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Ms. Herald:
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Greetings, Doctor.
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Dr. Balis:
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Oh, my...
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Ms. Herald:
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Yes, I know it looks awful. You should see the other guy. Before you start freaking out, let me explain.
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Dr. Balis:
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Yes, Chris. Maybe you'd better explain.
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Ms. Herald:
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Okay. So it comes to pass that I go over to hang with my friend Eliza, she wants me to meet her new boyfriend and stuff. She's all nervous, like the kind of jitters you get when you're in high school and the guy you have had a crush on since third grade is coming over for dinner. Well, she's doing something in the kitchen when someone materializes at her door. I go answer, assuming it's her new man, and it turns out to be her old one. Jesus. And I thought Kevin was unbalanced. He demands imperiously to see Liz and I use my massive powers of deduction and figure out who he is. Ta da! I certainly earned my Super Sleuth Decoder ring. Anyway, I tell him to go away. Then I tell him more forcefully to go away. Finally, as he is mumbling mantras about how he must talk to Eliza, I try to close the door in his face. And he forced it back open, wailed something about me trying to keep them apart, and nailed me. Kerboom. I've never been hit before, at least not really. Needless to say, it was a shock.
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Dr. Balis:
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That particular shade of purplish-green is an interesting look for you.
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Ms. Herald:
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Yes, isn't it lovely? I thought it would particularly impress my father when he comes over for dinner tonight. I'm cooking for the old man. It should be interesting.
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Dr. Balis:
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You're jumping subjects again.
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Ms. Herald:
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Sorry. Bad habit. Anyway, I wound up sprawled on the floor of the foyer in utter stupefaction and more than a little pain. He goes thundering towards the kitchen and Eliza. I pick myself up, dust myself off, realize that I am fighting mad and I am damn fucking well not going to put up with some oversized Ken doll tagging me in the eye, ruining my mascara, and messing with my friends on top of it all. So, I manage to lurch into the kitchen where good old Puke has Liz pinned up against the wall and he's shrieking into her face about coming back to him. So, I did the only logical thing I could think of.
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Dr. Balis:
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You called the police and a veterinarian to give your friend's ex a rabies shot.
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Ms. Herald:
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Nope. Chris logic, Doc, not regular logic.
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Dr. Balis:
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I see.
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Ms. Herald:
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I ran and jumped onto his back and proceeded to try and claw his face off, telling him as I did so that if he didn't let Eliza go, I was going to rip off his testicles and feed them to Eliza's kitten. Just as I was finishing up this impressive bit of dialogue, in walks Eliza's new man. Peter, I think his name is. Poor guy.
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Dr. Balis:
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Uh oh.
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Ms. Herald:
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Uh oh is right. But the guy was a trooper. He immediately set about distracting Puke, and Puke let Eliza go. Puke thunders over to pound on Peter, and Eliza faints. I let go of my death grip on Puke and set about trying to rouse Liz back to the waking world and call the cops at the same time. Then, another in a long-line of bizarre coincidences, guess who walks in?
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Dr. Balis:
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Your father. Eliza turns out to be his daughter, too.
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Ms. Herald:
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No, no, no! Have you no vision, man? One of these things is not like the other! Who have I talked about in many many sessions that is in league, well sort of, with the whole situation?
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Dr. Balis:
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That would be Malcolm. Michael. Whatever. Him.
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Ms. Herald:
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Good. Whew, I was afraid I was losing you there for a minute. So Malcolm/Michael takes stock of the situation--Liz passed out, me with an eye the color of an eggplant, and Peter being pounded on, and proceeds to really trounce the dog snot out of Puke. I don't even know what Malcolm was doing there, but at the time I was too relieved to question it at all. Besides, it was a beautiful thing. The cops arrived to see Malcolm holding Puke down, grinding his face into the linoleum. Peter was most likely bleeding internally from all the gut punches, and Liz was still in La La land. So in come the paramedics. And that's my story.
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Dr. Balis:
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That's a very interesting story, Chris.
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Ms. Herald:
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Hey, don't shoot the messenger. The Herald, if you will. Is that a pun in my pocket...
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Dr. Balis:
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So the final score of the afternoon was...
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Ms. Herald:
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Puke got arrested and got slapped with a big old happy restraining order, Peter split after he talked to the cops, Liz recovered, sadder yet wiser, and I am still sporting the mark of a friend's psychotic ex. Case closed.
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Dr. Balis:
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And Malcolm?
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Ms. Herald:
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It was kind of strange, Doc. After all this went down, and Eliza's parents were there and she was in her hospital room more or less patched up, I was left just sort of standing in the lobby with Malcolm. All the adrenaline left my body in one big whoosh, and I started to cry. Made my eye sting. I think I've done more bawling in the last month than in the last five years before that. Anyway, I'm just kind of hanging my head, totally oblivious to everything, and arms come around me. Really tentatively, but there. I guess if I'd been thinking about it, I would have shoved him away. But I wasn't, and for some reason it just felt really good to have him holding me like that. I felt...I don't know. It's hard to explain. It was different than before. But he gave me a ride home, and now I don't know what is going on with him at all. I haven't seen him since Monday when this all happened.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm. And is that because you have just not had the occasion to run into each other, or have you been avoiding him?
