Highly Illogical Behavior

by John Corey Whaley

  “What’s to talk out?” she asked. “Some people just grow apart.”

  “Oh my God, really?”

  “Lisa, I’ve barely seen you for a month. Do not treat me like I’m being irrational.”

  “Sorry. Just come to lunch with me. Can you take a break?”

  She grabbed her keys off the counter by the register. “I’ve only got fifteen minutes.”

  They sat in the fairly crowded food court and shared some fries and a milk shake. Lisa couldn’t get much out of Janis, but she tried her best. They’d been fighting on and off about stupid things since the fifth grade but she seemed really upset about this one, and Lisa knew she’d have to come clean about Solomon to be forgiven.

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Maybe,” she whispered, leaning forward over the table.

  “I’ve been working on a project. For college.”

  “What kind of project? Your cousin? Did you talk to him?”

  “No. Do you remember the fountain kid?”

  “Of course.”

  “I found him. He hasn’t left the house in three years. I’ve been hanging out with him for weeks. He’s going to get me that scholarship, Janis.”

  “Are you being serious right now?” she was still whispering, but it was getting louder with every word. “You found him? Are you insane?”

  “No,” Lisa said calmly. “I’m going to save his life.”

  Janis leaned back in her seat and shook her head for a few seconds with her eyes fixed on Lisa.

  “Anyway, I’m really sorry I’ve been so flaky lately. But, I’ve made a lot of progress with Solomon. I think I could really be on to something here. With the right combination of game therapy and long-term social exposure, I could have him ready to face the world again by this fall.”

  “Lisa . . . you’re pretending to be this boy’s friend so you can write about it and get a scholarship.”

  “I’d hardly call him a boy. He’s just a year younger than we are.”

  “Do you not understand why this is wrong? Because you’re the smartest person I know and if you can’t see this then I need to reevaluate a lot of things in my life.”

  “I get it,” Lisa said. “But just like I told Clark—it’s a means to an end. It’s effective. If something works, if it cures him, then why does it matter how it works. He will never know and he’ll be better. At this point, finding out is the only thing that could hurt him.”

  “And I guess you made it that way on purpose?”

  “God, you act like I’m a con artist. I want to help him. I’ve wanted to for a long time. You remember. Now I get to help him and go somewhere to learn how to help more people. What’s wrong with that, Janis?”

  “Let me meet him.”

  “No way,” Lisa said.

  “Why not?”

  “He’s not ready. He’s still getting used to me. And he just met Clark. I can’t overwhelm him.”

  “He’s hanging out with Clark, too? Geez, Lisa, what kind of therapy is this?”

  “Like I said. It’s experimental. He just needs to learn that he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of out here.”

  “Maybe he should be afraid. Did you consider that?”

  “No,” Lisa said, staring at her blankly.

  “So I’m supposed to just forgive you for completely vanishing on me because it was all to help some crazy kid?”

  “He isn’t crazy,” she snapped. “He just has a bad relationship with the world.”

  “He hasn’t left his house in three years. That sounds crazy to me.”

  “He has acute agoraphobia brought on by severe panic disorder. When he leaves his house, his panic gets worse. Any one of us would do whatever we could to feel safe, just like he’s doing. It’s survival. But, that’s no way to live and no matter what he says, I know he’ll be happy out here. And we deserve him.”

  “Fine. Whatever. I forgive you, okay? But I don’t approve.”

  “You don’t have to. Just don’t tell anyone. It could ruin everything.”

  “Fine. But I need a favor.”

  “Shit,” Lisa said. “Don’t say it.”

  “Camp Elizabeth. They need one more junior counselor and I know you had fun last summer no matter how much you try to pretend you didn’t.”

  “Oh God. I can’t, Janis. I purposefully kept my whole summer free to try and help Solomon and I . . .”

  “Lisa,” she said, crossing her arms. “You owe me. Come with me to camp and I’ll forget you abandoned me like a dog.”

  “Okay . . . chill out a little.”

  “A dog, Lisa. A diseased dog. Left to fend for myself in the wilds of Upland High School. It’s only two weeks. Starts June fifteenth. Say yes.”

  “Fine. I’ll make it work. But I’m not teaching canoe.”

  “They need you to help teach canoe.”

  “Damn it.”

  • • •

  Later that day, after Lisa had finished all her homework, she called Clark to see if she could come over. She figured a whole weekend hanging out with a stranger had earned him a little one-on-one time. Plus, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d even made out.

  “We should go see Sol,” he said.

  “Again?”

  “Yeah, why not? I’m pretty sure he’s not busy.”

  “I’m totally down,” she said. “Unless you’d rather . . . umm . . . do something else, if you know what I’m saying?”

  “Nah, I think we should see Sol. Maybe later?”

  A little thrown off, but happy to continue with Solomon’s treatment, Lisa called to see if he was game for visitors and, judging from his tone, he’d probably been waiting by the phone all day. She couldn’t imagine what it had been like for him—to go so long without anyone but his parents or his grandma to talk to. And even though she felt like she’d made a lot of progress over the last month, it seemed like Clark had brought out something new in him . . . something less self-conscious and more confident. Maybe he was trying to impress him. Or, maybe Solomon just thought he and Clark lived in the same world, with the rest of us drifting in and out and never really understanding things like the intricacies of Klingon-Human relations or what the hell a khaleesi is.

