Session Eight:
Mequi sat in his chair, shuffling through papers as he waited for Chance to arrive. He had been a horrible therapist for the past week as his mind would not permit him to focus on what he needed to. His clients had complained that he was not listening to them and he had forgotten how many times he had apologized for this particular blunder, not including when he would mix up his clients’ names and their stories with those of others. It was as if his mind was still wandering in the past that Chance had described to him.
It did not help that he could not stop thinking about his kissing of Chance. He was stunned that Chance had not been revolted by the action, but he could imagine that Chance understood. It was not as if Mequi had intended to kiss his client, but he knew that the action had been wrong. He had been so worked up and his heart had been floating off into sorrows while his mind had been so jumbled with all that was going on. He knew that was no excuse, but he still wanted to use it as one.
“Poor Chance…” He whispered to himself, shaking his head.
“What about me?” The young man’s voice sent thrills racing up Mequi’s back and he quickly looked up to see his client in the doorway.
“Why must you always look so different?” Mequi asked with a pleased smile. If Chance did not come in opposing attire every week, Mequi would think something was wrong with the young man.
Chance wore red and black checkered pajama bottoms and a loose black t-shirt with a red melting heart on it. Fuzzy black slippers encased his feet and his hair was a mess. All-in-all, it looked like he had just crawled out of bed only moments before.
“Sorry.” Chance chuckled as he took his seat. “I was sleeping and then I woke up to see the time…I didn’t have time to change.”
“It’s all right.” Mequi grinned at the young man. “I think you look good in whatever you wear…”
Inwardly, Mequi cursed. He knew the comment was undoubtedly a flirt.
“Is that what you think?” Chance burst with laughter. “You always have a shocked look on your face whenever you see me! I thought you thought I was weird!”
“No no no no no!” Mequi repeated over and over again. “ I think you look very gorgeous…shit…”
Chance’s face was startled for only a moment and then he laughed again. “Were did I leave off last week?”
Mequi tried to collect himself quicker, but he was still too frazzled from his overt flirting with his client. He wanted to run away and hit himself a million times in the head for his actions.
“I think…it was…with my new tutor…”
“Right.” Chance lied down on the couch and Mequi smiled at how comfortable the young man looked. “Well, your junior high years went by. Unlike with your elementary years, you did not have two grades to pass per year and went through two normal years, completely tortured by Mr. Burkhart…and then there was the summer between your junior high and high school years…and the tragedy that occurred during that time…”
~~*~~
Mequi sat on his bed in his room, wondering if it was all right for a boy of only nine to be home alone. Abruptly, the phone rang and he jumped at the sound. It was almost midnight! What was someone doing calling at this hour?
Rushing from his room, he dashed down the stairs and picked up the phone instantly.
“Hello, this is the Tobbinson Household. Mequi speaking…” Mequi’s heart leapt at the gruff voice of a male.
“Are you the son of Mr. and Mrs. Tobbinson?” The man asked in a stern tone.
“I am.” Mequi replied, his heart thumping faster with each passing second.
“I am Officer Sam Query.” The man continued. “Son, your parents have been in a car accident…your mother is…well, your mother is dead, son.”
Mequi was not sure how he felt in that moment. He felt the tears running down his cheeks, but did not feel his throat thickening in the least bit. Was it merely the shock that was causing him to feel this way? Slowly, he lifted a hand to his throat and felt it, wondering why he did not hurt on the inside.
“Are you all right, son?” Sam Query asked, his voice concerned.
“I’m fine.” Mequi whispered. “Sir, I’m nine years old and I’m home alone. Please, would you mind picking me up and taking me to the hospital?”
“What the…” The officer’s tone changed instantly then Mequi heard the man talking to a nearby person on the other end. “Shit! This kid says he’s nine and home alone, but he talks like an adult!”
“You’re kidding.” The person with the officer sounded sarcastic. “Well, what does he want?”
“He wants me to take him to the hospital.”
“Then do it.”
“Hey, son, you still on?”
“Yes, I am.” Mequi replied, taking the phone with him as he walked to the door and slipped on his shoes. “Can you take me to the hospital, sir?”
“I can.” Sam replied. “Your father’s going to be all right. I want you to know that.”
“Sir…” Mequi began to tremble a little. “I cried…but it doesn’t hurt…does this mean…that I don’t care?”
There was silence for a long time on the other end and Mequi considered the possibility of the man having hung up on him, but then Sam’s voice came back over the phone. This time, it was strained and uncertain.
“I wouldn’t say that you don’t care.” Sam whispered. “Maybe, it just hasn’t sunk in yet.”
“Maybe…” Mequi sighed. “Let’s hope.”
“I’m outside your house.” Sam informed the boy and Mequi hung up before dashing out of the house, locking the door behind himself.
