“So?” she said, breaking our trance. “How is everything going up there?”
I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts enough to know where to start. “Pretty good, so far.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asked right away.
I nodded my head, not quite believing what I had just said for some reason, but wanting to only report good things so she wouldn’t worry about me. “Yeah.”
“Mm hm,” she mumbled famously.
My smile dissolved and I felt vulnerable all of a sudden. I didn’t understand what was happening; I was so excited to see Theory on the hike here, but now that I was sitting in front of her, I felt scared and ashamed. What was going on?
“Tell me about the others,” she offered as a starting point.
That question should have been easy enough to answer, but it instantly overwhelmed me. Should I tell her about the argument between Mikayla and Rishawn? Or how Dodger seemed to be a great leader in front of the group, but felt less close to me now that other people were around? Maybe I should just confess to missing her and ask if I could come back home. But then, what would the others do without me if I left them at camp all by themselves? Did they really need me? What was I doing out there, anyway?
My eyes darted toward the clock resting on the table and suddenly I panicked about only having a limited amount of time to tell her everything. My heart started racing and I wondered if it was a mistake to come here at all. Maybe it would be quicker just to lie and say that everything was going okay.
“Sam,” Theory said, cracking through the walls I was rapidly building. “Where did you go?”
I rubbed my forehead. “I’m here, sorry. I guess everything’s okay.”
“You guess? Hm. Well, if you were to use one word to describe what this last week has been like, which would you use?”
I didn’t have to think about it. The words had been floating on the tip of my tongue since I sat down. “Confusing.”
Theory’s face washed over with concern. “Okay, that’s okay. We have some time. Let’s figure it out together.”
Her words wrapped around me like a security blanket. I knew she would make everything okay. I took a deep breath and on the exhale, confessed my fears. “Well, there’s just a lot going on. I’ve been up here by myself all this time and things were getting really simple. I was the only person I had to focus on or worry about. Now, suddenly, I met these other kids and they have the same story I do. Well, for the most part. And I remember all the stuff you’ve taught me, but I don’t know how to give it to them or how to make them listen to me. And now I’m here in the middle of the night talking to you when I think I should be with them, but I just want to be here instead. I don’t know what’s going on.”
Theory smiled and held up her hand. “Ah, well let’s slow down for a bit and break this down into smaller parts that we can tackle. It seems, overall, that you’re having a hard time figuring out how you fit into the group so far. It also sounds like you miss the freedom of being on your own. Those are two very tricky things to balance indeed.”
I nodded my head, embarrassed about admitting how selfish that sounded. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Mm, well it seems you have started to discover the obligation of belonging to people,” she said thoughtfully.
I looked up at her, letting the shock of her words vibrate through me. She was right. The only thing I had ever wanted, more than anything, was to belong to someone. Now, here I was, surrounded by a group of people I could connect with, and all I wanted was my freedom back. Was I really that impossible to please? Was there a middle ground to belonging and independence? Was it possible to have both?
“It is possible to have both, you know,” said Theory, reading my mind as usual.
“How?”
“Well, it takes practice, and you are still learning about what your role in the universe is right now. For now, just reflect on what your main goal is. What is most important to you?”
I rested my face on my hand, thinking about what I could be meant for. I knew The Orphan’s Collective was important to me because it meant that kids who had been pushed around would finally have a voice. I knew that I wanted to be near Dodger and Theory, somehow at the same time. I knew that I was getting stronger the more I worked on myself. But how it all fit in together, was still beyond me. I lifted my head and shrugged my shoulders, frustrated. “I don’t know.”
“It’s okay, kiddo. You don’t need to know right now. It’s just something to start thinking about as your new life starts unfolding. Tell me about the new kids,” Theory suggested.
“Well, there Rishawn,” I said, almost smiling immediately. “He’s hilarious. He’s younger than me and always makes the best out of everything. The dude loves to eat and he’s constantly coming up with ideas about what we could do for fun.”
Theory laughed. “He sounds like a character. Good, I’m glad you have him. The group will need someone like him to stay balanced. And the others?”
“Well, it’s just me, Dodger, Rishawn, and…Mikayla,” I said, unable to keep my voice from trailing off.
“I see. Who’s Mikayla?”
Ugh, the question I was hoping she’d never ask finally arose. I rolled my eyes. “She’s Rishawn’s older cousin. She’s two years younger than me, but way bigger and stronger than any of us.”
“Physically?”
“Yeah, and other ways, I guess. She’s definitely a fighter.”
“Okay. What else?”
“Well, she’s…kind of mean.”
“How so?” Theory asked without missing a beat.
I leaned forward, relieved that I could finally tell someone about the tension I had been living with. “Well, she’s always angry for some reason. She likes to pick on Rishawn and gives all of us a hard time in general. She’s constantly in a bad mood and gives us attitude whenever we try to be helpful. Nothing is ever good enough for her. It’s just super annoying and hard to be around.”
