In a Room Like This Age 21

Dr. Arn took the stage and was clearly nervous. Dr. Arn had always been tightly wound which was weird considering his profession.

“Good afternoon everyone. I want to begin by stating the obvious which is the I’m not a good public speaker. Also, while we’re giving disclaimers, I think it’s probably a good idea to tell you I’m not a good writer either but with Kholaina’s help we put this together. This was my one and only 1-1 time with Catchy and I attempted to tell the story from the 3rd person.

Catchy found himself in my office on his birthday. Just before that he had been hospitalized again for trying to take his life after recreating what he drew originally during his freshman year. The Catchy that sat in my office was, from what I am told, a different version of himself.

Anyway, Kholaina provided a journal entry from that evening following his session with me and we end the story with an entry made two days prior before his release from the hospital. My job was to get Catchy on his meds so he would graduate number one, but I wanted to reach him. The reality is Catchy was out of my league, beyond my depth. I'm just grateful to be here today.

**********

February 9, 2005

Happy birthday to me,

to the one and only Catkin Key,

happy birthday to me

Off I go to therapy.

They’ll ask me the same questions and they’ll all miss the point. My kid brother always used to tell me Catchy, he’d say Catchy, not everyone rides the same rail. How much can you expect from people? I’ll just answer the questions for Kholaina. Hopefully things don’t go the way they did the last time but then again, the last time I didn’t have her. I had Immanuel. I always have Immanuel, but that’s different.

He found himself in a room. Just as he knew he would.

The room was small and had high ceilings.

He liked high ceilings.

Vaulted ceilings.

He wasn’t happy about being in this room again but compared to the rooms he saw himself in down the line this room was a good room. A great room.

He loved designs and patterns just as much as he loved puzzles, words, and ideas.

Catchy did not love rooms quite the same way. He had a knack for seeing the full potential in just about everything. So, a room with four walls and a door could be a saving grace or, to put it mildly, problematic.

It was white. The room. And the windows had curved tops and opened onto a balcony that overlooked the courtyard.

Catchy loved old windows. He loved the architecture of the 19th and early 20th centuries. Neoclassical style buildings and windows struck his fancy despite what the braindead designers of today say. Catchy loved the domed roofs, the triangular pediments, and countless other features he found pleasing to his eyes but above all else, he loved the symmetry.

After all, who wouldn’t?

Doors were a funny thing to Catchy.

Whenever he walked through one, regardless of the style, he would often forget what he was doing, where he was, and what was on his mind.

Naturally he tried to avoid doors when he could but for obvious reasons it was all but impossible. Not to mention a monumental waste of time insofar as planning and such was concerned.

Catchy stood by the beautiful window overlooking the courtyard.

Donned in torn jeans, army boots, a white T Shirt that was crisp and new, and a zip up hoodie that was light grey with a dark hood, Catchy stood like a statue gazing, waiting.

His long dark hair was wild and two thick bangs framed his piercing blue eyes and animated face while a third, smaller lock of hair fell in the middle of his forehead.

He had been in a small room just like this a few years back. After “the incident.”

“He’ll be with you in just a moment,” the receptionist said from the doorway. She had a soft yet raspy voice. The kind you find comforting, even while she’s taking your money for “services rendered.” Catchy liked her voice because it reminded him of the waitresses at iHOP at 4am. Catchy contemplated saying so but nodded instead. Raspy voice nodded also and went back to her desk. Catchy promptly resumed his observation of the courtyard.

It was strange. There are things you swear you won’t repeat but then you do and even though there are reasons-good reasons-people reach a breaking point where they’re no longer interested.

Catchy could always laugh at a situation. Even a tragic one. He never intended to hurt anyone or antagonize someone in pain. That notwithstanding Catchy would laugh in situations where if it were anyone but him, people would understandably take great offense.

And even though it felt like a lifetime ago, like the past was safely sequestered and never coming back, Catchy always knew he would end up in a room like this again. He did not consider this resignation to an outcome, and he rejected the notion that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy.

The Universe did not work like that.

Karma was bullshit.

Patterns were a different story.

Change is one of the only constants in life, Catchy had always been told. But where do these changes come from? Some are obvious and others come with an explanation, a narrative, which we accept and integrate into our reality, Catchy said to the empty room.

Catchy could be heard talking to himself from the waiting room.

Regardless, some changes occur faster than others.

Some changes occur in tighter spaces than others.

And that’s problematic in a room like this.

Catchy never worried about time. He knew it would hound him at the end and thinking about it only ruined the good parts.

You would think his indifference to time would bother people. Perhaps inconvenience people and maybe even make them angry. For most people that would be true. But for the most part people accepted this as part of the package if you knew Catchy.

And everyone on campus knew him or knew of him.

Catchy was a naturally unassuming young man. This was rarely the initial impression he gave people, but they caught on quickly.

Years down the line people of all persuasions would sit in all types of rooms lamenting about how “Catchy saw the writing on the wall,” or capitulating to admit that “I can’t believe Catchy was right.”

Catchy wasn’t prescient he just excelled at solving puzzles and saw life as little more than a puzzle to be solved. And to solve that puzzle some fundamental questions had to be answered. He wasn’t crazy in his mind and yet there can be little doubt that his bi-polar disorder coupled with his brilliant mind shaped him almost entirely.

