Chadwick's Epic Revenge

by Lisa Doan

  Mr. Samson held his hands up. “I’m not even going to ask what that means.”

  “It means he’s becoming seriously delusional, Mr. Samson,” Terry said. “At this point, you’ve done all you can—he needs professional help.”

  “What I need,” I said, “is a professional bodyguard who can take out any deranged person who can never let go of one thing for years and years.”

  Terry didn’t even flinch. He just sat back and smiled at Jana.

  After group, Suvi stopped me in the hall. “What is up with you?” she asked. “First bullying, and now you’re afraid of poems? Marilee said she saw with Her Own Eyes that you were going to rob Terry for your gang—was it for drug money?”

  I was getting a little tired of Marilee Marksley’s eyes. “Marilee’s eyes were not even in that hallway unless they can now jump out of her eye sockets and were rolling around on the floor by themselves,” I said. “Terry totally framed me. He held himself against my locker like I was beating him up, but I’m not a bully! I don’t want to fight anybody. Terry keeps framing me for stuff because I know the real truth about his dad, which unravels all his lies. He’s nothing like Lance Stalwart—you see that, right?”

  Suvi glanced at a S.A.B. flyer someone had taped to the wall.

  “The poems are a whole other story that has nothing to do with it,” I said, it now having occurred to me that revealing I had been traumatized by poems might not have sounded totally rational without knowing the whole situation. “Look, how is it possible that if I was chasing Terry down, we ended up at my locker?” I paused and wondered why I hadn’t thought of that before. How come Principal Grimeldi had failed to notice that fact?

  “Maybe,” Suvi said, looking thoughtful. “I’ve been a little suspicious about something Terry said. I told my mom and dad about the Jeep accident and they said they’d never heard of that happening, even though they’ve both worked at the hospital for years. My mom thought that was strange because they always talk about the interesting cases over lunch. She said, if somebody came in with eight crushed fingers, it would still be a hot topic at lunch.”

  “See!” I said. “Finally, somebody else gets that he’s lying!”

  “So, you weren’t trying to rob Terry for drug money?”

  “No!”

  “And you’re not delusional about poetry? I mean, delusional in the clinical sense, not the name-calling sense?”

  “No, but Vance has been gaslighting me. You know, trying to make me go insane. Who knows what I’m getting delusional about.”

  “So you think he’s done it?” Suvi asked, looking at me with a critical eye.

  “I can’t tell,” I said. “It’s hard to be totally positive one way or the other.”

  “Hmmm,” Suvi said. “This is the first decent psychological problem I’ve seen. Especially if you actually have gone insane. Maybe I could evaluate you; it would be good practice for my career.”

  I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be evaluated by Suvi Singh. What if it came out bad? Her parents were doctors, who knew what they might do about it.

  “I could do it after school,” she said. “But you’d have to wait until four thirty. I always watch Mission Almost Impossible as soon as I get home. Usually it would be later, but I’m done with dance committee. I’ve accomplished all that I can there.”

  Suvi watched Mission Almost Impossible? If I let her evaluate me, I might actually get to see how Hank from Virginia was doing? “I love that show. It’s reality television at its finest,” I said.

  Suvi stretched herself taller and leaned over me. Suddenly, she didn’t look so friendly. “Are you mocking me? Is a highly intelligent person never supposed to relax via commonplace activities the average American finds entertaining? Do you have opinions on that, foreigner?”

  “What?” I said. “No. I don’t have any foreign opinions.”

  Suvi kept staring at me.

  “Seriously. I’m rooting for Hank, I’m pretty sure he’s going to take home the prize.”

  “No way,” Suvi said. “Barb from Vegas has it wrapped up.”

  “She’s pretty good, but Hank is stronger and the challenges are getting harder.”

  “We’ll see who gets the first bird’s egg.”

  “Could I see it?” I asked, my voice sounding full of the hope of a reality-show addict who had been denied access.

