“You’ll figure it out when the time is right,” Marion said. “Mine was science. I loved science. And math.”
“We would have been at opposite wings of the school. Never would have met.”
“You’re probably right. Okay. You ask me something.”
“Like your favourite colour or something?”
“If that’s what you want to know. It’s more interesting if you ask a question that needs more than one word to answer.”
“I get it.” She hesitated. “What is the scariest thing that happened to you when you were little?”
That was an interesting first question, Marion thought, automatically shifting to her psychiatrist role. But the rules of the game were that she had to answer first. It took a second to come up with her answer, then it came rushing back.
“I was six. My family and I were visiting a friend’s cottage in Muskoka, and my sister and I borrowed the canoe without asking. We shouldn’t have. We were far too little to be out there on our own. A motorboat went by really fast, and our canoe got caught up in the wake. I must have panicked, because I stood up, and suddenly I was in the water.”
She paused, feeling a familiar tightness in her chest. “Pat tried to pull me out, but neither of us knew how to swim, and she couldn’t reach me from the canoe without falling in herself. It drifted farther and farther away from shore, and all I remember is that when I screamed I kept swallowing lake water.”
“Whoa!”
“Thinking back now, there were lots of adults around, so they pulled me out right away, but it felt like forever at the time—”
“No, man! You can’t think about it from the perspective of now. We’re talking about when we were kids. That’s some heavy stuff, Marion.”
“I’ve never swum since.”
“Unreal. Good thing there were folks around.”
“I was very lucky.” She exhaled, surprised by how that memory still made her heart race. “Your turn.”
At first, Sassy didn’t answer. When she did, there was a colder tone to her voice. “I think I was, like, seven. My dad had taken Joey to a baseball game. Joey’s my brother, by the way. I was home with my nanny, and she was super pregnant. We were playing hide-and-seek, and she was ‘it’. I hid in my dad’s closet under all his coats and sweaters.” She paused. “I can still smell that wool. Anyway, she couldn’t find me for what felt like a real long time, and then she shouted that she had to leave. Thinking back now, I know it was because she went into labour with her son, but back then I didn’t know where she’d gone. At first I was ticked off, because she wasn’t trying to find me. But then I couldn’t get out of the closet. I can’t remember if it was locked or just stuck, but I was little, and I couldn’t open the door. I banged on it and yelled until I lost my voice, but no one came. You know how kids have no understanding of time passing? It felt like my dad was gone forever.” Her breath sounded shaky. “Yeah. That’s my scariest moment.”
“But he came home eventually,” Marion reminded her gently.
“My little brother, Joey. He found me.”
“Sassy, do you understand that your childhood memory led to your claustrophobia?”
“Uh… huh. I guess you’re right. Never thought about that before.”
“I have a little trick for you to try. It won’t work all at once, but I think it might help over time. When you feel scared like that, like you might be right now, I want you to force yourself to remember the moment that your brother opened the door. It must have felt so good, seeing him and breathing in that fresh air.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Can you try that?”
“Right now?”
“Yes. Think of the elevator door as the closet door in your memory. Now imagine that moment when he found you, and the relief you felt.”
When Sassy spoke again, her voice was a little calmer. “Far out. How did you know that?”
“I’m a psychiatrist. It’s my job to know things like that.”
“A lady shrink! That’s outta sight.” Sassy chuckled. “When I’m feeling looney, I’ll come see you.”
“Actually, we don’t say ‘looney’ or ‘lunatic’ anymore,” Marion said. “Technically, patients can be diagnosed as insane, but we specify the particular illness to avoid a negative connotation.”
When Sassy didn’t respond, Marion continued. “What I mean is that we try not to use stereotypes like ‘looney’ or ‘crazy.’?”