Catchy did acknowledge to one person that his illness landed him back in the room with the big brown leather chair. It was his illness this time just as it had been three and a half years ago.

“Enjoying the view?” Catchy turned around to see a young man wearing creased khakis, a pink button up dress shirt and a pink tie. His voice was high pitched and a bit shaky. He was nervous.

Catchy stood a moment at the window and looked down into the courtyard teeming with students, all walking around the edges and he smiled while walking over and taking a seat.

“So you rock the Ralph Lorenz Polo,” Catchy said sitting in the giant brown leather chair, which seemed wildly out of place in this office, while at the same time extending his hand to Dr. Arn “I’m Catchy Key.”

“Ralph Lauren,” Dr. Arn said, forcing an awkward, uneasy smile.

“Your Ralph Lauren?” Catchy moved side to side, assessing Dr. Arn’s features.

“No, no sorry, just playing.”

“Me too, Catchy smiled.”

“Yes indeed. Umm,” Dr. Arn was shifting in his chair “well you’re certainly better at it.”

Dr. Arn realized he was still engaged in the handshake with Catchy. He realized he liked the feeling of Catchy’s hand in his and found himself recoiling a bit when he realized it.

“And I like your getup too?”

“Sorry?” Catchy asked, somewhat confused. Catchy knew he could not have just been outwitted in a simple introductory conversation. Not acceptable.

“The slightly baggy torn jeans, army boots, white T Shirt and zip up hoodie with the two cigarette burns. Very 90s.”

Catchy stood and posed with his hands in the hoodie pockets, his head titled to the side and a sly smile as if he was impersonating a model from the 90s.

“90s in full effect doctor,” Catchy smiled, sitting back down. Ready to get started.

“You know we’re not playing speed chess, right? You can relax?”

“People play speed chess or chess on speed?”

“Probably both actually. My point is take a moment to settle in.”

“I don’t play chess period. And you know my background doc c’mon now. Settle in?”

“You really don’t play chess?”

“That’s what’s really important to you?”

The good doctor laughed awkwardly, revealing his mild embarrassment.

“No. Of course not. I just figured-well I’m sort of surprised that you don’t is all. Do you play Go? Or Risk?”

“I’ll play any game,” Catchy replied with a cunning smile.

Dr. Arn was a psychiatrist. A student still but he gave himself the necessary pep talk in his head to remind himself that he could handle this patient. He was a well-trained student with nothing to fret over. And he had the chart and in that chart was all he would need to get the ball rolling.

Dr. Arn’s advisor made him take Catchy’s case because she said Catchy would make for a fantastic learning experience.

“But everyone knows who he is,” Josaih had told his advisor to which she replied “yes that’s true and still nobody knows who he is at the same time. But the real issue here is that the University wants him to graduate. More to the point, they want him to graduate number one. And to do that he needs services. And you’re in need of a real test,” she paused right then as she packed up her laptop and looked up at Josaiah, “plus there’s nobody else. Don’t get me wrong there’s interest, I just mean there’s nobody else. Do you understand?”

Josiah understood.

Catchy sank into the easy chair. He watched as Dr. Arn nervously walked over to his desk, situated to the right of the window, and gazed a moment into the courtyard. He looked at Catchy and smiled before wheeling his desk chair over to sit across from him. A small table between them had two coasters and a copy of Psychology Today on it.

“Nice chair,” Catchy said reaching into his backpack to retrieve an apple. He took a bite and continued “looks all ergonomic and whatnot. Good lumbar support. That’s good. I ought to get one too. Neither one of us is gunna stay this young and beautiful for very long. Entropy’s a slap in the face man.”

“Umm, thanks,’ Dr. Arn laughed as he held a file and a legal pad for notetaking. “For the compliment and the lesson on entropy. And now that we got those two things out of the way shall we go ahead and get started?”

This was Catchy’s favorite part: the ‘rapport building.’ Although this time would be different after the incident.

“We shall,” Catchy replied, now on the edge of his seat again. Smiling. Eating the core of the apple as Dr. Arn looked on and winced a bit. He knew it was supposedly good for you but the texture of the core and the seeds? He just couldn’t do it.

“You eat the core too huh,” Dr. Arn laughed as he readied his notepad.

“Yeah man there’s a whole immune system in that apple. Plus, I don’t waste food. Leave no trace know what I mean?”

Dr. Arn nodded.

“And its good fiber so I’ll have a nice robust bowel movement.”

“That’s,” Dr. Arn was derailed for a second by that, “that’s fantastic. Gut health is good! Now let’s talk brain health.”

“Fuck yeah lets really take this shit apart doc,” Catchy was on the edge of his seat rubbing his hands together in anticipation. He took his hoodie off as if to make a gesture that he was there to get down to business. That he was committed.

“So,” Dr. Arn began, ready to take notes during this, their first session. “Tell me about this incident.”

“That’s how we’re to begin?” Catchy asked. He expression turned from one of intrigue and excitement to disappointment.

Dr. Arn paused and stared at Catchy a moment. He looked at Catchy’s piercing blue eyes, somewhat obscured by his long, dark hair.

“Yes, actually. I feel it’s important because-“

“Because what?”

“Please don’t interrupt me Catkin.”

“Nobody calls me Catkin. They call me Catchy. Everyone. Always. It’s probably even in the notes you got from Amanda Fry.”

