Extracted - Chapter 21 – Out of Sorts – Part 1 of 2

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 21 – Out of Sorts – Part 1 of 2

 

Stephen was getting ready to go downstairs for breakfast, when his new father showed up in his room.

“Steve?”

“Yeah Dad?”

“You okay after our little talk last night?”

“Yeah.  Of course.”

“Good.  Any more problem with…”

“You mean Mister Gross?”

Henry chuckled.  “So no problems?”  He noticed Stephen just looking at him, but not saying anything.  “Steve?”

“Can we not talk about this Dad,” Stephen asked.

“That’s fine,” Henry replied, stifling another chuckle.  “I wanted to talk to you about something though, but last night’s little chat just didn’t make it the time.”

“What’s that?” Stephen asked.

“Your body.”

“My body?”  Stephen sighed.  “What now?  More problems like Mister Gross?”

“No.  Nothing like that.  What I wanted to talk to you about is exercise.”

“Exercise?”

“Yes!  Steve, look.  The old you worked out constantly to build up that body of yours.  In fact, he probably worked out too much.  But he had a goal, and I’d say he pretty much met that goal, all so that he could play football and be the best at it.  He wanted to play football in college, maybe even in the pros.”

“I hate football, remember?” Stephen told him.

“I know, and I’m not suggesting you should play football, although nothing would make me happier right now, even though I don’t see any way in the world you can play.  Not as things stand now.”

“So?” Stephen asked.

“So what I’m trying to get to, is that I really don’t want to see you neglect that body you’ve got.  You don’t have to go to the point where you…I mean the other you, went with it, but I at least want you to get some exercise.”

“Exercise?  Like what?”

“Whatever you want.  Stephen ran every morning, and he lifted weights all day.  I think whenever he was in this room he lifted weights.  I’ve even seen him holding his phone in one hand while he talked, but his other hand was busy lifting the weights.  He was always working out one way or another.  You certainly don’t have to go to that extreme, but please, just exercise.  Work out a bit.  Keep yourself in good shape.  Steve, whether you know it or not, that’s important.  And who knows, maybe it will help the depression you seem to live in.”

Steve considered it, then shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know anything about working out.  I used to dance all the time, but in this body, it’s not going to work at all.  I’m only twelve and I know that much.”

Henry was about to point out that he wasn’t twelve, he was seventeen, but he stopped himself.  Unfortunately, this new son that he was stuck with was only twelve – mentally.  Another idea struck him.  “Steve,” he said.  “You and…the real Stephen seemed to get along pretty good at that resort.”

“I guess so,” Stephen admitted.  “How else should we have been?”

“I don’t know,” Henry admitted, not wanting to go into the possibilities.  “But if you don’t do it for me, or even for yourself, maybe you can do it for him.  For that Stephen, the original person who had your body, and who took such good care of it.  I mean, face it Steve, you’re not only healthy, but you look…well, fairly incredible.  You already know the girls are all in love with you.”

“Yeah, and look what Melody did to me.”

“Yes, and look what she awakened in you.”

Steve rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, Mister Gross getting grosser all the time.  Okay.  I’ll try to figure out some way to exercise.”

“Good.  Let me know if I can help.”

Steve looked at all the weights on their racks in his room.  “I don’t really want those darn things in my room.  They’re ugly and they take up too much space.  And I can tell you right now that I’m not going to be lifting them all the time like he did.  Is there some place I can put them that’s not in here?”

“You can move them to the basement if you want.  That’s where your mother wanted them in the first place.”

“The basement?  I haven’t even been there yet.”

“Huh!” Henry grunted.  “Trust me, you’re not missing anything.  Carry them down there if you want.  Your mother will be happy.”

“Me?  Carry all them?”

“You’re the strongest one in the house.  Besides, what else do you have to do today?”

Stephen sighed.  “Maybe that can be my exercise for the day.”

