The days by his side

by M. C. S

  “I'm not going to talk about it with him. I just wanted to know his psychologist's name,” she looked at me a little puzzled before answering me.

  “She is Andréia Nascimento.”

  “Ok, thank you,” I left the kitchen in a hurry.

  “Wait, Elle!” I did not wait. I walked towards Ben's room. I stood with the glass in hand. I drank some of the water and tried to look as calm as possible, though my mind was a hurricane.

  I entered the room and watched the skinny boy typing something on the computer. Ben was pretty much muscled before the accident. He trained at a gym not far from here. I saw him entering there once while I was going to my grandmother's house.

  I kept trying to imagine what was going on in his mind the moment he attempted suicide. I just hope he got that idea out of his head. This has never been and never will be the solution to any problem. Ben caught me red-handed, watching him.

  “Took too long,” he said and then smiled.

  “I was talking to Laura. Your water,” I held the glass out to him.

  “Did you drink?”

  “If you want, I can change the glass,” I said, after realizing I should not have drunk his water.

  “No need.”

  After rehearsing the song, Ben convinced me to go to an ice cream parlor near his house. In fact, he begged. It was almost time for my mother to arrive and I had to prepare dinner.

  This was one of the most expensive ice cream shops in the region. The place was something like the 80's. The facade was colorful, and the awning was red with white stripes. The interior of the store was brightly lit, and some vinyl records hung on the wall. The chairs were colored armchairs and were not separated by color but were arranged randomly. The cashier was an old cash register, and I could not see any computers on site. Then I saw a poster with a message: We don't have Wi-Fi, please don't insist on asking. Just enjoy some songs from the 70's, 80's and 90's.

  I pushed Ben's chair over to a table in the corner near the wall. A short lady in her sixties ran toward us. It seemed that she had recognized Benjamin, what looked like to make her day pleasant. Her uniform seemed to have been taken from a few decades past as well. She left her grinning exposed and bent down to hug Ben. I was surprised that he returned the gesture.

  “Boy, you never showed up again,” she caressed Ben's face, revealing his fragile hand, wrinkled by the time.

  “Yeah, I was a little locked up.”

  “I went to see you after the accident, you didn't let me. You forbade me to enter your house.”

  “Did you do that, Benjamin?” I interfered in their conversation.

  “It wasn't like that.”

  “Oh no?” The old lady crossed her arms and laughed.

  “Ok, maybe it was a little awful, but just a little.”

  “You know, Ben had been here since he was little. It was one of our most loyal customers. We became good friends.”

  “I couldn't imagine Ben could have a friend like you.”

  “Old?”

  “I didn’t mean it,” I answered with a flushed face.

  “Oh, yes, she said!” Ben said mockingly.

  “Ben!” My voice came out reprehensible.

  “Don't worry, I know the type. Benjamin just wants to embarrass you. He is good in that. Just not expert in choosing a good girl. That Jessica bitch never showed up here after I told her some good truths.”

  “I do not want to talk about that,” Ben glanced sideways, looking angry.

  “But I want to know what you said to her,” I urged her to speak. I wanted Ben to see the real Jessica.

  “What’s wrong with you, Elle?”

  “I’m just curious.”

  “By the way, this is Elle! Elle, this is Mrs. Cida.”

  “What a pretty girl, a little thin but still pretty,” I forced a smile, though I was offended.

  “Yes, she’s beautiful,” I blushed once more as I heard Ben say this to someone else. “Only came with a manufacturing defect. She's the daughter of the worst teacher in school, and that's a big problem,” I glared at Ben. “So everyone feels entitled to make fun of her, once she can't make fun of her mother.”

  “But maybe it's not just that. Crosses! These glasses of hers are very ugly! Aren’t there glasses with thinner lens and smaller size?” they talked like I wasn't here. Ben and the lady talking about my appearance. “And she's so skinny.”

  “You already told me that,” I tried not to raise my voice. Ben and the lady exchanged glances and laughed discreetly. If their intention was to embarrass me, they succeeded.

  After a while there, chatting, where the main subject was me, we poured ourselves ice cream. We stayed there for almost an hour, listening to some songs that certainly did not belong to this century. Ben told me that his parents brought him here when he was a child. He kept coming here after he "grew up", always when his day or night would not be filled with party or alcohol. He liked it here and liked Mrs. Cida. I liked the high spirits it emitted. I saw Ben smile naturally, for real, as I had never seen him before.

  Soon after, he took me home. I waited for him to rotate his chair and stood at the gate, watching him get to his house safely. As soon as I saw him entering, I ran inside. I turned on the computer, and started a hunt, looking for Dr. Andréia Nascimento.