“Ok then Catchy its important because it was the incident that caused a break in your care the first time.”

Catchy sat back and ran his hands through his hair. Catchy’s shrewdness and even-keeled temperament, at least for someone suffering from a bout of mania, made Dr. Arn nervous. Everything about the situation was off.

By all appearances Catchy could tell Dr. Arn was anxious and doubting himself. And by all appearances it seemed like Catchy liked it. He didn’t love that he liked it. He didn’t have a need to like it.

Catchy possessed the ability to size a situation up no matter the variables-at least thus far in his short 21 years. It just was what it was. When Catchy inferred that Dr. Arn could tell that Catchy saw right through him it only compounded the young doctor’s anxiety.

Catchy figured he could walk and chew gum at the same time. He could be the patient and do it for real without compromising himself. Just by doing that Dr. Arn would get to do his job. It’s a win-win, Catchy thought, feeling a surge of excitement until he remembered: there is no such thing as an actual win-win situation.

Not in the big picture.

Not in this Universe and not with its non-negotiable rules.

But he plowed ahead anyway.

“A break in my care,” Catchy said, leaning back in his chair rubbing chin. “Am I terminally ill?”

“Well, you are bipolar and you told the receptionist when you made the appointment that you had stopped seeing your last psychiatrist and thus taking your medication after an incident-the one this last week. Which is why you’re here. But I want to talk about what happened freshman year first.”

“Well actually to be precise if we’re talking about this latest ‘incident,’” Catchy said the word incident mockingly, “I stopped taking my medications before and I knew there would be some kind of event. Besides Dr. Fry was an outstanding notetaker, surely all the juicy, salacious details surrounding the first incident are somewhere in there,” Catchy said, smiling still and examining his fingernails.

“They are but reading notes isn’t the same as talking to a human and look Catchy I know they seem separated, but over three years ago one incident led to the other in a span of under a week so…”

“Jesus doc I’m losing track how many incidents are we talking about here,” Catchy leaned forward and flipped his hair back.

“You love math surely you can count.”

“I love the philosophy of it,” Catchy stood and paced. Dr. Arn’s eyes following him. “I love how interconnected everything is and I loathe the reality that knowledge like that is kept from us.”

“To what end though?”

“I dunno,” Catchy said, staring at the Buddah on Dr. Arn’s desk. Catchy put his index finger on the Buddah’s head and held it there. Dr. Arn watched Catchy and found himself in a trance.

Catchy looked like a statue himself standing there in the evening light as it streamed through the windows with his finger on the buddah, “I dunno, control I would think. Power?”

Dr. Arn wanted to be agitated by what he would consider resistance if it were any other patient, but there was something about Catchy that made it ok. Something tough to describe.

Dr. Arn couldn’t place it. There was a growing sense of attraction that made him feel intrigued and, as a professional, confused, and anxious.

The line was still in front of me, Dr. Arn repeated in his head. It’s in front of me and in front of Catchy. It’s between us where it’s supposed to be.

Dr. Arn took a deep breath.

“I want to talk about the first incident your freshman year before we talk about the latest event.”

“Sounds like you’ve come unprepared then.”

“This isn’t a game Catchy. You’re out of control and in order to remain a student and remain on course you have to take this more seriously.”

Catchy locked eyes with Dr. Arn.

Dr. Arn felt a sense of warmth. He found himself scooting his chair closer to Catchy. Dr. Arn looked up to see that Catchy noticed this and although Dr. Arn was embarrassed, and blushed even, Catchy didn’t judge him. At least not in the traditional sense. It was ok and everything in Catchy’s body language said just that.

For a moment Dr. Arn appeared squeamish, as if he wanted to apologize and it seemed like Catchy knew it.

Memories of apologies hounded him.

People say sorry for themselves his mother had always told him.

“Oh I take this seriously just do me a favor, no matter how this shakes out please do not apologize.”

“Alright.” Dr. Arn agreed, albeit somewhat confused.

“I take this shit very seriously sir.”

“You do now?”

“Are you kidding me you know what I put into this,” Catchy stood and paced but calmly “and not just this time but that first time too. You know, the one yer like obsessed with talking about even though there’s things just like it that are happening now, right here in the here and now? But yeah, fer sure, lets definitely talk about me at 17 as a freshman first. That totally makes sense.”

“It does,” Dr. Arn said in an unwavering, uncompromising manner.

“I say it doesn’t and who’s smarter? Hmm? Who, jus tell me who, between the two of us, mono on mono, tell me who’s smarter?”

Catchy began to look a little lost if only for a moment. Dr. Arn knew that without Manny or Kholaina Catchy had a hard time staying in the lines.

Dr. Arn clicked his pen and set his pad down on the table that was between the two chairs.

“I want and need to hear it from you or we’re done. And Catchy, you’re obviously smarter but smart doesn’t always equal right and you’re so smart you’re the one who said it. So, start where I say we have to start, or we’re done.”

“Ah I see you have a prescription pad and a mountain of student loan debt, so you have to show some flex. After all you’re important.”

“Catchy that’s enough,” Dr. Arn was trying to reel him in.

“Do you tell woman at cocktail parties that you’re a doctor? That sometimes you have to get tough? Do they say ‘oh that must be so difficult,’ while you pretend it’s a burden that someone’s gotta carry? I’ll bet bottom dollar you’ve gotten yer jimmy wet countless times behind this MD thing, even if you’re using it as a head doctor.”