  Suvi thought for a moment. Then she said, “You can come over and watch it if you want. But only if you don’t talk over the show. If you talk over the show—you’ll get deported right out the front door. After it’s over, I’ll do a psychological workup on you.”

  “I won’t talk over the show. I swear.”

  * * *

  Suvi only lived six blocks from me. I never saw her on the bus because I was on the number twelve and she was on the number eleven, but sometimes I saw her at the pool or the park. Up until now, I had steered clear of her because of her extreme smartness, though I never said that out loud to anyone except Rory. I had said it in front of my mom once and then had to listen to an hour-long lecture on women’s rights. I’m all for women’s rights so I finally told my mom that I was too stupid to hang with Suvi because I was a guy. She seemed satisfied with that explanation.

  I felt like I should bring Rory with me to Suvi’s house. Even though it was only Suvi, technically she was a girl. I had never set foot inside a girl’s house and there might be all kinds of rituals I knew nothing about. No matter how badly I stumbled through something, Rory could be counted on to do something worse and make me seem not that bad. Then, when I was being mentally evaluated, Rory could defend me if some of my answers seemed strange. He knew my whole history and could provide crucial explanations for anything I did or said that didn’t sound totally rational. That is, if he could bother to remember the details of my life. I still couldn’t get over that the sunset-orange crayon of first grade was news to him.

  “I don’t want to watch a reality show and sit in on a psychiatric session,” Rory said. “I want to be at your house having snacks, like we always do.”

  “You think you don’t want to watch the show,” I said, “but that’s just because you didn’t see Hank hanging from a cliff in the Philippines. Being mentally evaluated is a small price to pay to find out what happens. Anyway, Vance has been riding me pretty hard these past couple of weeks and it wouldn’t hurt to get a professional opinion to find out if I’m cracking under the pressure.”

  “You cracked a long time ago,” Rory said. “You don’t need Suvi to tell you that. Why can’t we just watch the show at your house?” he asked. “I mean, Suvi is, you know…”

  “Scary. I know. But we can’t watch it at my house—no DVR.”

  “I have a DVR. We could record it tomorrow and watch it at my house,” Rory said.

  “Your mom makes us drink kale smoothies,” I pointed out.

  “I know! I’ve told her a million times that I’m against them. They’re in my notebook with five stars next to them—my highest rating for things I’m against. But she just acts like I didn’t say anything and starts the blender.”

  “Your house is out until your dad pulls off Mission Save Ourselves,” I said.

  Rory groaned. “He’s getting nervous about it. We were all set for a go, and then my mom canceled her tennis lesson this week. She says she has a sore elbow, but my dad is wondering if she knows something is up. He’s all fidgety around her and keeps chasing her around trying to rub Bengay on her elbow. We’ll see if she cancels next week’s lesson.”

  “As I said, your house is out. Listen, if we just stick to talking about the show, Suvi won’t be that scary. It’s only when you talk to her about science and facts that you’re lost in five minutes and feel yourself going down the drain. If she starts talking about data and you don’t understand what she’s saying, just nod—that’s what I do. All you have to do is defend me while she’s doing my evaluation. You know, if it starts to look like she’s getting suspicious about my sanity.”
<
br />   “How am I supposed to defend your sanity?”

  “If she starts talking about any kind of diagnosis, you can change the subject and tell her about all the things you’re against.”

  “Do you think she’d be interested in what I’m against?” Rory asked, clearly finding the idea intriguing.

  “Probably,” I said, hoping to lure Rory on. “I mean, I’m used to your notebook, but it would be all brand-new to Suvi.”

  * * *

  We knocked on Suvi’s door while I held on to Rory’s shirt collar so he couldn’t have second thoughts. It would be just like him to make a run for it, yell “Save yourself,” break into my house, and eat everything in the kitchen.

  “Hey,” Suvi said as she opened the door. She glanced at Rory. “You’re a Mission Almost Impossible fan too?”

  “Um, actually,” Rory said, “I’ve never seen it. But Chadwick says it’s great.”

