Paralyzed by Jeff Rud

Author:Jeff Rud
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV000000
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2008-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

chapter ten

The disappointing way that the Franklin game had ended bothered me, but not as much as the other news hanging over me all weekend. Dad had delivered it casually on Saturday morning.

“You’ll have to miss some school Monday morning,” he said. “Dr. MacIntyre’s office called today. It’s great he can see you so soon.”

Yeah, great, I thought. On Monday, some-one was going to start dissecting my brain.

All weekend, I thought about little else. What kinds of questions was he going to ask me? Would he hypnotize me like some of those quacks on TV? I wasn’t feeling too comfortable about it at all.

Dad must have sensed my mood at dinner Sunday night. After we had all cleaned up, he asked me if I wanted to shoot a few hoops down at Tipton Park.

We’d been shooting for just a couple of minutes when Dad grabbed the ball and put it on his hip. “Are you nervous about seeing Dr. MacIntyre?” he asked.

“I guess. Were you nervous when you asked for help?”

“I wasn’t so much nervous as I was a total wreck,” Dad said. “But I’ll tell you, after talking about it with somebody once, I felt a hundred percent better.

“Just go in there with an open mind,” he continued. “He’s not going to be performing weird experiments on you or anything like that. You’re going to be talking, like we are now.”

I hoped he was right. I went to sleep that night stewing about my appointment, but the next morning, I felt a little better. I figured if Dad could do it, so could I.

Mom drove me to the Gower Medical Center where Dr. MacIntyre had his office. It was about twenty minutes from home and right beside Gower General. She dropped me off there before heading to work. After my appointment, I planned to take a city bus to school. If everything went according to plan, I might be able to get to Lincoln for third-period math. Oh joy.

As I walked toward the clinic entrance, I stared up at the third floor of Gower General, wondering which room Nate Brown was in. I tried to push the thought out of my mind as I headed through the glass doors and reported to the receptionist.

I’d only been waiting for about three minutes when an athletic-looking man in his forties with sandy brown hair came into the waiting area. He smiled at me. “Reggie,” he said. “Come on in.”

We shook hands at the doorway. “I’m Reggie Scott,” I said. “But I guess you knew that already.”

“Middle linebacker for Lincoln, right?” the psychologist replied. “You’re quite a player.”

“Thanks, Dr. MacIntyre,” I said. “But not so much lately.”

Dr. MacIntyre ignored my last comment and smiled. “You can just call me Jim,” he said. “We like to keep things informal around here.”

As I stepped into the room, I couldn’t help but notice that it looked more like a sports hall of fame than my idea of a psychologist’s office. There wasn’t a couch or anything even remotely medical.

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