Read The Wayward Gifted - Broken Point Online
Authors: Mike Hopper,Donna Childree
Dr. Klesel said little. He watched and
he listened. Sam and Steuart looked both bored and depressed. Then, something
magical happened. Dr. Klesel leaned forward again. “I’d like to schedule
private sessions with Sam and Steuart twice a week. Also, I believe it would be
beneficial to schedule them back-to-back. This will allow for shared sessions
when we feel the need.”
“Did you actually say what I think you
just said?” Olivia asked.
“I did.”
“Without me?”
“That’s how it’s done.”
“
What?”
Olivia shouted. “This is ridiculous. Who do you think is paying your bill?
How can I help my children if you’ll not allow me to participate in their
appointments?”
“Ms. DuBoise, you’re asking for my
help. In order for therapy to work, the children need to be seen privately.
They need an opportunity to share their feelings openly without fear of
repercussion. That means I will not be reporting what is shared in our sessions.”
Olivia held her head in her hands once
more, “I don’t believe this. I came here for your help, and this is what I’m
getting? What kind of physician are you?”
“The best.”
The room was quiet. Olivia sat with her
head in her hands. Steuart and Sam smiled at the doctor.
“Ms. DuBoise, if you’re not comfortable
I can refer you to another physician.”
Olivia sat silently before speaking in
a softer voice, “No—you’ll do.”
Steuart leaned back, looked at Sam, and
winked. Sam smiled, unintentionally catching the doctor’s eye. Something felt right.
For once, Sam felt safe. Steuart did too.
“Why can’t I be with my children for
their appointments?”
“Sam and Steuart must have a place to
come where they’re able to speak openly and freely about the things that are on
their minds.”
“How can you help my children if I have
no idea what they’re telling you? This makes me uncomfortable. I should be
aware of what’s being discussed.”
“Ms. DuBoise, do you want my help? Do
you want me to treat your children?”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain?”
“I think so.”
“In addition to Sam and Steuart’s
sessions, I would like to see you.”
“That’s not necessary. There’s nothing
wrong with me. My children need your help.”
Dr. Klesel looked at Olivia, “Behavioral
problems in families are often symptomatic of deeper problems within the
family. The best results happen when parents are well trained.”
“I beg your pardon. I am not a dog. I
do not need to be trained, nor do I need anyone to teach me how to be a good
mother.”
“We need to stop for today and arrange
for next week.” Dr. Klesel scheduled two back-to-back sessions for each of the
children.
Olivia nodded.
“It’ll take a few weeks before we can
find a regular appointment slot. Until then, we can go week to week. Olivia
reluctantly agreed to see Dr. Klesel twice a month under the guise of “parental
updates.”
The family stood to leave and told the
doctor good-bye. Before walking out of the office, Sam handed her mother a
tissue. Olivia threw it into the trash.
* * *
Dr. Klesel’s office was located in
River Towers, a group of two residential high-rise buildings on the north side
of the river; about one-quarter of a mile from the DuBoise’s new home. He had a
view of the Preserve, the Maybell Hospital and the downtown Maybell skyline.
From his office, there were great sunsets and breathtaking views of the
Saugahatchee River. His office was a comfortable place for the children to
visit. In a short time, they felt safe, relaxed, and looked forward to their
appointments, which were beginning to feel more like visits than therapy.
At home one day while playing with
anagrams, Steuart became excited. “This is a good one,” he said. “Sam, I like
this. Look at Dr. Klesel. He’s a shark yeller.”
“What’s that?” Sam asked. “What’s a
shark yeller?”
“Well,” Steuart began, “It could mean
that he sees the sharks and he knows how to keep them away.” Steuart waited for
Sam’s response while she looked at the anagram.
“Like a light house?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Exactly, that’s what
I was thinking too.” Steuart rolled his eyes, and leaned forward with a laugh.
“Harry Klesel is a shark yeller.”
“Do you think he knows?” Sam asked.
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
Deciding to give the doctor a gift,
Steuart and Sam spent hours working on an art piece. Using pencils, markers, cutouts
from old catalogs, stickers, crayons and a bit of glitter too, they worked for
hours. They stitched on the paper with a needle and thread, glued beads and
shells, and added photos of themselves with cryptic clues in the margins of the
artwork. The piece became more of a collage than a drawing. Satisfied with
their work, Sam loosely rolled the picture, and tied it with repurposed gold
ribbon found in her mother’s gift-wrap closet. Steuart held his finger on the
knot as Sam finished making the bow. “What a fun surprise,” Sam said. “This was
a great idea.”
On good weather days, Steuart and Sam
rode their bikes to see the doctor.
They enjoyed having appointments one behind the other and enjoyed that his
office was close to their house.
A kind man who listened and talked
easily with the children, Dr. Klesel was tall and thin. He had curly gray hair,
and wore dark framed glasses. His voice was soft and deep. Sam, Steuart and Dr.
Klesel quickly became friends. Often, instead of sitting on the sofa, the three
of them sat on the big rug in the middle of the room and played games. Dr. Klesel
had a variety of interesting games and seemed to enjoy them as much as the
children. One day when they were together as a group, Steuart shared their
surprise. “Sam and I have something for you.”
Dr. Klesel untied the ribbon, unrolled
the picture and spread it on the floor. “What is this? Did you make this
wonderful artwork?”
Sam pretended to be the doctor. “What
does it look like to you?”