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Ms. Herald:
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Well...
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Dr. Balis:
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That's what I thought.
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Ms. Herald:
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Hey, just a few short weeks ago you weren't what I would call a fan of his, Doctor. Now are you trying to tell me that I am doing the wrong thing?
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Dr. Balis:
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No, I'm not. I just think you should probably talk things out with him.
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Ms. Herald:
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Listen, how do I know that this is the real him this time? I don't! He spent so much time lying to everyone because he couldn't face the real world, and now that he's decided to come back from whatever fantasy-land he was living in before, it's all hail the conquering hero, and I'm the wicked woman who's breaking his heart. Well, I have had it with getting my heart broken! And I know that I could genuinely fall in love with him the way he is now, that's what's sick about it. So until I have no doubts that this is yet another masquerade, I don't want to hear any more about it!
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Dr. Balis:
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Okay, Chris. Okay. Sit down. You don't have to shout.
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Ms. Herald:
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I'm sorry.
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Dr. Balis:
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And I would never take his part against you. That isn't even the point.
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Ms. Herald:
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I know. Subject change?
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Dr. Balis:
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If you wish.
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Ms. Herald:
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Let's. Dad's back at home, you might be interested to know.
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Dr. Balis:
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That's good, I suppose.
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Ms. Herald:
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It's the Co-Dependency Show, starring Dad and Joanne. Hey, I haven't told you about Jonny's date, have I?
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Dr. Balis:
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No, but I remember you mentioning it last week. Did it go well?
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Ms. Herald:
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Beautifully. Jonny arranged for Greg to pick him up at my place, all the better to keep in the closet for a bit longer. So Jonny is primping, singing, fretting over what he should wear, and Greg comes in looking darling, and the two speed off in Greg's little Miata. Rich boy, widowed mother who dotes on him. They have a marvelous evening together. I have never heard Jonny so giddy, bless his prissy little button-down collars. The next day, this kid sends Jonny roses at my apartment. Roses, be god! I told Jonny that Greg was probably a keeper if he was getting flowers after the first date. He just blushed and cooed about how wonderful Greg was. Anders and Phillip were hanging around, and Anders gave Phil this really scathing look, saying that he never got any flowers. He went on to inform the room that the last present that Phil had given him was a grill pan for the oven. Phil looked kind of sheepish and said it was a really high-quality grill pan and did all sorts of neat stuff, and Anders said that wasn't the point, and they got into it there in the living room. It was cute.
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Dr. Balis:
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I can imagine.
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Ms. Herald:
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Let's see, what else. Oh, the principal at my new place of employment is a total wacko. He's like something you would see in a kid's TV show, with the image of Principal Nerd being amped out to the point of a parody. Mister Gottleib. He has a lisp like you wouldn't believe, and he has the strangest speech pattern you will ever hear. It rises and falls at totally random intervals. Plus, the guy looks like Pavoratti aged twenty five years and after a long night with the vino. Vivid image, no? He showed me my classroom. It's actually pretty nice. Lots of windows, so I won't get claustrophobic. But there is this teacher in the room down the hall from mine. His name is Aaron Fraiser, and he teaches advanced placement history. There's something weird about him, but he's really nice. I know him from somewhere, I just can't quite put my finger on it.
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Dr. Balis:
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I'm sure it will come to you.
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Ms. Herald:
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Yeah. Oh, hey! I'm moving finally. This weekend, in fact.
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Dr. Balis:
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To where?
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Ms. Herald:
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The condo my aunt owns. Well, I keep calling it a condo, but it's actually more of a duplex...it's hard to explain. Basically it's a really old house that my aunt and a friend of hers really loved, but neither of them could afford on their own. It went up for sale and they went in on it together, making some changes and remodeling the place into basically two halves, bigger than apartments but not quite town-house material. So we always called it a condo. It's so nice. The house is over a hundred years old, with a lot of room, and I'll have an actual bedroom! Hurrah, hurrah! I'll never be able to find my cat again, though. If he decides to speak to me again.
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Dr. Balis:
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Why? Is he angry?
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Ms. Herald:
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The unkindest cut of all...
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Dr. Balis:
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What do you...oh.
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Ms. Herald:
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Yup. It was time.
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Dr. Balis:
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I can understand his resentment, but it will pass.
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Ms. Herald:
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Yeah. Anyway, it's time for me to get out of your face, Doc. See you next week.
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Dr. Balis:
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Did you get your eye looked at by a doctor, by the way?
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Ms. Herald:
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Yeah. You've been looking at it for about an hour now.
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Dr. Balis:
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Cute. Bye.
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###
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Doctor Balis' Notes on this Session
Transcripts of Christina Herald's Communications
