We were all busy and we bleshed.
I sat up on the couch suddenly.
Stern said, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter. This isn’t getting me any place.”
“You said that when you’d barely started. Do you think you’ve accomplished anything since then?”
“Oh, yeah, but—”
“Then how can you be sure you’re right this time?” When I didn’t say anything, he asked me, “Didn’t you like this last stretch?”
I said angrily, “I didn’t like or not like. It didn’t mean nothing. It was just—just talk.”
“So what was the difference between this last session and what happened before?”
“My gosh, plenty! The first one, I felt everything. It was all really happening to me. But this time—nothing.”
“Why do you suppose that was?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“Suppose,” he said thoughtfully, “that there was some episode so unpleasant to you that you wouldn’t dare relive it.”
“Unpleasant? You think freezing to death isn’t unpleasant?”
“There are all kinds of unpleasantness. Sometimes the very thing you’re looking for—the thing that’ll clear up your trouble—is so revolting to you that you won’t go near it. Or you try to hide it. Wait,” he said suddenly, “maybe ‘revolting’ and ‘unpleasant’ are inaccurate words to use. It might be something very desirable to you. It’s just that you don’t want to get straightened out.”
“I want to get straightened out.”
He waited as if he had to clear something up in his mind, and then said, “There’s something in that ‘Baby is three’ phrase that bounces you away. Why is that?”
“Damn if I know.”
“Who said it?”
“I dunno…uh…”
He grinned. “Uh?”
I grinned back at him. “I said it.”
“Okay. When?”
I quit grinning.
He leaned forward, then got up.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“I didn’t think anyone could be that mad.” I didn’t say anything. He went over to his desk. “You don’t want to go on any more, do you?”
“No.”
“Suppose I told you you want to quit because you’re right on the very edge of finding out what you want to know?”
“Why don’t you tell me and see what I do?”
He just shook his head. “I’m not telling you anything. Go on, leave if you want to. I’ll give you back your change.”
“How many people quit just when they’re on top of the answer?”
“Quite a few.”
“Well, I ain’t going to.” I lay down.
He didn’t laugh and he didn’t say, “Good,” and he didn’t make any fuss about it. He just picked up his phone and said, “Cancel everything for this afternoon,” and went back to his chair, up there out of my sight.
It was very quiet in there. He had the place soundproofed.
I said, “Why do you suppose Lone let me live there so long when I couldn’t do any of the things that the other kids could?”
“Maybe you could.”
“Oh, no,” I said positively. “I used to try. I was strong for a kid my age and I knew how to keep my mouth shut, but aside from those two things I don’t think I was any different from any kid. I don’t think I’m any different right now, except what difference there might be from living with Lone and his bunch.”
“Has this anything to do with ‘Baby is three’?”