“Well, let me see,” Dr. Klesel bent
down and analyzed the artwork with a brass lizard-tail magnifying glass. “I see
your initials. You both made it, so we know this is your work of art.” He
paused, and looked at the children. “I think I’d like to hear your
interpretations.”
“We were hoping you’d play along,”
Steuart said. “We want to know what you think about it. What comes to mind?”
“Okay, I’ll try. Please remember, this
is your creation. What matters the most is what you think.” Dr. Klesel started
to say something and then he stopped, “I can’t help it,” he laughed. “What
comes to mind is that I’d like to know what this means to you.”
“Okay,” Steuart pursed his lips and
looked at the doctor before letting out a deep sigh. “If you insist—we
call it
Shark Yeller.”
“It’s you,” Sam added.
"I’m a
shark yeller
? What’s a shark yeller?”
“It’s not a realistic portrait of you,”
Sam explained. “It’s our interpretation. Think about it Dr. Klesel.” Sam looked
at Steuart, “Should we play the question game, or should we just explain?”
“He’s not so young and our sessions
don’t last that long. I think he needs our help.”
“Okay,” Sam nodded, “Shark Yeller is
the anagram for Harry Klesel.”
“I had no idea.”
“Steuart found it.”
“I did,” Steuart nodded. “We liked it
and decided to make this for you as a surprise.”
Dr. Klesel cocked his head and smiled
as he looked at the picture. He pointed and asked questions. “Shark Yeller, I
don’t understand. What makes me a Shark Yeller? That’s me?”
“Yes,” Steuart answered.
“Okay, but where am I? Am I hiding
someplace? I see two children, but I don’t see myself.”
“No, you’re not hiding,” Steuart blurted.
“You need to look harder. You’re the lighthouse with the face at the top.
You’re holding the big red bullhorn. See the initials S.Y.?”
Dr. Klesel nodded and listened.
“We’re the kids in the boat,” Sam
added.
“That’s a small boat. What can you tell
me about the boat?”
“Sam and I are in the boat together,”
Steuart explained. “See the sharks in the water?”
“I do. I see a large number of sharks
out there.” Dr. Klesel studied the art piece. “The water looks rough and choppy
to me.” He stopped for a moment before pointing to a shark wearing pearls. It
was jumping towards the boat. “I’m curious about this big shark, the one lunging
so close to your boat; the one on the giant wave, wearing bright pink
lipstick.”
Sam and Steuart ignored the question.
“The sharks,” Sam explained, “the
sharks are the danger all around us. You’re like a lighthouse. You’re helping
us see the sharks in the water. You’re helping us stay away from the danger.”
She waved her arms around as if she were rocking a boat. Steuart stood up and joined
his sister.
Dr. Klesel stood. He joined the
children rocking, and then wrinkled his forehead. “Are you in danger?”
Sam and Steuart became quiet.
“Is there something you want me to
know? That water looks very rough.”
Steuart sighed, “You understand these
things.” He walked across the room and looked out the window.
Dr. Klesel turned to Sam, “Would you
like to explain?”
“You understand. There’s nothing to
explain.” Sam joined her brother at the window. “We just wanted to give you a
gift. Do you like it?”
“Very much. Thank you.”
Steuart walked back towards the sofa,
“Let’s not spend our entire visit talking about your picture. It’s just a gift.
In a minute you’ll say
Sam, Steuart, our
time is up for today.
”
He looked
at his sister, “I think we should talk about the colors and the words.”
Sam agreed. She joined Steuart on the
sofa and sat comfortably. Dr. Klesel stayed on the floor, leaning back against
his chair. “What did you have in mind?” he asked.
“May I go first?” Sam asked.
“Sure.”
“The colors call me. It’s a kind of
magic. Only nothing has happened lately.”
“What do you think about that?”
“I don’t know.”
“If you did know, what might it be?”
“It makes me feel sad. The colors had
more magic on Atchison Bay. It’s not the same here.”
“What kind of magic?”
“Grandmother helped. She said that the
colors led me to important things and that I should pay attention to them for
that reason.”
“You miss your grandmother?”
“You know the answer to that question.
I miss her very, very, very, very, very, very much. I miss her every morning. I
miss her every day. I miss her more often than I don’t miss her. I always miss
my Grandmother.”
Steuart joined in, “Me too. I miss her
too. She helped Sam with colors. She helped me with my words.”
“In what way?”
“Grandmother taught us to pay attention
to words and names.
Look at the words,
look for anagrams, you’ll find hidden messages and meanings
, she said.”
Dr. Klesel listened.
“She said
they’ll take you places
.”
“What did she mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Steuart became quiet as
his thoughts drifted to sitting on the pier and looking out over the bay. He
remembered being home with Ida.
“What’d she say about it?” Dr. Klesel
asked.
“She said the anagrams would show me
things if I wanted to see them.”
“Yep,” Sam said, “just like she said
the colors would lead me. They’re puzzles.”
Steuart nodded, “We enjoy puzzles.”
“Grandmother likes for us to figure
things out.”
“I see.”
Steuart looked at the doctor, “Grandmother
says that we all need to find our own way.”
Dr. Klesel, Sam and Steuart sat quietly
for a few minutes. The doctor looked at the children. “I was thinking,” he said
before standing up and excusing himself. He went into an adjoining room and
returned with his hands behind his back. “I also have something for you.”
“What is it?” Steuart asked.
“You’re not the only people who can
have surprises.” Dr. Klesel nodded towards the door.
By this time, Sam was also standing. “What’s
your surprise? Is this a game?”