Alpine

Gambit 3 - Fuse (2/2)

Once he was sure I was following him, he continued. "While they were bouncing me around in foster care, they were also shopping for my psychologist. Each one tried to treat me for trauma or something. I didn't need it. I had the upper hand in the legal situation. That was all I wanted. So, I started playing games with them.

"Miraculous breakthroughs, horrific relapses, finding religion, losing religion, sudden demonic possessions. It was all great fun until I met the asshole who actually read my file and understood it. All of it.

"She didn't start our first session by asking how I was, what was going on with me, or why did I think I was there. There was chalkboard in her office. She outlined the things I had done. Put them into categories. Diagnosed me. 'Anti-social Personality Disorder,' she said. A silly name given that I happen to rather like people. I was as unimpressed with her boxes and terms as any teen would be, but her next words caught my attention.

"'There's no treating you. There's nothing wrong with you.'

"She was right, of course, but to hear a shrink say it? Calling me royally confused would be an understatement. I nodded in agreement by accident.

"She continued: 'I want you to consider this though.' She walked up to me. Even though it was midsummer, I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt. I'm not sure if that's what gave me away or it if was in my file. She yanked one of the sleeves far enough to reveal the cuts I had made the night before. My scars are my property to be shown on my terms. I shoved her back, sending her to the ground, before ripping the sleeve back down. From the floor she said, 'If you truly believe that you're in control, then why are you doing that to yourself?'

"I'm not sure I had ever been so angry in my entire life. I stomped over to her desk, hoping to find a penknife, or a letter opener, or anything sharp really. I just needed something to hurt her. To cut her open with. She said, 'You have two choices here. The wrong choice is that you quit. You'll come to my sessions and act out and waste our time. You're not my first rodeo and won't be my last. I can handle you until you get too old for the system. After that, you'll probably find yourself in jail, because you can't function in society.'

"'And what's the other option? Let god into my heart?'

"She laughed. 'Learn how to play the game, hun. You'll stay out of trouble. You'll get all the things you want. You'll stop feeling like the only way to be in control is to mangle yourself.'

"It only took me a few weeks to come around. The way she manipulated her superiors was art. They effortlessly swallowed her egregious lies. And she did it without a single hitch. No repercussions. No punishments. All the rewards gained with such little effort. I'll admit it; I was envious. The thing was, I hated the idea of asking her to tell me how she worked her magic.

"One day, I finally caved and asked, 'What do you get out of helping me?' And you know what she said? 'A guaranteed, six-figure salary, because no one else gets results out of you dumbasses.' I laughed my head off. I started listening to her after that. Once she taught me the rules, everything started falling into place. You know how well I turned out."

The flashlight went dark. He shook it, and, for a moment, there was one last glimmer of light. After that, no amount of shaking or tapping on the end would bring it back to life. I could barely see him now. He tossed the flashlight aside and motioned for me to stop walking. Wordlessly, he sat down on the disk sled. Unzipped my duffle bag and pulled out a pack of Crossroads. Opened it. Lit one. The flash of the lighter's orange flame illuminated his face like a jack-o-lantern.

The glowing end of the cigarette quivered as he breathed through it. "Are you going to ask?"

"About what?"