Brink by Mikel Parry

CH-NERVOUS TICKS

Sitting outside the all-too-familiar door, Thomas closed his eyes. It had been so long since this place had meant something to him. It used to be a wonderful retreat away from the world. He could say anything, be anything he wanted to be, inside. But now, after all that had happened, it was foreign. Just how much of himself had he lost since then? Would things ever be the same? Forgoing all other doubts, he tapped softly on the solid oak door. He watched as the tiny, office-door name plate, with an old friend’s name printed on it, shook around in its holder. He put a hand up to adjust it back to its former state. Just as he did, the door opened.

“Thomas, is that really you?”

Looking down, there was the same old face he remembered; only he’d never seen it in such shock. But despite it all, he felt glad to finally see someone he had once known so well.

“Barb—it’s good to see you.”

Barb opened the door cautiously. It was clear that she was processing a wide array of emotions.

“It’s been awhile, Thomas . . . more than awhile. I’m not sure what to say right now.”

Thomas bit his lip nervously. He wasn’t good at properly addressing his emotions. It seemed that his out-of-control brain would prevent any of the proper lines to connect. Things always seemed to come out wrong.

“Can I come in? I just need someone to talk to.”

Barb looked flustered for a moment. She had evidently not expected such a visit. But slowly her normal self began to return.

“Sure, Thomas; I’ve got a minute or two. But I do charge by the hour.”

Thomas smiled. It was a fake smile he had learned to put on. It’s what normal people did. In reality, however, he was still lost within the beehive of his own mind. The deafening buzz calling for his attention seemed to be growing by the minute.

“You look great, Barb. Glad to see time hasn’t dulled your sharp claws.”

She responded by throwing a handful of her shimmering hair behind her head as she smirked.

“Glad to see your sarcasm is still fully intact. You’ve got some explaining to do; not to mention, some outstanding bills to pay.”

“I’ve been in a rough patch, ever since . . .”

“Don’t—I understand. I was just giving you a hard time. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t. Go take your seat and let’s chat.”

Thomas walked over to the polished leather couch. How many hours had he spent there doubting, pondering, and dwelling? All of his nonsensical banter had found a place here. Maybe he could find it again. Stretching out on the couch, he felt something different. He no longer was the cocky, carefree, ace detective. Now he was far more complicated. Life had dealt him a blow that left an indelible print in his life.

“I missed the smells here, and pondering your random organization of things. I’ve missed you, Barb.”

Thomas glanced over to see her crossing her smooth, pampered legs. She quickly adjusted her short skirt before she began chewing on the end of her pen.

“I’ve missed you too, Thomas. My other clients aren’t quite as interesting as you are. They also don’t remind me of the exact amount of time it’s been since I changed perfumes.”

“I guess I need to do some talking here. A lot has happened since I was here last.”

Barb frowned.

“Thomas, you don’t need to walk me down that path. It’s too soon. Stuff like this takes time.”

Thomas felt his heart begin to ache. His mind was playing its games again. The on button had been pressed.

“It’s more than that. I’ve spent my whole life feeling like an outcast. No matter how hard I tried, how many cases I solved, I was never just normal. Jena changed that. She made me feel whole. She made me feel . . . human.”

Barb sat straight up in her chair. She had never heard such succinct speech come out of Thomas’ lips. She urged him to continue.

“I was going to kill myself, Barb. I was at the bridge and I jumped. I, I don’t know why, it just seemed right.”

“Thomas, don’t you ever associate right with killing yourself! How many times have I told you that it’s never just about you? You’d be leaving a void behind that no one could fill.”

Thomas sulked up and gazed out the window. The street was empty. He recalled the free floating balloon being dragged by the children. Such a simple thing, and yet it was so desired.

“It took me taking the plunge to realize that. Only I’m not sure if I did take the plunge. In fact, I have no idea what happened.”

Barb looked deeply perplexed. Once again she was gnawing on the end of the pen she was holding.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

Thomas looked across the room into her eyes. Immediately, his mind reflected on every shade of eyeshadow she had ever worn. But there was something else. The look in her eyes ushered in something new. He’d never seen a look like that. In some miraculous way, Barb really cared about him.

“What if I were to tell you that I’ve gotten into something deep? Something that even I still can’t piece together. And yet I feel myself drawn to it as if it’s giving me purpose again.”

Barb uncrossed her legs and leaned over. As she did, thick curls of her hair fell down around her shoulders. It was obvious that she was trying to come to her own conclusions.

“Thomas, that’s what it’s always been about—purpose—you’ve always said that’s what Jena gave you. And to be honest, that’s what she’d want you to have.”

A few stinging tears made their way into Thomas’ eyes. He quickly rubbed them away, doing his best to conceal his emotion.

“I guess I just don’t know what to believe anymore. I’ve felt so empty since she’s been gone. My life has always been about details and conclusions. But now I don’t see my life having a happy conclusion anymore. What’s the point of me? What’s my new conclusion?”

Barb jostled around in her chair a bit nervously. The question had burrowed its way into her emotional self. She was quick to respond.

“Maybe the point isn’t you. Maybe it’s never been about you. You’ve got a gift, Thomas. The rest of us can only speculate as to what it’s like to be in your head. Maybe the conclusion shouldn’t be about you at all, but about those you help. Great people rarely ever live happily ever after. But they assure that the rest of us can.”

The finely sewn tapestry, woven of both compliments and reality checks, resonated with him. Barb had never stuck her allegorical sword of investigation so deep. It had found his heart. For once, all seemed quiet, if only for a second in time. Maybe she was right. All these years he had spent worrying about himself and his curse. Perhaps it was time to change that. But Jena’s image would not leave him. He couldn’t let her go. Despite his courageous, open-hearted conversation, his memory of her remained. But he had to try.

“Barb, what’s it like? What’s it like to just be normal? I usually can’t sit for even a minute without the world funneling into my mind. It’s hell at times.”

She shook her head and grinned.

“Normal isn’t so great. Us normal people sit and babble about mundane aspects of life day-after-day. We normal people look at people like you and it gives us hope that we can be something more. To be frank with you, Thomas, being normal is boring. If I have to talk to one more supposedly repressed spouse into sticking out their marriage, I’ll go bonkers. I need a weirdo like you to level me out.”

When she was finished, Barb winked at Thomas, who blushed slightly. A display of emotion threatened to rush out in a river of awkwardness. He quickly dismissed it though, as his electric mind was humming once more.

“Barb, you’re an angel, always have been. Maybe one of these days you and I could take a yoga class together and really hammer out your nervous ticks. I’m sure the graveyard of pens and pencils would thank you.”

She looked down, realizing that she had again taken up chewing on her pen. She quickly shoved it out of sight and glared.

“I’m the psychiatrist here, not you! I don’t have any nervous ticks!”

Thomas began to respond with the precise number of times he had seen her put the pen in and out of her mouth, but decided against it. He wanted to focus on the new awareness that he felt more confident. More confident than when he had walked in the door. He now had something to work on. Even though he still felt sick to his stomach for having engaged with the mysterious organization, it did give him some purpose. If that was all he had left in his overly complicated life, then so be it. He got up swiftly and began heading towards the door. As he did he noticed the small picture of Barb’s cat had been moved slightly. This gave him pause for just a moment. He wanted to ask but refrained. Now wasn’t the time.

“He comes and he goes, a real man of mystery. I’ll have to watch myself to avoid swooning to death.”

Barb smiled at Thomas, who caught it out of the corner of his eye.

“Until next time, Barb; and this time, there will be a next time a little sooner.”