The Journal of Beatrice Grace Parker

Oh, Theo!

“Ummm, Dr. Russell? I’m done writing. But I need some help from you. Exactly what am I supposed to have done to Theo?” I was putting it bluntly. But hey, I’m his patient. He knows me enough to cut me some slack for sounding insensitive.

“He’s a changed man, dear. Because of you. I finally have a smiling young lad back at home. He’s never been the same since we lost Alice… you know, his mother, Mrs. Russell. She died in a car-accident. But he was right beside her. He’s always blamed himself about it. I think it is survivor’s guilt. He hates himself for surviving when she didn’t. He’d always scowl and pretend to be cool in the public, but never making friends, never talking to anyone about anything personal. He was my biggest failure as a father and as a Psychiatrist. It was never his fault. But I couldn’t help being disappointed. That my own son wouldn’t be free enough with me. That he wouldn’t respond to my treatment. I was the failure, not him. But I kept blaming him till we drifted more and more apart. Then we finally made a pact that we would tolerate each other. That he would come to meet me at this clinic once every week, as a patient, and not as my son. That I would only see him that once, and I would let him live life his way. I would not interfere. So we continued. The only thing he did improve at was basketball. He got into the team. I couldn’t even go and tell him how proud I was of my son.” Dr. Russell was teary-eyed at this point. But he continued anyway “you’ve got me back my son, Beatrice Grace Parker. I’m forever indebted to you. I don’t know how you did it. But last week, when you’d gone, it was Theodore’s session after you. For the first time he asked me about the girl who’d gone out before him. He seemed interested despite himself. Outside, he’d learnt to act all cool and charming, but he was a total wreck on the inside. I knew enough about him to see how hard he tried to act normal when he was around people his age. And I couldn’t help him. That was eating me from within. After you came along, he’s suddenly done an about-turn. He’s stopped scowling at me. He’s stopped flirting with Gloria, poor girl put up with him so long because she knew him before Alice left us. He even spoke to me, if only to ask about you. He asked me when I would have my next session with you. If anything has broken through his armour of pretence, it is you. I can only ask of you as a Father, and as your friend, to please stick with my boy if you can.” A long silence followed as I tried to swallow everything he said.

Theo needed me. It would have sounded funny if Dr. Russell hadn’t explained everything in so much detail. Too much detail for me to not believe it. I could see how Theo avoided talking about his family. I could see why he’d picked up my journal in the first place. If he’d had such estranged relations with his dad, only then he would have had to resort to something like reading his father’s diary just to know what his father felt about him. I suddenly felt lucky to have Mom. She was always there for me, so supportive and understanding. She never sounded bitter about my Father leaving us. I hardly knew him. I had taken up my Mom’s surname, and it suited me fine. But I couldn’t imagine being in Theo’s place. Alone. Pretending all the time to be normal. With no mother to keep him going, and with a father who thought of him as a failed case. To keep calling him 'Dad' in public and to keep ignoring him in reality. With him blaming himself for surviving when his mother died. I had my own guilt over Voldemort’s death, but I could make out that Theo was suffering in a different class of hell. And still he managed to be such a comforting presence for me.

“He loves you, Dr. Russell.” I said.

“I love him too. But I have wronged him. I don’t know how to look him in the eye, after calling him a loser all through the time when he needed me the most.” Dr. Russell was burdened with the guilt he’d carried for so long. I held out a finger. Wait please, Dr. Russell. I have to get this down verbatim. Because it is the only way Theo’s going to believe you now. I feel like the Psychiatrist now. Taking down everything that Dr. Russell is spilling. It makes me see things in a different light. I thought I needed Theo. But now it seems that he needs me too. I am feeling good. I like to be needed. He is my friend. I’ll help him sort this out. Even if he hates me for it afterward. Of course it’d hurt like hell if he hates me afterwards. But I can’t let him hate himself over and over. That must hurt worse. I can’t even imagine how much.

I’m sure Theo is going to hate me for this. All he’s done is to be a good friend. He’s helped me come to terms with myself. To learn to accept my condition and to live with it normally. And now I’m going to repay his kindness by thrusting all this at him. By letting him read my journal. This is the only way he’ll be able to see the truth that his Dad couldn’t bring himself to tell him to the face.

Dr. Russell is quiet. He is watching me write it all down.

I looked up, through my lashes just now, and he gave me a weak smile. “So you see, we shrinks have our own share of worries.” He said, laughing mirthlessly and half-heartedly at his own pathetic joke. I was angry. If he just called himself a shrink, things were bad. Worse than I’d imagined.

“I’ll be taking my own fee, Dr. Russell” I said, suddenly, disgusted by this man. This man who pretends to be psychiatrist and has never been able to be a good father to his son. I am probably getting judgemental, but I don’t care. I know he’s looking for forgiveness, but I really don’t have any to spare. I have finished writing now, and will be marching out as soon as I shut this journal.