Catchy wasn’t trying to be malicious, it wasn’t inherent in his nature, no, all Catchy was doing was taking detours to avoid that dreaded destination: Pain.

“Catchy what’s it gunna be?”

“Ah now he’s leveling with me!” Catchy shook his finger at Dr. Arn playfully. “Or you’re a trust fund kid who has to pretend he understands what it’s like to fraternize with regular people. You have to show some dirt under those fingernails.”

“We both know there’s nothing regular about you and I don’t mean that disrespectfully and I’m compelled to ask, you know I just have to ask, do you understand?” Dr. Arn asked calmly, wanting to be annoyed. Knowing he ought to be annoyed. Instead, he found himself dreading the end of the session. He realized he resented time constraints and boundaries and lines in the sand.

Quick assessment: where is the line now? Dr. Arn started to look before Catchy spoke again.

“I shop at thrift stores dude.”

“It’s Dr. Arn, or Josiah. Not dude. And what’s that got to do with my question? I’m not talking about growing up without money or pulling yourself up by your bootstraps. Catchy,” Dr. Arn leaned forward and was no more than 12 inches from Catchy’s face,

“I’m talking about what’s outside that window.”

Catchy seemed to really take this in for a moment.

“Right on dude. Well yeah, I guess I think I understand a little more. Otherwise, why would I go to all that effort? Hmm? Jus cause I’m bi-polar and a little manic?”

Dr. Arn cleared his throat and adjusted his tie.

“You love games Catchy. Puzzles. Schemes. But from what I know you do not suffer bull shit. The games, the puzzles, they all matter as far as you’re concerned. So, forgive me for being a bit confused” Dr. Arn winced, recognizing his part in this. “And I’ll admit I’m enabling you. So, we’re done here,” Dr. Arn stood up.

Catchy sat and smiled. Dr. Arn could feel Catchy’s eyes following him. Dr. Arn stood at the window now with his back to Catchy. He couldn’t show his face just yet because he had acted emotionally. Why did he stand up? Why was he offering ultimatums? He didn’t want the dialogue to be over. Did he want to show Catchy he could somehow match him? One-up him? If so, that was a foolish notion. He might have a small win here or there if this wasn’t a psychiatric evaluation and a battle of intellect instead. But he’d never win the war. And the fact he’s even thinking these things…what does that say about him as a doctor? Could Catchy sense all this and piece it together, in essence read his mind?

The answer was yes. Like it was nothing. Most impressive was that Catchy would do that and rarely, if ever, do so intentionally. It just happened. He would much prefer to be left alone to think and figure.

“Very doctorly. I’ll be sure to leave a stellar review on yelp.com. Actually it should be called help.com,” Catchy said laughing as he stood and grabbed his backpack off the floor and pulled a hand rolled cigarette from his ear.

He stood a moment and smelled the fresh tobacco.

Dr. Arn could feel Catchy’s mood. Its like it seeps out his fucking pores, Dr. Arn thought to himself. Dr. Arn felt like he was under the influence. It wasn’t indifference, or anger. It was acceptance. If Dr. Arn was truly done with Catchy then Catchy could and would accept that without any animus. Yet Catchy knew all along Dr. Arn was not about to end the session. It took Dr. Arn a moment to conclude his patient had already known the outcome.

Dr. Arn felt antsy and full of energy all the sudden. But he continued playing his part.

“So you’re not going to do anything to save yourself?” Dr. Arn asked, still staring out the window into the courtyard with his hands in his pockets. Catchy watched Dr. Arn look down into the courtyard and mumble the word “remarkable.”

“Hard to stop a moving train. I’ll just have to contend with inertia. I’ll pay my bill on the way out.”

“Don’t bother,” Dr. Arn said gently but with an edge of assertiveness, trying to play it cool.

“Ok cool I don’t have any money on me anyway,” Catchy replied in a tone that conveyed both relief and perhaps sarcasm. Dr. Arn couldn’t tell. If it were any other patient he would say sarcasm.

Dr. Arn turned around. His youth and inexperience stood out in that moment. Catchy saw the boy in him. Dr. Arn sensed this as Catchy stood by the door looking directly at him. The moment seemed to last forever and Dr. Arn needed it to end.

I’m the doctor he thought to himself. Catkin is the patient. I don’t need his help. He needs mine.

“I’ll play your game if you play mine Catchy but only because I have a fiduciary obligation to see this through and see if we can right the ship and stabilize you.”

Catchy gave an easy smile and walked back to his comfy, albeit out of place, easy chair and let his backpack slide off and onto the floor as he sat, ready to reengage.

Ready to play.

“You’re pleased when you use big words aren’t you? It’s cool I love big words too. Seriously. It’s the most thrilling thing when you can use them correctly and make it cool at the same time.”

“Do you know what it means?”

“To care for, I think. Do you know what epistemology is?”

“That’s right. Someone with an IQ of 180 knows a lot of things. Absorbs a lot of things. And yes, I know what it is and thanks to you so does the entire student body and faculty. So, the incident over three years ago? Let’s start there Catchy. Let’s get you to the finish line and then if you wanna go rogue and be on an insane rollercoaster after graduation that’s your call. Or you can hone your skills and channel your incredible mind.”

