Being Wrong | ✓

Part 22

Charlie's grandpa got in the driver's seat and his grandma got in the passenger seat and where was Travis? The car started. Travis wasn't there. Where was Travis? Not here.

"Travis is taking the bus home," Charlie's grandpa explained as he navigated through the underground parking lot.

Why? Was he angry at Charlie? Did his grandparents make Travis take the bus? Did Travis have bus money? Did he definitely know how to get the bus home from here?

They emerged out from beneath the building and a shaft of sunlight assaulted Charlie's eyes. He kicked that back of the seat in front of him.

"Charlie!" Charlie's grandma scolded, which was fair. She was sitting in that seat. He did it again and he didn't know why.

Everything was bad and would never be better. Charlie was bad and would never be better. They'd done the thing that was supposed to make things better and now everything was worse, everyone was angry and he'd kicked Travis and now Travis was taking the bus home and Charlie's brain felt very very bad and much too intense. He kicked the seat again.

"Charlie, stop it!" his grandma said and it felt bad but he kicked the seat again anyway. Words were impossible and now he was crying and making an annoying fuss was the only way he could think of to try to express himself. He didn't even know what he was trying to communicate.

Charlie's grandpa pulled over. The only sound in the car was Charlie crying. He felt exposed and childish and absolutely terrible.

Charlie's grandpa sighed. "Well, I felt like a responsible adult who was handling things well for about two minutes there."

"Just tell us what you're so upset about and we'll help you," Charlie's grandma said, her voice weak and helpless.

It was one of the most considerate things she'd ever said to him, and it was absolutely useless. Charlie couldn't just tell them. He squirmed in frustration and bit his hand.

"Is it about Travis?" Charlie's grandpa asked.

And many more things, but mostly Travis. Travis was the important part. Charlie nodded. He could do nodding.

"I told him to take the bus home so you could both settle down a little," Charlie's grandpa explained. "Guess it didn't help you settle down at all, though."

But did he have bus money? It was a long way home and it was hot and what if he got lost? Charlie made a whining sound in the back of his throat.

"Look, how about we call him? Do you have your phone?"

Charlie did have his phone. He handed it to his grandpa. Hopefully Travis had his...

#

Travis did not have money for the bus, but he didn't care. A couple of hours walking would give him time to think, even if so far he'd mostly just used that thinking time to further beat himself up over all of this.

If he could just find a definitive point a failure, the exact moment things had gone down the wrong path, he'd feel a lot better. Maybe then he could stop running everything that had happened through his head over and over.

He probably should have given the psychiatrist more of a chance. He'd wanted to avoid Charlie getting too upset, but, well... he had dramatically failed at that anyway. Maybe things would have gone better if he hadn't pulled Charlie out early.

Or maybe they just would have failed in a different way. Maybe there had been no way to resolve the situation that wouldn't have been hell on all of them.