  When they got to Solomon’s house, the Angels game was on and the whole family was watching it in the living room. They all watched the last three innings together and Solomon’s mom would occasionally shout at the TV, which made Clark laugh every single time.

  “She’s very passionate about sports,” Solomon said.

  “And Sol’s very passionate about making fun of his mom,” Valerie added. “We almost had another kid in the hopes that we’d get a sports fan.”

  “You can adopt me,” Clark said. “My mom hates sports and my dad didn’t even teach me to throw a football.”

  “That’s . . . well, that’s just sad, son,” Solomon’s dad said, looking at Clark and shaking his head.

  “Don’t fall for that,” Lisa said. “He’s got like twenty older brothers. But they all moved away.”

  “It’s really three, but it may as well be twenty,” Clark added.

  “Holy crap,” Solomon said. “That’s a lot of dudes.”

  “Are they all in college?” Solomon’s mom asked.

  “Two of them are,” Clark answered. “And one’s a tattoo artist in Hollywood.”

  “I always wanted a tattoo,” Solomon said.

  “Oh yeah? What would you get?” Lisa asked.

  “The starship Enterprise.”

  “Yes,” Clark said. “I bet my brother could come to you.”

  “Nope,” Solomon’s dad said. “Not till you’re eighteen.”

  “What’s it matter?” Solomon asked.

  Jason just looked at him and, without a word of protest, Solomon dropped
it and moved on. Lisa was simultaneously appalled and in awe of his restraint. Or maybe some families just don’t fight. She’d probably never know, but she couldn’t imagine these people ever raising their voices over anything more than a foul ball.

  • • •

  That Sunday night was the first of many nights like it. Lisa and Clark quickly became fixtures in the Reed home, showing up after school and staying for hours, sometimes into the early morning, even on school nights. With each new visit, Clark and Solomon would discover some shared interest—whether it was a B-movie Lisa had never heard of or some fan site she wouldn’t be caught dead on. There always seemed to be something bringing the two of them closer together, and even though she wished it could just be her and Clark sometimes, she knew the sacrifice was worth it.

  Plus, all that time as the third wheel had allowed her to very closely observe Solomon, probably much closer than she could have without Clark. She became a master at reading his mood, and she was always ready to step in and help in case the anxiety kicked in. His tells were subtle, but by that point, she knew them well. If something or someone was too loud or noisy, his left eye would twitch a little. This would also happen if he felt particularly unnerved or worked up about something he’d said or done. It was like he was reacting to actual physical pain sometimes. But most of the time, that’s all it was—just a little twitch in one eye and then it was over.

  She only worried when he left the room. No one needed to use the bathroom that often, and Lisa was betting, every time, that this was his way of catching his breath or grounding himself enough to avoid letting the anxiety take over. It would’ve been easy to forget sometimes that he was like that. Clark seemed to put it out of his mind completely. Which was good, Lisa thought. He treated Solomon just the way she’d hoped—like he was normal. And maybe that was part of getting him better. Maybe if someone like Clark could ignore Solomon’s problems, then other people out there could, too.

  But then, of course, Solomon had a full-blown meltdown in front of Clark. It was as surprising as it was quick. The three of them were sitting around the computer when he suddenly put his head down on the desk and started tapping his fingers quickly on the keyboard. Clark looked over at Lisa and shrugged, backing away and eyeing her like she should know what the hell they were supposed to do. She did. This would only be her second time witnessing one, but she sprung into action without hesitation. She took a deep breath, bent down so her face was right next to Solomon’s, and she started to talk in the calmest tone possible.

  “Sol, can you take some deep breaths with me?”

  “Yes,” he said. It sounded like he was crying, but she wasn’t sure.

  “Okay. I’m going to count to ten. Inhale slowly till five then exhale slowly.”

  So she counted and he breathed. Then she counted again. And Clark, not knowing what to say or do, took his phone out and stared at it, pretending that something was on the screen.

  “Can you guys give me a minute?” Solomon asked, sitting back up but with his eyes closed.

  She stood up and grabbed Clark’s hand, leading him out into the hallway. With the door shut behind her, she put her arms around Clark’s torso and squeezed tightly.

  “Is he okay?” he whispered.

  “I think so. Embarrassed, maybe.”

  “What should I say?”

  “Just pretend it didn’t happen unless he brings it up.”

  When Solomon opened the door, he looked a little better. Lisa could tell he’d wiped away a few tears, but he didn’t look especially sad or ashamed or anything. Maybe a bit tired, but with as little sunlight as he got, he always kind of looked that way. He told them to come back in and then sat down at his desk again.

  “Sorry,” he said in a defeated tone.

  “For what?” Clark asked.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “It actually helps me to not ignore it. It’s weird.”

  “Are you okay?” Lisa asked.

  “I’m fine. It was a fast one.”