“Here’s one for ya…is there a difference between the brain and the mind?”

“Here’s one for ya…is there a point to all your efforts if you’re dead? Hmm? If you’re fuckin dead Catchy. Dead. Is there?” Dr. Arn tried to take a hard line.

Catchy’s affect changed. He leaned forward and ran his hands through his wild hair. Catchy squinted his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he’d been under interrogation for hours and was finally ready to break and resented the detective for their skills.

“I hate these lights you know,” Catchy told Dr. Arn. “I could say so much if the lighting was orange and gentle.”

Dr. Arn shrugged.

“I was on edge. Trying to make sense of some things. For a spell there I got in and couldn’t find my way back but I did and so we’re ok. We don’t need to unpack anything. I’m a neat packer so I hate having to unpack. It makes a mess. Then I gotta pack it just right again.”

“Indulge me anyway.”

“In 26 minutes?”

“We’ll take the time we need, within reason. C’mon please. Indulge me.”

“Can I smoke in here?”

“Nope.”

Catchy lit his hand rolled cigarette and took a long drag. The paper and tobacco crackled and much to his surprise Dr. Arn remained silent, seemingly unphased by Catchy’s brazen disregard for the rules.

They sat, each with a confident posture, in the brightly lit office with a cloud of smoke hanging over them like an upside-down crescent, the smoke thick and tinted with a purple hue.

A silent standoff. Or a silent think off, if there were such a thing.

Catchy locked in on Dr. Arn and held steady until it happened.

The Holy Moment.

They had both changed course. Catchy’s shoulders slumped a bit as he exhaled with a lump in his throat. The lump was a sign Catchy was familiar with. It marked a transition.

“It’s like this,” Catchy struggled, gesturing with his hands upward, “it’s like we were building this perfectly horrifying prison brick by brick. It doesn’t have to be like that, but it is because we’re looking at the world through a straw, like as far as what we see and understand or whatever. Or maybe it’s like my dad always said, almost everyone has a reason not to press the red button. Most people have something too precious to lose.” Catchy hung his head, his hair hanging low, obscuring his eyes some as he sat back up.

“Sorry to backtrack but you said we were building the prison? Are we done? Is it too late?” Dr. Arn asked, seeking clarification.

“Yeah man…we were. I mean we still are, but the heavy lifting is done.”

“So, what are we doing now then?

There was a heavy pause.

An unsettling moment.

A moment that reveals the gravity of something.

A moment when you truly become cognizant that something is profoundly wrong, maybe even irreparably broken.

Catchy shook his head and then stood and paced, talking fast but not hyperverbal and with a cadence and a rhythm that seemed to somehow be in synch with his movements, Dr. Arn thought.

Remarkable, Dr. Arn mumbled.

“What’re we doing now? Seriously!” Catchy was incredulous even though he knew better than to be, “we’re, I’ll tell you, well we’re…,” Catchy lit another cigarette and leaned into Dr. Arn and Dr. Arn was unsettled by how comfortable he was with this. Dr. Arn was anxious because he felt that warmth return and with it a moment of understanding, connection, or something he’d never read about in his textbooks was materializing.

Even though he was staring into the blue eyes of a beautiful kid with an animated face, a personality one can find themselves loving and needing, and a truly brilliant mind, the fact remained that Catchy Key still had a sick brain. It was impossible to reconcile. Dr. Arn couldn’t help but wonder what in the world his advisor was thinking. He was completely out of his depth with such an atypical case.

Catchy blew the hair out of his eyes while five inches from Dr. Arn’s face, looking directly at him, and then leapt to his feet and walked back to his chair where he sat and assumed a relaxed posture, the kind of posture that conveyed he knew a thing or two about things the rest of the world didn’t and then he exclaimed “we’re maintaining it sir. We’re the gatekeepers. We’re policing each other to make darn sure all the work isn’t for naught. We’re unwittingly, and wittingly in some cases, finishing the job. The place we’re making is surely gunna be a new kind of hell, a really special kind with all the bells and whistles, and they got us to build it, to love it, and to fuckin maintain it. Isn’t that marvelous? I mean isn’t it just fantastically monstrous? Terrifically sad!” Catchy shook his head, smiling while stubbing his cigarette out on a coaster on the table between them.

Dr. Arn wanted to care about the cigarette and the coaster. But he did not. He could not.

Catchy stood up again and rubbed his eyes with his palms. Dr. Arn was taken aback that until this moment he had been so distracted that he didn’t even clocked the bandages on Catchy’s forearms.

Catchy even made the dressings look ‘cool’ somehow. Like it was natural. Like it made sense.

Catchy walked over to and stood by the 19th century style window as the evening light, now waning, trickled rather than streamed in.

Down in the courtyard things were still busy with students walking to this place or that, from here to there, and they were all walking along the edges instead of through it. And Catchy knew he should feel more.

“So, I drew this mural. Actually, it’s more like timeline. It’s also sort of a mathematical equation. Sort of.”

“Its quite a feat Catchy, both of them. People still talk about freshman year and now they’re comparing and contrasting the two,” Dr. Arn said with genuine admiration. He wanted to convey that he was impressed without fawning over his patient more than he already had. It was shameful.

“How many hours at a time did you work at it?” Dr. Arn asked, looking over at Catchy.

“Can you come sit back down?”

