The corridor widened. Blue returned overhead. A little satisfaction moved through me.
“Good,” the doctor said.
That made me feel good. I hated that. Still, I kept going, but slowly this time. At each intersection, I stopped and looked up before moving. Blue meant right. Cloudy meant wrong. If the path narrowed, I backed out before it trapped me. If it widened, I followed. The exercise became harder after that, but it was almost fun.
The panels moved around me like the maze was alive, testing me, trying to trick me, but I was figuring it out. The doctor offered less guidance as I improved. When he did speak, it was never too much.
“What changed?”
“Ceiling.”
“What else?”
“Path got wider.”
“What did you do before choosing?”
I thought for a minute. “Stopped and looked.”
“Exactly.”
Progress. Damn… there was that feeling again. I didn't like someone controlling my emotions like that.
I reached a wider corridor where the ceiling showed a bright blue sky from end to end. The path opened so far, I could stretch both arms without touching either side. Ahead, I saw the light again. It was brighter now. Had to be the exit. My heartbeat picked up.
For a second, I imagined walking out of here and seeing approval on the doctor’s face. Maybe he would write a report. Maybe somebody important would read it and see I was not what they thought. Maybe my aunt Marguerite would hear I was doing better. Maybe my mama would stop crying and looking disappointed every time we were alone.
Maybe Theory?—
I killed that thought immediately. Theory was ungrateful. That was just the truth. I had loved her too hard, wanted too much. And maybe Ihadheld too tight. But she made me that way. She was all softness and cute attitude, all bright eyes and thick curves and smart little comments. She knew what she was doing. She knew how a woman like her could make a man like me crazy. We were okay, til she started thinking she was better than me. Til she thought?—
“Chauncey.”
I blinked. The ceiling above me was cloudy. The path narrowed while I stood there thinking.
“Damn,” I muttered, stepping back quickly.
“Where did you go?”
“What?”
“You left the exercise. Mentally.”
I swallowed my irritation. “I was thinking.”
“About?”
I hesitated. The doctor waited. Sometimes, I hated when he did that.
“Nothing important,” I said finally.
“Most things we call unimportant are things we don't want to talk about.”
I kissed my teeth. “You know, sometimes you sound like a fortune cookie?”
A low laugh came over the intercom. “Sometimes.”
I smiled reluctantly. The path widened again as blue returned overhead. I walked on.
