Page 133 of The Sound of Him

It’s a fragile moment of relief, just a chance to catch your breath before the next storm comes.

Ominous. That’s the word I wanted. The picture is bright relief, but that cloud moving in overhead is dark and ominous.

“Do you see where I was maybe coming from with these?”

I nod. I do. I see.

“Do you think you could try to draw me how you’ve been feeling since Carter and Casey left, Matt?”

I eye the stack of fresh papers, then the pencil box. I nod, tentatively this time. I can at least try.

“Would you mind if I put on a sound machine while you work? Silence can be very loud sometimes, but sometimes it can be nice. Do you want sound?” he asks, putting one finger up. “Or silence.” Another finger to make two.

I consider it before signing,What?and putting one finger up.

“What sounds?” he asks. I nod. “Well, the speaker is connected to my phone, so really any sounds you’d like. I can list some that are most popular with other clients, though. Let’s see.” He tilts his body and pulls a phone out of his back pocket. I open the pencil box as he does whatever he needs to do on it, surveying my choices. There’s a mix of colored pencils, markers, and crayons.

“There’s a forest at night, ocean waves, a babbling creek, a waterfall, a thunderstorm, basically all nature sounds.” He tilts his head at me. “You know what? You pick. No reason for us to assign fingers or write the whole list or anything. Here.”

He hands over his phone. The playlist is calledCalm Down. Kind of on the nose, but I guess I’m biased. I’ve been exploring Ace’s iPod more, looking at the other playlists he has on there. Nothing really holds up against playlist names likeFemme Fatale Gone CountryandKeaton’s Taste in Music Sucks.

I don’t know who Keaton is, but I sort of see where Ace is coming from on that one. Keaton’s taste in music is too loud, too furious, too sad. Keaton’s taste in music feels black and brittle.

I hope whoever Keaton is, he doesn’t feel black and brittle. Or, if he does, I hope him knowing Ace makes his life a little brighter. Ace is sunshine, after all. He’s magic.

“We don’t have to listen to anything either, if you don’t want to,” Dr. Singh offers.

I shake my head, focusing on the actual contents of the playlist. I pause on the fourth one down, considering. I’ve always liked rain, but I’m not sure I want thunder - even just pretend thunder - so I skip that one. Two more down, though, is the rainforest. I think the rainforest would be nice.

Actually having to explain to him that I choose the rainforest feels like a lot of work, though, so I take a chance and select the option without explicit permission. I think I trust him enough to tell me if that’s the wrong thing to do.That’s what we’re supposed to be doing here, isn’t it?Building trust, communicating.

He just smiles as the music begins to play, saying, “Rainforest. Good choice,” as he accepts his phone back.

I shrug and duck my head.

He keeps the sound going.

He picks up a battered book of crosswords from the corner of the coffee table, crosses one leg over the other, and grabs the pen from behind his ear. I watch him, waiting for…something.

Except, he’s just… doing the crossword, I think.

Yeah.

Yeah, he’s definitely just doing the crossword.

Okay.

So, I need to draw how I feel.

I try not to think of the feelings chart. I try not to think of words. I try not to really think at all.

How have I been feeling?Emptied, mostly. Sort of blank. I keep feeling like a ghost. Like I’m stuck between being dead and being like the others. I’m not all the way gone, not swallowed up by the darkness yet, but I’m not in the light either. I thought maybe I could be, after helping Nolan with Maison, but that was stupid. That was just pretend.

There are birds in the rainforest noise. They sound happy. Free.

Free, like Carter and Casey.

Free, like Nolan - and probably Bryce - will be soon.