  “How often does it happen?” Clark asked.

  “Depends. That was the first one in a couple weeks.”

  “Damn,” Clark said.

  “It’s okay, though,” Solomon added. “I can handle that. Before, it was every day. Every day. At school. On the bus. In fountains from time to time.”

  “I never asked you,” Lisa said. “Why the fountain?”

  “It’s the water,” he said. “Calms me down.”

  “Is that why you want a pool?” Clark asked.

  “That’s some of it, I guess. I also just miss it. I miss going out there.”

  “I would too,” Clark said. “So, you’ve got two good reasons to make it work.”

  “What if I can’t, though?” he asked. “What if they go to all this trouble and have their hopes built up, and I can’t take one step out there?”

  “They’ll be disappointed,” Lisa said. “But they’ll understand. Do you think they’re betting on this being a sure thing?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Then wait and see what happens before you accept defeat,” Clark said. “Either way, you’ll be okay. And, when the time comes, if you need us to help you, we will.”

  “You just want to swim in my pool,” Solomon said with a big smile.

  “You bet I do, whether you’re out there or not, buddy,” Clark said. “I was thinking of volunteering to be the pool boy. Build myself a little shack in the backyard maybe.”

  “Sol, if you don’t want Clark in your house anymore, just say the word.”

  “He can stay. Look, until I can’t go out there, let’s just hold out hope, okay?”

  “There you go,” Clark said, leaning forward to give him a high five. “Just wait, man. We’re gonna have sunburns all summer.”

  “Not me,” Lisa said. “Melanoma is real and you’re never too young to be vulnerable.”

  “She’s chief of the sunscreen police, by the way.”

  “I didn’t choose to be this person,” Lisa defended. “It chose me.”

  “Good,” Solomon added, standing up. “I knew the second I met you that you’d save my life someday.”

  SEVENTEEN

  SOLOMON REED

  Summer didn’t mean much to Solomon. He still did the same amount of schoolwork, a plan he’d discovered would save him an entire year of high school. If he worked all through each summer, he’d have the credits to get his diploma just after he turned seventeen. But, since meeting Clark and Lisa, he’d started slacking off a bit. It was an easy thing, being distracted by the two of them. And they made it easier by showing up nearly every day.

  It wasn’t always both of them, either. Lisa, being in Student Council and on the yearbook staff, was suddenly swamped at the end of the school year. So Clark started coming over without her. At first, Lisa made a big deal out of it—calling Solomon one afternoon, using that calm voice of hers, and explaining how busy she’d be over the following weeks. Eventually, Solomon just had to cut her off.

  “Of course Clark can come over without you.”

  “I know, but I had to make sure. What if you secretly hate him and you’ve just been hanging out with him for me or something?”

  “Is that the impression you get?”

  “Yesterday, you guys spent two hours writing a theme song for a board game. I think you’re probably the best friend he’s ever had.”

  “It’s a great song.”

  It seemed a little strange at first, but things weren’t too different with Lisa gone. Solomon noticed, though, that every time she did have a chance to come over, she seemed distracted, always sitting quietly and watching as he and Clark talked about all the things she thought were stupid. Sometimes Solomon wondered if she was filming a Teenage Boys in their Natural Habitats documentary in her head.

  It was good that they’d gott
en used to her absence, because as soon as school was out for summer, Lisa had to go to Camp Elizabeth. It sounded like Solomon’s own personal hell, complete with knot-tying classes and wilderness survival training. And the few times Lisa talked about it, she hadn’t seemed all that thrilled either. Apparently she’d been guilted into it by her friend Janis, who Solomon was forbidden to meet.

  “She’ll try to pour holy water on you.”

  “Never mind.”

  Clark worked summers as a lifeguard at the Upland Community Center Pool. He hated it because his shift was from six a.m. to eleven a.m., five days a week. Sometimes, when he’d come over to Solomon’s after work, he’d fall asleep on the couch. There were even a few afternoons when he’d be right in the middle of a sentence and doze off completely. So, Solomon would just read a book or watch TV until he woke up.

  “I want to quit so bad,” Clark said one day. “I feel like a zombie.”

  “So just hang out here. All the food and Netflix you can stand and a swimming pool on the way.”

  “Mom won’t let me,” he said.

  “Well, if you don’t spend money, you don’t need it, right?”

  “Yeah. It’s not just that, though. She wants me to learn responsibility or something. And it’s good for college applications.”

  “Lisa’s worried you won’t go.”

  “To college?” Clark asked. “I may not. I don’t know yet.”

  “What else would you do?”

  “That is also something I don’t know yet.”

  “So, what’s something you’re good at? Aside from speaking made-up languages?”

  “Swimming,” he said. “But I’m not good enough to make a career out of it.”

  “That sucks. Are you sure?”

  “It would be a very short career. And then what?”

  “Maybe you can get paid to play video games or something. Don’t they need people for that?”

  “Oh no,” he said. “I don’t want my favorite thing to be my job. That would be a nightmare. No thank you.”

  “But you’d get paid to do what you love,” Solomon argued.