Catchy was caught off guard and there was a break in the dance they were doing. Dr. Arn knew he had derailed something.

“What a waste of a good question,” Catchy said with disappointment as he walked back to his chair and sat. “I mean there he is, sitting all straightlaced and uptight, honest to god, like for real, purely stultifying bro. I mean Jesus Christ,” Catchy said with a sharp emphasis on the T in Christ as he recollected scenes in his head from the drawing.

Catchy railed on, “the madness of the mind when it’s in a race to articulate its thoughts, analysis, and connections before they evaporate. Before you lose em. It’s frustrating because sometimes they come back but a lot of the time they don’t.”

There was a silence while Dr. Arn waited for the answer.

“I needed to get it out I know I didn’t change clothes,” Catchy said.

The words moved rapidly through the dense air. They moved so fast they seemed to slice the time.

“So you didn’t change clothes, you didn’t eat, and you relieved yourself in the restrooms around the courtyard?

“Yeah.”

“So how many hours? Or days?

Catchy looked at Dr. Arn cautiously. He could feel the ground shifting beneath him and what was worse was that Catchy knew that Dr. Arn was aware that Catchy was aware.

Dr. Arn stared back and realized he wasn’t breathing. If he shifted in his seat, or even blinked, he feared he would lose the tenuous grip he had on Catchy. He had worked much too hard to get here and if Catchy digressed Dr. Arn would feel like Sisyphus.

After an awkward pause Catchy began to roll another cigarette. He licked the paper and gently blew on the damp glue before sitting back. Ready to change gears.

“3 full days, I know that much,” Catchy said, staring off to the side as if contemplating what that meant.

“When did the two come along?”

“That’s your segue? It’s a pivotal part of the narrative. I’ve got that shit locked away in a psychic vault.”

“I’m confused?”

“Yeah you and me both my ninja you and me both,” Catchy lit his cigarette and continued.

“Look yer tip toing! Immanuel isn’t one of the two he’s my best friend. Immanuel is my partner in the journey man,” Catchy was firm but calm. “If yer anxious or minimize important details how do you expect me to trust you? Fuckin A,” Catchy took a drag from his cigarette, “I guess I’ll have to cover us both.”

“Guess you will,” Dr. Arn seemed to agree.

“Immanuel and Jillian are the two. And I don’t remember when they came along. But I know Immanuel and I can guarantee he was there the entire time. But, but the thing that gets me, I think what gets me most is that what’s most important to you isn’t even the ideas it’s the other stuff.” Catchy looked wounded.

“The ideas matter Catchy but the other stuff isn’t just stuff. If it gets in the way you’ll be dead or irrelevant. So…you remember the encounter?”

“Are you talking about Immanuel?”

“Maybe, but that’s like 108 sessions down the road with someone else. If you ever do the work. So…the encounter?”

“Oh my God yer killing me! First of all, encounter? They weren’t aliens. Next, just say threesome instead of encounter because yer working off notes there so you already know what happened. I mean that file is red hot with details am I right?”

Catchy began laughing before descending into a strange silence Dr. Arn couldn’t figure out.

“Manny and Jillian. They’re the ones who called 9-11, correct?”

“Yes. I mean I imagine it was Immanuel but yeah they called EMS,” Catchy smoked his cigarette with a blank expression. An expression so blank if one were to take a picture and look at it at a later point time, they could tell a thousand stories about what he was thinking and doing in that moment. They could project any emotion onto the blank canvas that was his expression. A rarity for Catchy Key.

“You finished having a threesome in the dorm room and what happened?”

“I love how you phrased that,” Catchy laughed, “we ‘finished’ our threesome, like it was a homework assignment. Wouldn’t that be grand if it were? Everyone would want that professor!”

Dr. Arn gave Catchy a look that begged him to just answer the questions.

“Yeah, yes, we were done and they fell asleep, like people normally do and then I got to thinking that I couldn’t remember where I left off. So, I went out to see if it was done. In the courtyard. It was early and nobody was awake, but I could already tell, I could tell it didn’t matter.”

“How could you know?”

“Because cool shit can’t save us. Because information is all that can and the places where we can get what we need to know also distort it. It’s like getting coke from a dealer you trust just enough even though the cokes been stepped on half a dozen times by the time it’s in your hand. Maybe they mean to maybe they don’t but hey it is what it is. And even when you make it trendy and cool and it gets people’s attention, like I said, we can’t be saved by cool shit. We can’t rise above our own shit. I mean we’re literally incapable of being free. Fuckin Hobbes man,” Catchy finished rolling another cigarette and lit it.

The room was so dense with smoke Dr. Arn could hardly breathe. He knew he should have said something earlier because it was too late now. It would only amount to a waste of time.

“So what did you do?”

“So I went back inside the dorm to see them still sleeping and I grabbed a razor, threw it on the ground, stepped on it, and pulled out the blades.”

“You were feeling bad?”

“Fuck yeah it was a fusion razor those shits cost like $10.”

“C’mon Catchy.”

Catchy fingered the frayed threads on one of his bandages and tried to speak twice before there were words.

“I wasn’t feeling bad. You guys just can’t seem to grab that concept, can you? I wasn’t depressed then and I’m not now. Not like depressed depressed. I was feeling in the know. I was feeling like you can show people all the details and they’ll still say you’re wrong or worse they’ll say you’re right and then do nothing,” Catchy took a long drag from his cigarette, “so yeah then I slit my wrists. It felt like a rush of warmth at first. Like when we played the choking game as kids to get high. Like when I huffed nitrous in high school. The rest I don’t recall.”

