Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes

Chapters 3 and 4

Chapter 3

The bus had been rough at first. High school politics were just as brutal as any grasp for power on Capitol Hill. Alan used to try to find a spot next to someone who then would usually give him a dirty look or tell him that the seat was taken. Now Alan went straight to the back of the bus where everyone left a seat open so they wouldn’t have to sit next to him.

Eyes directed to the floor now, Alan made his way to the rear of the bus. With any luck, he could avoid eye contact with the already sitting passengers he knew were looking him up and down with disgust.

Studying the bus’ black floorboards Alan walked to the back. A snicker met his ears, “Well, the freak decided to show up for the ride. What were you up to last night, weirdo? Playing World of Warcraft on your Xbox?”

Alan’s mouth opened before he could stop himself, “They don’t make World of Warcraft for Xbox; it’s a PC only game. And, no, I was reading.” Alan looked up shocked at his own words. Brent Carson was your typical jock—the letterman jacket, the offensive line position for the school football team and boyfriend to the prettiest girl in school, Jennifer Richardson.

Brent’s face looked just as surprised as Alan’s did at the response. “Whatever, nerd. Get to your seat in the back of the bus before you have an accident.” With a disgusted look he turned to Jennifer, “Don’t worry, I’ll have my license in a few weeks and then we can skip this whole bus thing. We can leave the minions to their public ways of travel.”

Jennifer nodded not saying a word; instead, she gave Alan a look like Tony had. With one look she said she was sorry; not for her boyfriend’s actions, but that she was sorry Alan was such a loser. It was a look that made Alan’s stomach turn.

Alan made it the rest of the way to the rear of the bus without incident, passing cliques of hipsters, jocks and Goths. Slumping into the familiar black seat, Alan let out a sigh. He was facing another day: another day of being alone, of school and of avoiding eye contact. Depression sank deeper, the water soaking into a thirsty sponge. Alan looked out the window at the passing homes left to his own thoughts.

 

Chapter 4

“Alan, how is the medication working?”

Alan was sitting in Dr. Larson’s office in a dark brown leather chair. His hands were in his lap and he was looking around the room in awe. Although he had visited his psychiatrist’s office for months now, Alan still got a sense of joy and wonder when surrounded by so many books. Shelves lined each wall making the doctor’s office look more like a library than a doctor’s office.

“Alan?”

“Oh, sorry. The meds aren’t working. I don’t feel any better.”

“Still depressed?”

Alan let out a sigh, “Yeah, depressed and angry now, too.”

The doctor cocked her head to the side, “Angry? What’s making you angry, Alan?”

“Life. That I can’t kick this feeling of sadness; that it will never go away. I hate not being able to do anything to feel better.”

The doctor nodded scribbling notes on a pad she held just close enough to keep Alan from seeing. “These feelings of depression, are they rooted anywhere specifically?”

“Everywhere. The only time I feel like I can get away is when I lose myself in a book.”

The doctor grinned, “Which book are you reading now?”