  11th Day

  I had a sleepless night, searching for Ben's psychologist on the internet. I never thought there were so many female doctors named Andréia Nascimento. But one in particular caught my attention, whose office was located in our neighborhood. It was a street where I had never been before; a street that was especially for businesses that sell expensive products, maybe that's why I never went there. But for me to go to a psychologist, first I would have to convince my mother. That was the hard part, but I had a plausible argument.

  After school, I called the office and managed to make an appointment, it was not the best time, since it was in the morning, and I had to study. But if I wanted to talk to the doctor as soon as possible, I would have to make an exception, as this was the only time available.

  “I made an appointment with the psychologist,” I said to my mother as I added some extra salad to my plate. She looked up, puzzled.

  “You what?”

  “I made...”

  “I already understood!” she interrupted me, visibly annoyed. “How did you do it without my permission? Why do you need a psychologist? Do you have a problem, Gabrielle?” mom put her hand on the table as if expecting me to quickly answer all her questions. I did not like the way she said my name.

  “I have no problem at all.”

  “But you have just got one now.”

  “Mom!” I leaned back in my chair. I needed to use my plausible argument quickly. “You know, this thing about studying medicine, I thought about working in the field of psychology. Just wanted to have an appointment to see how they really are. And if this is really the profession I want to pursue.”

  “Then that's it,” she looked at me and sighed with relief. Her face looked peaceful again. I think a daughter with psychological problems is the last thing she wanted now. “What is the date and time?”

  “It's next week. At eight in the morning.”

  “Class time, Elle?”

  “Yes. It was the only time available, if not just in a month.”

  “Is your case so urgent that you can't wait?” mom was reluctant a little until she finally agreed, I cited my plausible reason at least ten times. It was one of the hardest conversations I had with her, skipping school for her was just in emergency situations.

  In the afternoon, I went again to Ben's house. For the first time he showed me some photo albums. I search the album and saw the figure of toothless smiling boy. I smiled alone, remembering my old neighbor as a boy. At that time my platonic love for him did not exist yet.

  Ben was that kind of kid any other kid wanted away. Not very friendly except with his usual friends. I remember once him throwing a rotten egg at the school supe
rvisor. He just was not kicked out because his mother convinced the director that he was hyperactive. There was another time, which I am sure he does not remember, that he had thrown a bag full of dog poop in the backyard of my house. My mother worked it out as best she could, returning the package to Mr. and Mrs. Oliveira's house.

  12th Day

  Ben decided to tell me what his first kiss was like. I did not like it when he talked about girls, it bothered me deep inside, but I did not stop him from continuing. He did not like the feeling of touching with his lips other one’s by the age of 11. He found it strange and went to wash his mouth soon after. He liked the second kiss better, which occurred not long after.

  In his words, he found out at age of fifteen that he was handsome. He liked the way the girls looked at him, and the way they crawled after him. His ego has increased a little since then. With a lot of girls available, it took a while for love to reach his heart. And if he had known that loving someone was so painful, he would have put it off a little longer.

  I dipped into his eyes as he undid every word with his unconventional way. Ben was not the ideal guy, but he could become one when he wanted to. Occasionally, I returned to myself to prevent from being an idiot, for I was blatantly admiring Benjamin.

  13th Day

  He admitted that he always found me weird. He thought strange that I was always looking at the ground, not forward. He was trying to tell himself that this was typical of a shy person, but he still found me strange. And I ... I did not even know Benjamin noticed me, despite being neighbors. Of course our house is a block away, and that would be a great reason for him to know that I existed. And although he did not give a shit about my existence, I always knew he was there.

  14th Day

  Ben felt alcohol burn in his throat for the first time at the age of fifteen, and since then he never stopped.

  15th Day

  Ben told me that he has not yet resigned himself to becoming a paraplegic. He acts strong not to upset his mother. One day he cries and the next he tries to conform.

  16th Day

  We went to the ice cream parlor again, and he told me that it was at this place that he asked Jessica to go out with him. I tried to disguise my disdain at the fact. I tried to imagine at which table he had done it. I just hoped it was not at the table that we were. That day was at least annoying. It started with Jessica and was completed with Jessica. Jessica Jessica...

  17th Day

  I finally met Benjamin's father. A man over forty, but with a beauty that should still attract many eager looks. Mrs. Ana must be very jealous of him. She is a beautiful woman, but everyone could say that he is more. I tried to imagine Ben at this age, and that would be a good way to get past forty.

  Father and son talked about an internship. Mr. Paulo wanted me to give my sincere opinion about his son working with him. I thought it was a great idea, but Ben did not look happy. I think running his father's business is not the career he dreamed of. Ben's mother joined us in the living room. I noticed that she had dyed her hair. I liked the way she and Mr. Paulo got along.

  Later Ben said it was not always like this. The father walked away a little after the accident. He did not blame him. The mother also made things difficult. She thought she needed to be near her son all the time. It made Ben feel suffocated, but a bond of trust was forming between them now.