“Oh I think you recall some things Catchy but let me ask you, I mean I should say confirm, that you appreciate patterns and such?”

“Well yeah. Of course, my horse.” Catchy tiled his head and smiled.

Dr. Arn felt a tingle at Catchy’s playfulness and immediately felt he crossed a line. Of course, the line that was in front of him an hour ago was now behind him and had been for most of the session.

Catchy was never made fully aware of just how grizzly both scenes had been. He had heard stories but mostly the legacy that lasted in the minds of his peers and the faculty was his drawing and the process of creating it, and what it meant. Both times.

Catchy had been stabilized between that week and this one and discovered he had not completed what he had begun.

“Ok we’ll get back to that, tell me about your first meeting in a room like this, in this very clinic here on campus, or better yet just how it ended.”

“Yer missing the big picture man.”

“How so?”

Catchy seemed to be despairing more and more over the gulf that existed between the two of them but despite that he still made Dr. Arn feel something that Dr. Arn couldn’t seem to put on hold.

“Its just a series of rooms. We’re in rooms when we’re born, I mean mostly, and we’re in rooms to grow up. We go to classrooms, bathrooms, exam rooms, friends’ rooms and the room of that girl with no name,” Catchy trailed off smiling, “and the nature of the room one is in is the yardstick by which one can assess their,” drawing a blank as he stood at the window again looking down at the courtyard, “assess their standing, their state of affairs. And one day a room can mean something that it doesn’t the next.”

“So just out of curiosity why stop if you’re close to solving that puzzle?”

Catchy sat back down and looked through his dark bangs at Dr. Arn. His damp eyes conveyed a confused boy on top of everything else.

“Because Josiah, can I call you that? You said earlier it was an option.”

“I’d prefer not at this point.”

Catchy nodded respectfully.

“Ok because you see, Josiah, even exposing evil and shining light in dark corners and participating in the spiritual engagement has steep market competition. Everyone is in it for themselves, even when the stakes are what they are. Its incredible.”

“Huh.”

“Trust me it factors in you just don’t get it.”

“Oh, no, I get it,” Dr. Arn said shifting in his seat, “I just would’ve assumed that you could take the competition. Anyways we’re off the beat and path here. So, they released you from the hospital and you’re on medications and you come here, over three years ago, to see Dr. Amanda Fry.”

“I honestly can’t believe this detail is important next to everything else.”

“It is.”

“Ok we had a great session. At the end we stood up and I told her that her hair in that tight, severe bun thing was repressed. That it made her unapproachable and not therapisty or whatever. I told her she should let her hair down and I told her it would be ok.”

“Because you what? you read her blog?”

“Fry has a blog? Is it about hairstyles? Am I in it?”

“No, she doesn’t, well I mean she may now, but I was kidding. Forget the blog Catchy how did you know something was wrong with her?”

“I couldn’t tell you. All I know is she takes her hair down and next thing I know we’re fuckin. Believe it or not that was my first wheelbarrow. Bless her heart though she didn’t charge me for the extra time.”

Dr. Arn had decided before the session even began, in fact right after his meeting with his advisor and reading the file, that he would suspend all disbelief so he wouldn’t be caught off guard. But he was stunned. Not at the revelation. He was already aware. Rather how Catchy told the story.

“So I left and didn’t stop at the receptionists desk because I figured I paid the bill and I had my medicine.”

“When did you discover she had confessed the next morning and was terminated and lost her license?”

“Look she jumped on me.”

“When’d you find out Catchy?”

“I dunno today I guess.”

“So then three years go by on Lithium and you’re on dean’s list, you’re at the top of your graduating class, you’re in clubs, and have had a girlfriend for nearly three years. Then you decide to stop taking your meds. Why?”

“Because there was one more piece.”

“It had nothing to do with the death of your younger brother the morning you finished the first courtyard drawing?”

Catchy took a deep breath and exhaled. He was relaxed. He closed his eyes and pictured him and his brother playing in a giant pile of leaves as their father raked them one autumn day.

“No. It’s what I said. There was a missing piece.”

“Well then I suppose we'll just skip right to what brought you here this time around. That is to say let's finish talking about incident number 3 and I'll send you on your way.”

Catchy had been out of his chair for at least 2/3 of the session which had now spanned nearly 80 minutes.

Catchy paced around the room while looking out the giant 19th century style window from time to time into the courtyard below. Now he seemed anxious but anxious in a way Dr. Arn had never experienced. It was an anxious that had a style to it that only Catchy could bring.

Anxiety with pomp and circumstance.

Anxiety with a bit of swag.

“Well it didn't just come out of nowhere to be honest with you I had been talking to

Coco about it for a few weeks.”

“Coco is your girlfriend?” Doctor Arn asked.

“Yeah that's her it's actually short for Kholaina.”

“Beautiful name.”

“Yeah beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Woman…whatever. Anyway, she wasn't on board. She kept on telling me how the medicine made me my best self and how I didn't need to go crazy to be able to move people. But how can you explain to someone that they just have no clue what you can see that they can't see? So, I went off my meds and I finished it ... Again."

