"Max" Chapter 5

Max sat in the therapist waiting room in between Mom and Dad. Two days ago after Dad regained consciousness he and Mom tried to figure out what to do with Max. They did not want to call the police. Max was now 12 and still too young for prison. And juvenile centers did more harm than good. Mom had seen a story claiming this on the news so it had to be true. So here they were.

“This is gonna be good for all of us, Max” Dad said. “You’ll see.” Max said nothing.

“Of course it is” Mom said aloud. “When was the last time Max had a haircut?” she asked no one in particular.

“You’re doing it again” Max said. His parents froze.

“Jerry will see you now, Max” the receptionist said.

Max stood and walked into Jerry’s office. The wall was covered in plaques and children’s drawings. Many of them were thanking Jerry for helping them get better. Max smiled. On the inside. Jerry motioned for Max to have a seat. Max sat and stared at Jerry.

“How are you doing, Max?” Jerry asked. Max said nothing. “So you’re one of those kids? I see. Either way my name is Jerry. I’m not here to be your new best friend though that may happen. I’m here to figure out why you assaulted your father.” Max smiled. On the outside.

“I didn’t assault him” max said. “I woke him up.”

“Explain ‘woke him up’ to me” Jerry said. He removed his glasses and leaned forward.

“For my entire life they’ve done nothing but ignore me. They figured that they were good parents because they kept my clothed and fed. But there’s so much more to raising a child than that. I’m not a plant. I needed them to talk to me. I needed them to hug me. I needed them to ask me how school was going. I needed them for a lot of things but they never did.” Max lifted his finger to his mouth and tugged at his lower lip. “Before you ask, yes, I could have said something to them. But they don’t hear me. Once when I was 6 I fell off of my bike and broke my arm. They never noticed. I sat at the table eating dinner with them as my arm dangled at my side turning three shades of purple. They never noticed. A teacher at school did and I was rushed to the hospital just before infection set in. My parents never asked how it happened. Instead they discussed the dangers of lead paint that might be in our home. So when I say I woke my father up, I did. He saw me. He woke up.”

“Interesting” Jerry said. Max glared.

“Don’t say that” Max said. “When people say something is interesting that is just their passive aggressive way of letting you know that they have nothing to say. How long have you been doing this? This is supposed to be therapeutic but all it is doing is upsetting me. Yeah, I know a part of this nonsense is to get me to vent. But I have already. I am no longer upset. I am nothing.”

“You feel you’re worth nothing?” Jerry asked. Max sighed.

“No” Max said. “I know that I am worth something. I feel like nothing. Are you even listening to me? What’s the worst day of your life?”

“I’m in no position to answer that, Max” Jerry said. “It would be very unprofessional on my part to tell you such information.” Max scoffed.

“Well let me tell you the worst day of my life” Max said. “My parents in their infinite wisdom decided to take me to a therapist that could offer nothing to me. I have never had a great day. I just lived. I just wanted to exist. I have no dreams of being a fireman, policeman, or doctor. I just want to be left alone. But there is something about me that makes people want to bother me. If I want to sit around of the roof of my school because its quiet that means I want to commit suicide. If I want to collect garbage to create art that means I am crazy. Because I don’t play grab ass during recess it means I am gay. There is no pleasing anyone the right way so I decided to please myself. Is that so wrong?”

In the reception area.

“I read a story in the paper today” Mom said. “85% of children will at some point in their life before the age of 15 commit an assault.”

“How old is Max?” Dad asked while rubbing the bandage that ran across his forehead. “He should be around that age, right?”

“I wonder how old Max is” Mom asked. “He is around 14 I think.”

“I’m 12 now” Max said as he walked out of Jerry’s office, closing the door behind him. “Let’s go.”

“You feel better?” Mom asked aloud.

“I’m sure he does” Dad said. “Look at how fast he’s going!”

Half an hour later the receptionist discovered a badly beaten Jerry under his desk.

To be continued.