Don't Make Me Smile by Barbara Park

Author:Barbara Park [Park, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-79703-2
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2011-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

DR. HENRY T. GIRARD

Child Psychologist

A shrink? Oh no. Not a shrink! I couldn’t believe he’d brought me here.

“Why, Dad? Why did you do this? What a sneaky trick!” I said.

I started to back up, but my father grabbed me by the arm.

“Just talk to him one time, Charlie. That’s all I’m asking,” he said. “He can help you feel better. I know he can. If you don’t want to come back after today, you won’t have to.”

Quickly, he pushed open the door. The secretary at the desk looked up and smiled.

“Good morning, Mr. Hickle,” she said cheerfully. “This must be Charles.”

My father nodded. “Is Dr. Girard ready to see him?”

“Yes. He can go right in,” she said. She pointed to a door across the room.

Dad knocked twice, opened the door, and gave me a nudge. “I’ll be out here if you need me,” he said.

Dr. Girard was sitting at his desk. He wasn’t very old for a doctor. When he stood up to greet me, I could see that he was wearing faded jeans and a sweater. I don’t know why, but that really surprised me. I didn’t think doctors were allowed to wear jeans to work.

“Hi, Charlie,” he said, smiling. “I’m Henry Girard.”

I didn’t smile back. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even say hello. I just sort of stood there feeling like a fool. I still couldn’t believe that I was talking to a child psychologist. It made me feel all weird inside. Like I was a nutcase or something.

“Please, sit down,” said Dr. Girard.

I sat.

He sat, too.

“Do you know why your father brought you here today?” he asked.

“Not unless you serve pancakes,” I said. “I thought he was taking me out to breakfast.”

Dr. Girard laughed. “Sorry,” he said. “But I have a hard time just making cereal.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” I told him.

“Oh, believe me, Charlie,” he said. “There’s nothing here to be afraid of. Your dad just brought you here because he knows that you’re really unhappy right now. And he’s hoping that maybe I can help.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I had never been a nutcase before.

Dr. Girard sat down in his chair. “So do you want to tell me what’s going on at home?” he asked.

“No, not really,” I said.

I wasn’t trying to be rude. It just felt weird talking to some strange man I didn’t even know. I mean, all your life your parents go around telling you not to talk to strangers. Then all of a sudden, they decide to get a divorce, and boom … they dump you in some strange guy’s office and they expect you to spill your guts out.

I looked around some more. “Where’s the couch?” I said. “Aren’t crazy people supposed to lie down on a couch when they talk to you?”

Dr. Girard laughed again. “Well, I don’t get many ‘crazy’ people in this office,” he said. “But you’re not the only one who thinks that you have to be ‘crazy’ to come here.

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