“Yes well I've been looking at it all day in anticipation of our meeting and of course everybody's talking about it and I think it says a lot that all of the students are walking around it not over it my question, which I know you've already discussed with the doctors at the emergency room and you will continue to discuss with your therapist and psychiatrist, is why try to do it again? Forget the missing piece I mean the entire process. The entire, destructive, crap show of a process?”

Dr. Arn was sincerely interested. Even with all his skills and training and the obvious staring right back at him he still could not wrap his mind around how this young man, this boy sitting before him, this incredibly good looking, uniquely brilliant individual who attracts everything and everybody to him like a magnet could possibly not see his worth in the world.

Dr. Arn realized he had a patient waiting. He couldn’t believe he had been so negligent.

“Catchy I have another patient,” Dr. Arn said and Catchy stood up. “But wait,” nearly pleading, “please just try and answer the question.”

Catchy stood a moment. From where Dr. Arn sat he suddenly felt so small and Catchy seemed like a giant as he put his backpack on and hung his hoodie over his shoulder.

Catchy puckered his lips and squinted as he ran his hand through his hair and then turned and looked at Dr. Arn.

“A doorknob question huh? Seems like you’re asking for you more than me. Be honest and I’ll try to do the same.”

“Sure. Ok. Its column A and column B.”

Catchy bobbed his head as if to a beat and then headed for the door before turning around and looking at Dr. Arn who, by that point, appeared as if he had been reduced to something other than a big shot doctor.

“I dunno man I guess because it’s so beautiful, the world we’re missing. Because people are missing out and refuse to see it even when you can prove it. And because despite all my rational conclusions in the courtyard there the irrational artist in me knows that people appreciate life only because there’s death. If only for like a minute before they go back to their lattes and cell phones.”

Catchy opened the door to see an attractive brunette standing at the receptionist’s desk. Probably asking why she had been waiting so long. Catchy did not know her or recognize her but she looked at him as if she had known him all her life.

“I’m really sorry,” Catchy approached her with some intentional swagger in his step. “I took up his time,” Catchy spoke softly, but comfortingly. “See you may have heard but I’m kind of a case,” Catchy was turning the charm up.

She blushed.

“Oh it, it’s totally fine I,” the girl stammered as Dr. Arn appeared in the doorway and the receptionist looked dumbfounded, “if I knew it was you I wouldn’t mind.”

Catchy chuckled and adjusted his backpack and a piece of his bandage.

“Oh my God I didn’t mean it like that oh my God. Umm I mean I love what you drew. I love it. What dorm do you live in?”

Dr. Arn interjected and tried to usher her into his office.

Catchy got close to the girl. “You’ve done nothing wrong. It was all his fault but it’s over now. You get to be you. You’re perfect. Oh, and you probably already know but this guy,” Catchy pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at Dr. Arn behind him, “this guy is A1.”

The girl’s eyes filled with tears as Catchy walked out of the waiting room.

“By the way I live in Wheeler.”

Dr. Arn and the girl went into his office and she set her things down as Dr. Arn looked out the window to see Catchy standing by the courtyard lighting a cigarette. Immanuel met him and a crowd gathered. Dr. Arn looked at the way Immanuel stood near Catchy like his gatekeeper.

“He’s just,” the girl was clearly struggling for words. “Everyone likes or loves him. And the ones that hate him hate him like a lot but it’s like different hate.”

“Different how?” Dr. Arn asked, fully cognizant of the fact it was unethical and against all the rules to talk about one patient with another.

“I guess it’s like a hate that’s a hate because they like him too. Or love him. She’ll never be the same either I mean like oh my God, you know?”

“Who?”

“Kholaina. His girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” Dr. Arn looked down and thought to himself that he would trade places with Catchy any day of the week. He wanted to be near him again. “Yeah, he’s really something.”

Catchy looked up at Dr. Arn looking down as his peers talked and tried to ask him questions.

Immanuel asked Catchy “what’s up how’d it go? You look like it messed with you man.”

“I would trade places with Dr. Arn any day of the week. Letters after his name, an office, stability, and every night a good night’s sleep,” Catchy said as he and Immanuel walked off and out of sight.

“Ok then,” Dr. Arn sat down. “How’ve you been since we last saw each other?”

February 7, 2005

They said I’ll be out in the morning. Into the free. Only it won’t resemble freedom at all because I’ll have to answer questions from countless people, starting with my girlfriend. But its Immanuel I’m nervous to see. Kholaina sometimes joked that I cared more about upsetting him than her but that’s not true, it’s just not the same.

I’m tired of answering questions it’s not hard to understand. It all leads to the same place. Unless people suddenly become decent and brave, I know where people like me are going to end up and I’ve known for a long time.

I don’t think I ever really thought people would be different. After all there is absolutely nothing insofar as evidence is concerned to suggest we’re even remotely capable of being different.

I missed my kid brother the moment he was gone. At first it was like being drunk with grief and then it was just like a mild buzz. But tonight, I miss him I miss him really bad. I blamed discreetly blamed Immanuel when it first happened. I blamed him because maybe if he hadn’t been babysitting me in the courtyard freshman year, I would’ve gotten to talk to Jhames but that’s not true.

Those dirty days were important but sometimes I think the two of us were meant to leave this world as brothers at the same time just in different places.

Then I feel like I got left here by accident.