8/14/2019 Short Story - Breakthrough

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The Breakthrough

"A friend is a present you give yourself."

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

When I think back to all the friends I’ve made and had and left, I can’t help remembering

the ones that got away. Those friends always seem to stand out strongest in my mind.

Sometimes I envision them from my bunk next to the window. Dancing on the white walls of my cell, holding hands, we were singing, “Ring around the rosy! Pocket full of posies! Ashes!

Ashes! We all fall down!” Their lancing silhouettes twitter like a Moscow ballet across the

fogged window pane and down against the square glass viewing panel on the door. It’s like I’m

there again. Strange that I feel so close to them.

It’s a sad thing, truly: to remember. These friends are especially important, Dr. Kyle says.

He says it would be a good idea for me to focus on them. “Go ahead and try to think back,”

Imagine his voice a dull drill coming out of a thick, white beard, “Think back to your childhoodand visit those friends for me. Can you do that, Brian?” I nodded. I knew if I nodded that he

would give me extra time outside, and I really liked the way the trees looked this time of year. Istood from my chair and began to pace the room.

“Charlie was my first friend,” I managed through frowning brows and squinted eyes.

“I’d heard rumors of him from my brother – you know, Eric? Yeah, well,” I swallowed, “Ericwould tell me these grand stories of their journeys through the forest behind our house. Charlie

was a regular trailblazer! What a tough guy! Eric told me how they built a bridge over the

stream together, caught fish at the lake, and hunted squirrels with their slingshots. He was thekind of kid I wanted to be my friend.”

Dr. Kyle watched me very closely. I noticed that about him, and it always got under myskin - made me feel like bugs were crawling on me. He interrupted me, “What kind of things did

you do with Charlie?” I went silent. My brows remained in their downward thrust, and I

massaged my temples. It was hot in the doctor’s office. “I didn’t do anything with him.”

“Anything?” Dr. Kyle asked.

“No. We just….never really met. You see? We didn’t have time,” I began pacing again,letting myself get distracted by the ornate jars of colored sand lining the bookshelves. We made

those in Art Time last week. Mine didn’t look right – Ferris told me between mouthfuls of the

stuff. He was crazy.

All of a sudden I felt like I had to rush. “There just wasn’t any more time. For him – for me and him, together. You see? Life moves quick. You have to be on your toes – have to keepmoving forward,” I emphasized with my flailing arms. Dr. Kyle was still, as always, very still. I

hated him.

“Did you have any other friends?” He asked. A tremor of anger made me shake. Myvoice quivered and I lashed out, “Of course, I had other friends! What do you take me for, some

kind of wall-fly?” I took a breath, calming myself, and stared off through Dr. Kyle’s windows.

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“Sure was. We did lots of things together – had this rock band, this favorite hangout. We

were a pair, him and me.” I whispered.

“Do you remember what Dan looked like?” Dr. Kyle asked.

I slowed my pacing and squinted again. My temples were still hurting, and my breath

kept coming in great gulps. “I- his hair was… Well, I can’t exactly – remember.” My eyes began watering. Dr. Kyle, a monster in calm demeanor, waited for me to continue. When I

didn’t, he spoke, “Listen to me, Brian. Do you know why you’re here?”

“What?”

“Do you know why you’re here? In this hospital?”

I stopped pacing. The trees outside the window were swaying gently to the bitter breeze.

Powdery snow swirled through the air, like a mist alive. It was like fairies dancing, plucking thewhite drifts like instruments. Yes, that was it. It was a fantasy world out there. Fantasy world.

Dr. Kyle made a strange sound. It was a gasp, and his eyes were wide, but he lookedmore amazed than afraid. “What did you say?” He asked, his voice betraying mounting

disbelief. I thought he was going to stand up and tackle me. His arms grasped his chair, and the

writing pad was about to fall off his lap.

Slowly, like the retreating current of low tide, the thought flitted away. It washed out and

 broke apart. As if the fairies – devious fairies – were making a game for me. They stole me

away. I felt giddy again, and the heavy smog of reality settled over my mind. Soon, I would beout there playing in that snow. “Did you just say ‘fantasy world’?” Dr. Kyle was still in his old

excitement – always on the edge of his seat with me.

I laughed despite my confusion. “What fantasy world?”

Dr. Kyle’s face drooped, and his body sank back into the chair. His eyes, now rimmedwith dark spongy skin slowly closed, and his head seemed to nod forward as he pressed his lips

tight together. As if his arms were stretching through molasses, through some deepness, he

 picked up his shiny pen and began to write on his pad.

It wouldn’t be much longer, now. I relished the time outside.