“Sounds perfect,” Henry agreed.  “Now I’ve got to go to work.  See you later.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

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Nancy was so sick of brushing her hair.  Not to mention, her entire body seemed to feel a bit sick today.  Her stomach was bothering her, and it had been since she woke up.  Breakfast hadn’t helped it at all, even though she had hoped it would.  And now, once again, she was spending an absolute eternity brushing her hair.  She had miles of useless hair!  Her stupid new mother made her do it every morning and every night before bed.  But it was worse on days like today when they were getting ready to go out.  She didn’t want to go anywhere, especially not when she wasn’t feeling good.

They were going back to see that psychiatrist again, Doctor Montcliff.  She didn’t mind Doctor Montcliff, she just didn’t see any use in what they talked about.  Actually, she didn’t see any use in talking about anything.  Talking never did any good at all.

Her mother walked into the room, all dressed to go.  “Okay,” she said.  “Hair all brushed?”

“Overly!” Nancy complained.

“Then let’s see what we can do with it today.  And Nance, it’s time you learned to start styling your own hair now.  It’s not difficult.”

“Maybe for you,” Nancy replied as she sat still with her back turned to her mother.  “Mom, I’m not feeling so good today.  Maybe we shouldn’t go.”

“Tough!  You’re not getting out of this!” Wanda told her.  “You need to see her.”

“For what?”

“To help you.”

“She’s not helping anything,” Nancy complained.

“You’ve barely started with her.  You’ve got to give it time.  Now, what dress do you want to wear today, and then we can pick out a pretty necklace to go with it.”

“Dress?  Do I have to?”

“Yes!  Now pick something.  We need to get moving.”

Forty-five minutes later, Nancy and her new mother entered the building where Doctor Montcliff had her office.  Sooner than she was happy about, Nancy walked in to speak with the doctor.

“Hi Nancy,” Isabelle Montcliff greeted her brightly.  “How are you today?”

“Sick!” Nancy told her.

“Sick?”

“Sick in the head and sick in my stomach.”

“Oh?” Montcliff replied, not sure what to make of all that.  She decided to move on.  “The last time we spoke, I suggested that maybe you should look around and try to find something that interests you.  Any luck?”

“Luck?  Instead of finding anything interesting, I found a few things that interest me even less than I figured they would.”

“Oh?  Like what?”

“Ballet!”

“Ballet?  When did you try ballet?”

“Mom, out there, signed me up for private lessons.  She’s insisting that I learn.”

“I don’t see why that’s such a bad thing,” Montcliff told her.

“And I don’t see how it’s a good thing either,” Nancy countered.

“Maybe you just need to give it a bit of time.  Be patient.  Who knows, you very well might come to like it.”

“Doctor, you do remember that I’m a boy inside this little body.”

“So?  What’s that got to do with it?  It’s no reason why you can’t like and appreciate something like ballet.”

“It is to me.”

Montcliff decided to drop it.  “Let’s try something,” she said.  “Tell me something that you really hate about this new life that you have.”

“You mean besides ballet?”

“Yes.  Besides ballet.”

“That’s easy.  Hair.”

“Hair?”

“I feel like I spend all day doing nothing but brushing it or messing with it in some way.  It’s always there.  It’s always in my way.  If I turn my head, it moves.  If I walk anywhere, it keeps moving.  If I do anything at all, it’s always moving and brushing me on the back, or my shoulders, or just getting in my way.  I’d love to cut it all off, but Mom out there, won’t let me.”

“You do have beautiful hair Nancy,” Montcliff told her.

“That’s because Mom makes me brush it so much.  Enough that it should be thoroughly dead by now.”

Montcliff chuckled.  “You seem a bit out of sorts today,” she noted.

“Me?  Oh no.  I’m fine.  Fine enough to have to wear this dumb dress even though I hate dresses.  Fine enough to have Mom fix my hair special instead of just pulling it back in a ponytail.  And fine enough to come here, even though I don’t want to.”

“You keep emphasizing the word Mom every time you use it.”

“So?”

“So what’s your problem with her?”

Nancy shook her head.  “Nothing.  She’s fine.  It’s just…life in general.”

“And ballet.”

“Especially ballet!”

Montcliff nodded again.  “Out of sorts.”

 

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