"Maybe he isn't lonely. Maybe he doesn't need to get laid."
"What do you mean?"
"Why don't you tell me."
"I don't know," I said.
"Give it a try," Krista implored. "Imagine playing a game, its name is reasons why your Dad doesn't need to get laid."
"My mom cut his balls off." I said.
"That's one. Give me another."
"Um, he's celebrate."
"He's what?"
"He's celebrate. You know, like a priest."
"Celibate," Krista corrected.
"Whatever. He is catholic. I remember going to church as a kid. I don't remember going after my mom left. Come to think of it, maybe he isn't celebrate."
"Celibate."
"Whatever."
"Any others?"
"He's a bigger jerk-off than me." I blushed as the words slipped off my tongue. "Any more?"
I hesitated, knowing the only other answer. The blush of embarrassment gave way to the flush of anger.
"Yeah, that."
"What?" I played dumb.
"That thought. The reason you're angry. Tell me, what are you thinking?"
"You're the doctor, why don't you tell me," I rubbed my temples.
"I'm a doctor not a mind reader," Krista said.
Sinking further back into my chair I complained that I didn't feel good.
"Stick with me James," Krista ordered.
"I'm ignoring you now," I said.
Leaning forward in her chair, her weight shifting onto her arms, Krista looked ready to pounce. "Could it be you're angry. Do you blame him for your mother? Or maybe, you're jealous. Is that it?"
I pulled my knees up to my chest to hide my nakedness. I rocked back and forth in the chair. Krista's sharp words were replaced with a maternal gaze. We sat in silence.
"James," she said breaking the silence. "It's okay. Those feelings are natural." I heard Krista stand. I imagined her gliding over the carpeted floor. I felt her hand upon my arm. "James, take this." she handed me what I thought was a pillow. I hugged it. When I noticed a teddy bear buried into my shoulder, I punched it before whipping against the far wall.
***
I was discharged from inpatient status the week before Christmas. I learned it wasn't that big of deal. I slept at home, but I still spent eight hours a day, five days a week at the torture chamber. It would be months until Lenape Valley Rehab gave me my walking papers, and even then a facilitator would visit two or three times a week. It would be two years before I escaped the facilitator's talons. I saw Krista weekly until 1999 when I moved out west.