  18th Day

  Ben, at a time that the subject did not fit, told me he was no longer interested in Carla.

  “Now if she wants me, she'll have to run after me. If you want, you can tell her it's too late,” concluded with a smile.

  19th Day

  My mother dropped me off at the psychologist and went to work. I sat in one of the white armchairs, waiting to be announced. I checked again if the money to pay the appointment was right. I was the only patient at that time. But they had to comply with the delay ritual. I stayed there for over half an hour waiting to be called, even though having previously made the appointment. I looked for a magazine to read, but none of them had an updated date. It was always an old magazine, with content that no longer mattered these days. I ignored the magazine and tried to pay attention to what was on TV, but the volume was low enough to hear something. I wonder why they turn on the television and not turn up the volume? I wanted to remind them that the age of mute TV is long gone.

  At such times of long wait, it is always good to have a cell phone nearby. Unfortunately, I had forgotten mine at home. But first I had texted Carla to let her know Benjamin that I had gone to the ophthalmologist if he asked for me. He would not be suspicious of this poor excuse, since clearly, I need an ophthalmologist.

  As soon as they announced my name, Dr. Andréia welcomed me with a beautiful smile. She looked much younger than in the picture I saw.

  Her office was nice and cozy. I noticed on the shelf near the light-colored wall many books, but I doubt any of them would interest me. I could see the mahogany table on the left side of the room. The doctor sat down in a chair, and I stood across the table with an empty chair by my side. I looked around and could see what really caught my attention in the movies and TV shows, the couch next to the chair from which the doctor would probably try to make me confess what was tormenting me, not imagining that I was the one that was longing to take something from her.

  It did not take long for her to take me to the couch. I could sleep easily, since the padding was peculiarly soft. With a clipboard and pen in hand, the doctor began the questions:

  “Why did you seek therapy?” her voice tone was casual, showing no feeling at all. It was just a routine question she was used to ask.

  “And ... I ...” I had an answer to that, but I did not want to say it all at first. I started to touch the bar of my shirt, denouncing my nervousness. “We can skip this for now.”

  “You came alone, as far as I can tell. Does your mother agree with your presence here today?” my mom? I did not want to talk about her. But neither could I say that to the doctor.

  “I kind of convinced her. I made up an excuse.”

  “So your mother doesn't know the real reason you're here,” she did not ask a question but said so. “How is your relationship with your mother?” There was a deadly silence to me. Of course I had to answer.

  “We do everything we can to get along. But sometimes she's a little bossy. Sometimes I feel suffocated.”

  More questions were asked, making me forget for a moment why I was there. I wanted to know about Ben, what was going on in his head. I couldn’t decipher it, the woman next to me must know everything about him. I just need to know if he really tried to commit suicide and if that idea still goes through his mind.

  “How many minutes do we have left?” The doctor ignored my question and went on. But before she asks her next question, I asked mine first. “Do you have a patient by the name of Benjamin Oliveira? He probably has another last name, but I never asked what it is.”

  “I don't talk about my patients to other patients.”

  “But that seemed to be a confession anyway.”

  “You're being inconvenient, Gabrielle.”

  “Just Elle,” I allowed myself to sit on the divan, looked at the doctor with narrowed eyes. She looked surprised by something I could not capture.

  “Just Elle,” she repeated. Finally I could see the doctor smile naturally. A sarcastic smile that seemed very familiar.

  “I just need to know what's on his mind about life,” I could not say the word death, so I would rather replace it.

  “I thought we were having an appointment. I do not allow the entry of third parties.”

  “Not just any third party. It's Benjamin, and I urgently need to know what's going on in his head.”

  “Why don't you ask him? What prevents you?” her voice finally seemed to convey a bit of emotion, as if the appointment was over, and we were talking like normal people, not patient and doctor.

  “I don't think he wants to talk about it.”

  “I'm sorry,
but I can't help you. Consultations are confidential.”

  “Just answer me if Benjamin really attempted suicide, or if he still has these kinds of thoughts?”

  “Ask him,” she intimidated me. I shook my head no. “So this is the reason for your consultation?” I nodded. “So there won't be a second time?” I shook my head. “And everything you feel about your mother? Will you keep it to yourself?”

  “One day we solve,” I decided to insist once again, like a spoiled child who, no matter how much he gets no, will never accept that no as an answer. “Ben, do you think he's happy?” I decided to rephrase the question. “After all he's been through? The accident, the abandonment of friends, girlfriend.”

  “You're giving me pity,” she hissed. “Why don't you answer me how much you love Benjamin?” she shot.

  “I never said that.”

  “It's written on your face, the way you ask questions. Does Benjamin know you have ulterior motives with him?”

  “I have no ulterior motives with him. What kind of psychologist are you?”