I take a guess on which cabinet holds the coffee mugs, guess right, and take the last inch of coffee from the pot. 'Don't you have to go to work?' I say. Alice does something at a restaurant supply company; Therese has always been hazy on the details.
'I've taken a leave,' she says. She cracks an egg against the edge of the pan, does something subtle with the shells as the yolk squeezes out and plops into the pan, and folds the shell halves into each other. All with one hand.
'Why?'
She smiles tightly. 'We couldn't just abandon you after getting you home. I thought we might need some time together. During this adjustment period.'
'So when do I have to see this therapist? Whatsisname.' My executioner.
'Her. Dr. Mehldau's in Baltimore, so we'll drive there tomorrow.' This is their big plan. Dr. Subramaniam couldn't bring back Therese, so they're running to anyone who says they can. 'You know, she's had a lot of success with people in your situation. That's her book.' She nods at the table.
'So? Dr. Subramaniam is writing one too.' I pick up the book. The Road Home: Finding the Lost Children of Zen.
'What if I don't go along with this?'
She says nothing, chopping at the eggs. I'll be eighteen in months. Dr. S said that it will become a lot harder for them to hold me then. This ticking clock sounds constantly my head, and I'm sure it's loud enough for Alice and Mitch to hear it too.
'Let's just try Dr. Mehldau first.'
'First? What then?' She doesn't answer. I flash on an image of me tied down to the bed, a priest making a cross over twisting body. It's a fantasy, not a Therese memory-I tell the difference. Besides, if this had already happened Therese, it wouldn't have been a priest.
'Okay then,' I say. 'What if I just run away?'
'If you turn into a fish,' she says lightly, 'then I will turn nto a fisherman and fish for you.'
'What?' I'm laughing. I haven't heard Alice speak in anying but straightforward, earnest sentences.
Alice's smile is sad. 'You don't remember?'
'Oh, yeah.' The memory clicks. 'Runaway Bunny. Did he like that?'
Dr S's book is about me. Well, Zen O.D.-ers in general, but there are only a couple thousand of us. Z's not a hugely popular drug, in the U.S. or anywhere else. It's not a hallucinogen. It's not a euphoric or a depressant. You don't speed, mellow out, or even get high in the normal sense. It's hard to see what the attraction is. Frankly, I have trouble seeing it.
Dr. S says that most drugs aren't about making you feel better, they're about not feeling anything at all. They're about numbness, escape. And Zen is a kind of arty, designer escape hatch. Zen disables the Page, locks him in his room, so that he can't make his deliveries to the Queen. There's no update to the neural map, and the Queen stops hearing what Parliament is up to. With no orders to bark, she goes silent. It's that silence that people like Therese craved.
But the real attraction-again, for people like Therese-is the overdose. Swallow way too much Zen and the Page can't get out for weeks. When he finally gets out, he can't remember the way back to the Queen's castle. The whole process of updating the self that's been going on for years is suddenly derailed. The silent Queen can't be found.
The Page, poor guy, does the only thing he can. He goes out and delivers the proclamations to the first girl he sees.
The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen.
'Hi, Terry. I'm Dr. Mehldau.' She's a stubby woman with a pleasant round face, and short dark hair shot with gray. She offers me her hand. Her fingers are cool and thin.
'You called me Terry.'
'I was told that you prefer to go by that. Do you want me to call you something else?'
'No… I just expected you to make me say my name is 'Therese' over and over.'
She laughs and sits down in a red leather chair that looks soft but sturdy. 'I don't think that would be very helpful, do you? I can't make you do anything you don't want to do, Terry.'
'So I'm free to go.'
'Can't stop you. But I do have to report back to your parents on how we're doing.'
My parents.
She shrugs. 'It's my job. Why don't you have a seat and we can talk about why you're here.'
The chair opposite her is cloth, not leather, but it's still nicer than anything in Dr. Subramaniam's office. The entire office is nicer than Dr. S's office. Daffodil walls in white trim, big windows glowing behind white cloth shades, tropically colored paintings..
I don't sit down.
'Your job is to turn me into Mitch and Alice's daughter. I'm not going to do that. So any time we spend talking is just bullshit.'
'Terry, no one can turn you into something you're not.'
'Well then we're done here.' I walk across the room-though 'stroll' is what I'm shooting for-and pick up an African-looking wooden doll from the bookshelf. The shelves are decorated with enough books to look serious, but here are long open spaces for arty arrangements of candlesticks and Japanese fans and plaques that advertise awards and appreciations. Dr. S's bookshelves are for holding books, and books stacked on books. Dr. Mehldau's bookshelves are for selling the idea of Dr. Mehldau.
'So what are you, a psychiatrist or a psychologist or what?' I've met all kinds in the hospital. The psychiatrists MDs like Dr. S and can give you drugs. I haven't figured ut what the psychologists are good for.
'Neither,' she says. 'I'm a counselor.'
''So what's the 'doctor' for?'
'Education.' Her voice didn't change, but I get the impression that the question's annoyed her. This makes me stangely happy.
'Okay, Dr. Counselor, what are you supposed to counsel about? I'm not crazy. I know who Therese was, I know what she did, I know that she used to walk around in my body.' I put the doll back in its spot next to a glass cube that could be a paperweight. 'But I'm not her. This is my body, and I'm not going to kill myself just so Alice and Mitch can have their baby girl back.'
Terry, no one's asking you to kill yourself. Nobody can make you into who you were before.'
'Yeah? Then what are they paying you for, then?'
'Let me try to explain. Please, sit down. Please.'
I look around for a clock and finally spot one on a high shelf. I mentally set the timer to five minutes and sit opposite her, hands on my knees. 'Shoot.'
'Your parents asked me to talk to you because I've helped other people in your situation, people who've overdosed on Z.'
'Help them what? Pretend to be something they're not?'
'I help them take back what they are. Your experience of the world tells you that Therese was some other person. No one's denying that. But you're in a situation where biologically and legally, you're Therese Klass, Do you have plans for dealing with that?'
As a matter of fact I do, and it involves getting the hell out as soon as possible. 'I'll deal with it,' I say.
'What about Alice and Mitch?'
I shrug. 'What about them?'
'They're still your parents, and you're still their child. The overdose convinced you that you're a new person, but that hasn't changed who they are. They're still responsible for you, and they still care for you.'
'Not much I can do about that.'
'You're right. It's a fact of your life. You have two people who love you, and you're going to be with each other for the rest of your lives. You're going to have to figure out how to relate to each other. Zen may have burned the bridge between you and your past life, but you can build that bridge again.'
'Doc, I don't want to build that bridge. Look, Alice and Mitch seem like nice people, but if I was looking for parents, I'd pick someone else.'
