Behind Bars

Third therapist

They didn't stop there. Since it wasn't about religion anymore, it became compulsory—either you joined in, or you weren't allowed in the bars. We had to suck it up and play along.

Shawn was off somewhere doing whatever Shawn did.
The smiles on their faces were honestly beginning to sicken me. I could swear these people thought they were doing us a huge favor by spending their Christmas with a bunch of nobodies.

Most of us were only around waiting to be called into the canteens for the meals.

Tampa didn't experience harsh cold weathers in December but it didn't also sign treaties with the sun so why was I sweating or...?

Was it the sermon from Frank Walter earlier?– I couldn't deny that his words ignited something in me but I still couldn't explain what that something was.

I just needed ten minutes to myself. Ten minutes where I wasn't on guard protecting my head from the balls being kicked by our visitors. They sucked at playing ball.

The only safe and sure way I knew to avoid getting caught was the courtyard.
I could pretend I was heading to the washroom and sneak out.

I slowly push open the back door to the courtyard and my name is called out from behind me. A wave of panic hits and I brace myself, turning slowly to face the officer but a pair of blue eyes, filled with shock and curiosity, does a quick evaluation of me. He is dressed in cargo pants and a shirt from one of the church organization here.

"How do you know my name?" I ask, greatly curious.

“Wow, I can’t believe it’s you.”
He rakes his hand through his hair, staring at me with disbelief.
"It's me, Lucas. Remember? From high school, freshman year. Jerome's..."

"Best friend, I fill in. My eyes widening at that realization. 
Lucas? How? What the... , What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same"

Memories from the past try fighting to appear on the surface but I shove them down still staring in disbelief at the man in front of me.

"What's back there?"
I realize his gaze is fixed on my hand, still wedged between the courtyard door and the wall. 
"Oh, this? I just needed space from you guys. No offense."

He nods.
"Nah, I get it."

"Come on, I say pushing open the door of the courtyard
I don't know if this breaks any rules, but here.",he passes a can of fruit drink from a small bag with him.

"Where did that come from?"

"I always keep one on me."
 
"You’ve always been weird."

I pop open the can, the taste hitting my tongue for the first time in ages. I savor it, taking it in gulps.

"Says you"

I chuckle.

We both sit in silence for a moment, the air heavy with unasked questions.

I finally break the silence.
"So, what are you doing here? Last I heard, you moved away."

Lucas sighs,
"Yeah, I did. Or should I say, my mom and I did. She went for a job interview in another state, expecting it to be handed to her like everything else in her life. When she didn’t get the job, she took her anger out on me, like she always does. You can imagine what that was like."

Yeah, I could.
You see, Lucas' mom grew up with everything handed to her. Pampered, spoiled—'no' wasn’t a word daddy's little princess ever heard. That was until daddy's entire empire crumbled. Unable to handle her new status,she met a guy, fell in love and eloped with him within two weeks. She turned out an alcoholic abuser, just like her lover.
She ended up taking out her frustration and failure in life on Lucas.
Our place was always his getaway and mum... Mum always got concerned each time she saw fresh bruises on him but Lucas' swore to her he'd deny it if she reported it.

"Well one day, it got really bad. One of her boyfriends stayed the night, and he tried...
he tried to have his way with me, and I ended up bashing his head with a lamp stand. My mom didn’t understand why I did that, and she came at me with a broken window and its pane. Ended up dragging my battered body to God knows where, and was rescued by my now-adopted parents.

"That's a lot"

"Yep. Sometimes I wake up and can’t believe this is my life now. I’m finally free."

We sit in silence again, the words hanging in the air as I take another gulp of the drink, trying to process everything he just said.
 
"So, how are you doing?" he asks, breaking the quiet.
 
I shrug. 
"As good as anyone can be in prison."

He turns to me with a serious look.
"No, I mean, how are you really  doing?"
 
I hesitate for a moment, then deflect. 
"So, you moved back to this place?"
 
"Yeah, I’ve always wanted to."

"How do you see the change?"

"Jere...", I wince.

"I visit him all the time. He’s become like my third therapist."

I stare ahead, saying nothing, trying not to let him see how much I'm affected by his words.
 
"I think I should head out. My wife’s probably looking for me."

"You got somebody snatched up? How unlucky she must be."

He smiles softly.
"I’m the lucky one. I don’t know what I’d do without her."

I make a face at him, and he chuckles.

"Lucas... wait."

He turns back, already a few steps away from me.
 
"Did you... did you also forgive her?"

Lucas looks puzzled for a moment. 
"Your mom... did you also forgive her?"

"That question should be, can I forgive her? Because with this—" he points to his mouth, "I say I can. But in here—" he points to his heart, "it’s a difficult journey I’m still undergoing with my first therapist.

He raises a brow at me
"Are you sure you don’t want me to leave my number?"
 
"Get out of here, dude. You already have too many therapists, and I’m no one’s second choice."

He laughs, sending a casual salute my way. As he reaches the door, he turns back, a smile on his face—one that speaks a thousand words without saying anything at all.

"Lucas...?, I call out"

He opens the door but pauses, turning his head slightly.

"Tell your third therapist I said hi."

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Been busy a lot lately but did my best to release a new chapter.

Who do you think Lucas' third therapist is?