  “You have no idea,” Suvi said.

  We went into the living room. Just as I had suspected, Suvi’s house was overflowing with knowledge. There was a whole wall of bookshelves full of serious-looking books and a pile of magazines about architecture and medicine. In my house, we only got People. No wonder I couldn’t understand half of what Suvi said. I never had a fighting chance.

  I noticed a large bowl of potato chips on the coffee table—it was almost like Suvi had known I would bring Rory with me. He ran toward them with his hands out like a zombie chasing human flesh. I hoped she didn’t actually want any of the chips—she would never be able to get to them in time.

  “Here we go,” Suvi said.

  Mission Almost Impossible was riveting. All three contestants were still on the cliff in the Philippines, desperately trying to get a bird’s egg. Hank from Virginia slipped and if it weren’t for his harness, he would have plummeted to a bloody death. He swung helplessly, banging into the side of the mountain.

  Your average guy would have given up, but Hank grabbed a ledge, swung a leg up, and reached forward. He held a bird’s egg over his head, victorious. Barb from Vegas was right behind him. Jeremy from Nebraska got an egg before Barb, but he broke it and got disqualified. He was going back to the Midwest with egg literally on his face.

  Rory sat back and said, “This show is awesome.”

  “I know, right?” Suvi said, shutting off the DVR. “What kind of people would risk their lives on a television show? As a medical professional, it’s these kinds of questions that keep me up at night.”

  “Those people are nuts!” Rory said.

  “It really isn’t appropriate, or accurate, to call somebody nuts,” Suvi said to Rory, “but I suppose I can’t blame you for not knowing. Another thing you should know is that usually a doctor and her patient would speak privately. There might be all sorts of things Chadwick wants to reveal during our session that would be embarrassing or against the law. Confidentiality is everything.”

  “Rory already knows everything about me,” I said, “At least, everything he bothers to remember. He can explain anything you think might not be totally normal.”

  Suvi nodded. “Very well, we will begin.”

  I sat still in my chair, feeling like I didn’t know how to act while I was being evaluated. If I leaned back and looked casual, did that say something? If I sat up straight, did that say something? What did normal look like? Why hadn’t I paid attention to how I sat before Vance began driving me insane so I could copy it now?

  “What do you feel is your biggest problem?” Suvi asked.

  That one was easy. I had been wrestling with the same big problem for most of my life. “It’s not a what, it’s a who. Terry Vance,” I said. “He’s my biggest problem. I call him the Nile crocodile. Except last year I called him the assassin. And then other years there were other names. The viper, the deathstalker scorpion, stuff like that…”

  Suvi was silent and staring, neither approving nor disapproving of what I said. I looked to Rory for help, but he was licking his finger and rubbing it around the empty bowl of potato chips to get the last of the salt.

  Suvi finally broke the silence and said, “And why do you think Terry Vance is a problem for you?”

  “I told you how he framed me for voting for myself as dance king and he framed me for bullying him and he’s gaslighting me.”

  “You were speaking to Suvi at that time, not me.”

  “Um … who am I speaking to now?” I asked.

  “Dr. Singh,” she said. “If I am going to evaluate you, I have to maintain professional distance. Now, tell me more about what has been happening to you.”

  “Okay,” I said, “remember in the library when I showed you, I mean, I showed Suvi, that description of a book about the movie Gaslight? Then you said all kinds of stuff I couldn’t understand. Terry checked out that book—it explains the whole psychology of gaslighting. He’s using the techniques to make me crazy, but I’m really sane, just like the lady in the movie. At least, I hope so. That’s why he framed me for voter fraud and then framed me for bullying and told everybody I grill squirrels and kick dogs and trip old ladies and have a fungus. He’s trying to make Jana think I’m insane, which is the one thing he knows would be guaranteed to make me insane.”

  “And do you do those things?” Suvi asked. “Do you grill squirrels and kick dogs and trip old ladies? Do not be ashamed to admit it—the important thing is that you are here, asking for help.”

