My hand shushes Achi before she goes further into psych mode. “Did you just say youheardPa?”
“I didn’t technically hear Pa, Nika. It was an auditory hallucination.”
If my sister can hear Pa’s voice, too, does that mean…
Oh my god. Our plan is still working.
“Achi, something happened during Pa’s death anniversary.”
She doesn’t comment the whole time I recap the last few weeks. She doesn’t say anything when I tell her about Pa appearing at our condo, re-creating our parents’ high school love story, even when I tell her he was up onstage with me during the Battle of the Bands performance.
By the time I’m done, all she does is take out her phone.
“Ach?”
She’s typing.
“Did you hear me?”
She’s dialing.
“Do you know someone who’s had experience with spirits?”
“Hi, Doktora,” she says once the other line picks up. “So sorry to bother you, but I wanted to inquire if my sister and I can drop by to inquire about counseling?”
What? Counseling?! We need to figure out our ghost father situation, not counseling!
“Oh great, yes. We can pass by the clinic now. Thanks so much for squeezing us in.”
“We don’t need to be squeezed in!” I hiss at her, but my sister already has a death grip on my hand. She adjusts the sunglasses on her face before dragging the both of us to some counselor’s clinic.
27
Please list any possible reasons for underlying distress.
I write below in all caps,MY SISTER.
If there was more space on the form, I would’ve expounded on how she’s holding me hostage at this clinic. Even after waiting for an hour (for the record: That means my sister has wasted two hours of my time today), Achi insists that we stay put so we can interrupt a therapist’s very busy schedule. Dr. Broso was apparently Achi’s advisor when she was in college so we’re disrupting the schedule of a therapistandprofessor.
When the receptionist handed me a clipboard with a health evaluation form to fill out, my sister lingered at her desk to bug her about Dr. Broso’s availability—and she still hasn’t left the obviously busy receptionist alone. It’s a miracle my sister can see anything with her sunglasses that cover half her face.
Once the receptionist has had enough of her, Achi returns to her seat next to me in the waiting area and tells me I’m next in the queue. My eyes stay glued to the clipboard on my lap—becauseI’vehad enough of her too.
My sister annoyingly doesn’t get the hint.
“What’s on your mind?” she asks.
“That I really want pancit canton right now.”
Achi scowls. “Nika, we’re next to a diabetes center. Do you know how many people get treatment there from eating the stuff they put in instant noodles?”
I place the clipboard in front of my face, blocking my sister from my sight and mind.
She still doesn’t shut up. “Hallucinations can happen when the brain is having trouble processing loss.”
“I’m not hallucinating,” I say through my teeth.
“There was one time I thought I saw Pa at the bakery, and it turned out to be Father Melvin.”