“Hello, sir.” Mequi stated as he got into the car. “Thank you for picking me up.”
Mequi was slightly shocked to see how young Sam Query was. He had sounded a lot older over the phone, but he could be no more than twenty-eight. His hair was a tangled blond upon his head and his eyes were a piercing blue. With tan skin and a well-built body, the man looked like a girl’s desired surfer boy.
“You’re welcome.” Sam smiled at Mequi, but it was obvious that he was concerned. “You weren’t lying when you said you were nine.”
“I wouldn’t lie.” Mequi informed the officer. “Which hospital were they taken to?”
“Gerard’s Memorial Hospital.” Sam replied as he pulled from the curb. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Mequi sighed as he looked out the window. “As I said before, I don’t hurt.”
After that, silence fell between them.
Mequi knew that his actions and speech both confused and worried Sam, but he did not know how to act or speak like a child his age should. He was too accustomed to acting years above his own age.
“What grade are you going into?” Sam finally asked after several minutes of thought. “School starts in a week.”
“I’m going into ninth grade.”
“No way!” Sam yelped. “You’re only nine!”
“I know.” Mequi smiled at the officer. “But I’m far ahead in school. I’ve been tutored fourth through eighth grade. That’s why I’m so far ahead.”
“I see.” Sam murmured, his face growing angry. “That’s cruel, though, for parents to make their child an adult before he’s even a teenager.”
“I don’t mind.” Mequi stated calmly. “I’d rather be mature than a brat.”
“You never had a chance to be a child!” Sam yelped, glancing over at Mequi. “It was cruel of them!”
Mequi did not respond to Sam’s words. He did not know what to say. Vienza had thought the same and had voiced his concern about how Mequi never acted like a child, but the man had still accepted him for who he was and had finally consented to Mequi’s wishes of teaching the boy how to be adult-like in conversation and actions. Mr. Burkhart had also voiced his worries when it concerned Mequi’s adult-like behavior and speech. It was as if being mature at his age was something bad. Mequi had never viewed his maturity as bad, but it was obvious that adults did not like to see a child grow up too quickly.
His parents, however, had never once mentioned to Mequi that he acted far too grown up.
“I’m sorry.” Sam whispered, interrupting Mequi’s thoughts. “I shouldn’t have said that. You just lost your mother.”
“It’s okay.” Mequi shrugged. “A lot of people have voiced their concerns when it comes down to my premature maturity.”
Sam let out an exasperated wail. “You are acting too old!”
~~*~~
Mequi was chuckling even as tears filled his eyes. “That was such a crazy conversation.”
“You want to cry because you feel bad for not being sad.” Chance stated as he looked at Mequi. “It hurt you most that you did not hurt.”
Mequi let out an uneasy sigh. “That’s true.”
Chance stood and went to the space right in front of Mequi and then sat down on the coffee table. Taking Mequi’s hands into his own, he kissed the man’s fingers. “I’m sorry, Mequi.”
Mequi’s cheeks were crimson. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“I know.” Chance let his forehead rest upon Mequi’s hands. “I’m sympathizing.”
“Ah…” Mequi whispered. “I see…sympathy…Chance, are you tired? You look tired…”
“I am.” Chance’s voice sounded breathy. “I need to get some sleep as soon as I get home.”
“You work too hard.” Mequi moved one of his hands and placed it onto Chance’s head. “You should quit a couple jobs and actually live a life.”
“I can’t.” Chance yawned. “I…my life is pointless…I work so I can live and I live so I can work. It’s a pointless existence.”
“Don’t say that.” Mequi’s throat began to thicken. “Don’t say that, Chance. You’re life has more purpose than just that.”
“Maybe…” Chance slumped a little more. “Maybe, it was to come and talk to you…I’ve been wondering what will happen after I finish telling you the end…after I finish with it all…and finally take my leave…”
“My life didn’t stop with you calling me for therapy.” Mequi chuckled, but his voice was moist. “It’s still going…and you’re still beside me…”
Chance looked up at Mequi then, staring into his eyes. “Only once a week.”
“It’s a start.” Mequi smiled as he planted a kiss on Chance’s forehead, knowing full well that he was pushing his luck. “You’re time is up. Please, come back next week.”
Chance nodded slowly as he stood. “I will…um…could we extend our time? It’s taking so long to tell you all of this and we keep getting interrupted or interrupting ourselves…”
“Yes.” Mequi nodded. “I’ll extend it one more hour…you can stay longer right?”
“I can.” Chance placed his hands on Mequi’s shoulders. “You know, I don’t regret seeing your life. I’m glad…I got to meet someone like you…”
Mequi tried to smile appreciatively, but his heart was pounding too quickly for him to control himself. “Thank you…”
“No.” Chance started away. “Thank you!”