  “I never did any of those things! I’m a nice person. I really am. At least, I’m pretty sure that I am. Rory? I’m nice, right?”

  Rory didn’t answer, which was not surprising since he now had his face inside the potato-chip bowl so he could lick out the salt more efficiently.

  “Tell me more of Jana,” Suvi said. “If it is true that you would, indeed, go insane if she thought you were insane, she must be an important figure in your life. How do you feel about her?”

  “Well, I mean, she’s Jana Sedgewick,” I said.

  “Try and be specific,” Suvi said. “What qualities does she possess that you find so compelling?”

  “Um, she’s the girl of all girls. That’s obvious.”

  “Obvious to you, perhaps,” Suvi said. “But why? What makes her the girl of all girls?”

  “Well,” I said, “I like her hair. It’s red. There are different shades of red and hers is really dark red, which I think looks great. In the sun, it almost looks like her skull is on fire. Also, I smelled it once and it smelled like grass.”

  Rory snorted from inside the chip bowl.

  Suvi nodded as she took notes. “What else? Besides her hair?”

  “Besides her hair? Well, there would be, that she’s popular. That’s good, right?”

  “Her hair and her social standing,” Suvi said. “What else?”

  What else? I searched my brain for what else. Her hair was great and she was popular. What else? It was Jana Sedgewick—there were a million things to like. What were they?

  It began to dawn on me that I didn’t know what those other million things were. “Uh … I think that’s it, actually,” I said.

  “So, let me see if I understand you correctly,” Suvi said, reviewing her notes. “Your biggest problem is Terry Vance, who is trying to make a red-haired popular girl think you are insane, thereby driving you insane.”

  That pretty much summed it up, though it didn’t sound so logical when Suvi said it.

  “Chadwick, I believe you need to clarify your goals,” Suvi said. “What is it you really want?”

  What did I really want? Did I really want Jana to be my girlfriend just because she was popular and had red hair? When I fell for Jana last year, I didn’t actually know her. It had just seemed important to be part of a power couple; so many other kids were doing it. I had looked around for somebody and noticed her hair. After that, I would go to basketball games and pretend to care who won, but really just watch her cheer and swing her hair all over the place. Then I started to think about her hair when she wasn’t even aroun
d. That had seemed like a sign that we should be a couple.

  Jana was at the front of the herd and I was shuffling along in the middle, slowly lurking and creeping my way forward. Along the way, I had filled in all these great personality traits that I kind of assumed she had, because she was at the front of the herd. I mean, how else could she have gotten there? But once I got close enough to know her, I noticed that she was more complicated than I would have thought. And sometimes a little scary.

  And here was Suvi, pretty complicated and scary herself. Were they all like that? It would make having a popular girlfriend harder than I’d thought. It would make having any girlfriend harder than I’d thought.

  But what about Cheryl? All girls couldn’t be complicated and scary. Mark’s girlfriend wasn’t.

  I paused. Nobody actually knew what Cheryl thought about. She could be thinking about murdering us in our beds for all Mark knew about it.

  Being a part of a couple felt a lot more complicated than just sitting together at lunch, now that I was viewing it up close.

  “I can’t be totally sure,” I said to Suvi, “but maybe I don’t have the crush on Jana that I thought I did.”

  Suvi nodded and smiled as if I’d had some kind of breakthrough in my therapy. “You were never in love with Jana in the first place,” Suvi said. “You were in love with a person you created in your imagination.”

  Dr. Singh was good. Very good.

  “Since you have gained further insight into your feelings, how has your view of Terry changed?” Suvi asked. “Will he still able to drive you insane by making Jana think you are insane?”

  “Probably not,” I said, “but he’ll just think of something else. He always thinks of something else.”

  “I see. Terry will remain an ongoing issue for you to confront and work through. What strategies have you employed to solve your problem with your classmate?” Suvi asked, chewing on the end of her pencil.