

A knock at the door cut off Dr. Hal before he could respond. "Sorry, Will. Just a moment." He addressed the door. "Yes?"

Will's dad poked his head inside. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to make a quick trip home. I'll be back before the session is up, though. I just wanted to let you know."

Dr. Hal nodded and waved dismissively.

Will noticed his tears were gone again, so he decided to change the subject to keep it that way. "You didn't think I forgot about your scars, did you?"

Dr. Hal smiled, but, behind the subtle sheen on his glasses, his eyes were empty.

***

Eddie traced the flaking numbers on the curb with his finger. The eight almost looked like a three, and that wouldn't do the pizza delivery guy any good. They needed their address painted again, that was for sure. He'd seen an old man stalking the neighborhoods, offering to do it for a dollar. Not a bad idea. It was probably easy, anyway. Just two spray paint cans and some stencils. He smacked his lips, already tasting the treats he would buy with the money.

An engine roared and tires screeched. Eddie knew that sound. As the car approached, he saw only one shadowy head through the windshield. Eddie walked in the other direction. He didn't want Mr. Foster to accuse him of picking the paint off the address on their curb.