“Hm,” said Theory, staying quite for a moment. “It sounds like she’s been through a lot.”
I scoffed and sat back in my seat. “Um, we’ve all been through stuff. That isn’t a reason to be mean to everyone around you all of the time.”
“Hm, maybe. Maybe not,” Theory said vaguely.
Determined to convince her that she was wrong, I started explaining the most recent argument between Mikayla and Rishawn. I told her about Rishawn’s great idea to build a shelter, and how Mikayla immediately shut it down. Then I told her how Mikayla pushed Rishawn so hard that he glazed over and started hitting himself, and how Dodger had to calm him down.
By the time I was done talking, Theory had folded her hands and rested her mouth against them. She held a deep look of concern, staying quiet as I finished my story. When I was finally done talking, she looked at the floor for a few minutes, as if trying to organize her response. I sat, equally quiet, waiting to hear the verdict, hoping I had described the situation accurately enough for her to understand what a mess I was living in.
“Sam, do you remember when you first yelled at me?” she finally asked.
“What?” I said, genuinely confused and wondering if she had heard anything I had just vented about.
“The time when we were in the printing press room downstairs. It was your first day here and you had wandered down there on your own. We started talking and I had pushed you too far by asking personal questions. Do you remember what you did? You slammed your fist on the table and we stood in silence together,” she said, now staring at me with a look so serious that I was afraid not to play along.
“Yes, I remember,” I mumbled.
“What was happening for you in that moment? When I started pushing on you and asking too many questions?”
I felt my face furrow and I looked to the floor, trying to recall what I was feeling at the time. “I don’t know. I guess I felt threatened. I didn’t know you at all and you were pushing on me. I was uncomfortable and in a new place, an
d you were making me do something I didn’t want to do.”
“You’re right. And what was your reaction to all of that?”
“I guess I was scared at first, but then got angry.”
“And what is anger’s job?”
I looked back up at Theory, whose face was still as serious as stone. “To protect you.”
“From what?” she pushed.
“From being hurt,” I grumbled.
Suddenly, I understood. I let out a sigh and relaxed back into my chair. “And that’s what Mikayla is doing.”
Theory nodded.
I sat quietly, thinking of everything that Mikayla did that created problems in the group. She was snarky, aggressive, and defiant. She made sure everyone knew that she was stronger than them, even when we made sure to be easy and laid back around her.
Theory was right; Mikayla was just trying to protect herself from getting hurt, similar to the way I had done a thousand times before with different people around me. We were both trying to get the same needs met, just in different ways.
Mikayla was in a new space with people she didn’t know. She had been taken away from her family for the umpteenth time, and now had to take care of her younger cousin when someone should have been taking care of her still. She had been neglected and verbally assaulted her entire life. How else was she supposed to act? Being big and strong was the only tool she had to feel safe and in control with the uncertainty around her. She was doing the very best with what she had.
I sighed, feeling guilty about not making the connection sooner. “I see.”
Theory’s face finally softened and she leaned toward me. “Sam, it’s difficult to see all of this when you’re up close to it. It’s okay to be struggling with it, but remember to keep seeing the whole person. Remember the things we’ve been talking about: about feelings and behaviors having a job. And that ultimately, we are all just trying to get our needs met.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I forgot all of that somehow, even though it’s all we’ve been talking about for months,” I joked, trying to relax the pressure I had put on myself to understand everything perfectly.
Theory smiled. “I don’t expect you to remember everything all of the time. You have the knowledge of what tools exist and you are doing a wonderful job executing them. It just takes a bit more time and the right circumstances to be able to use them all effectively. You’ll get there.”
“Thanks, Theory.”
“Of course,” she said softly before pausing and adding another thought. “Mm, if I may?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, the argument you described seemed to have some scary parts to it. It sounds like you were confused as to why everyone reacted the way they did when things escalated.”
Oh good, she was listening! I nodded, excited to hear her justification. “Yeah, everyone had a different way of getting angry. Why did all of that happen?”
“Well, everyone processes trauma differently. It sounds like everyone in your group has had some violence in their past. Our brains hold onto those experiences in different ways. For some people, it is more comfortable for their brains to shut down and disassociate to another place. It is safer to float off into another world and leave their bodies behind to deal with the damage.
“For others, it makes sense for them to act out by yelling or being destructive to the environment around them. It gives them a sense of control to be in power, the way their abuser once was. And, for a few, they will take their pain out on themselves. Some people don’t know where to put their hurt, so they will hurt themselves so that at least there is a tangible source of pain. There is no right or wrong way of expressing pain and traumatic events, just safe and unsafe ways.
“Just remember, whatever ‘scary behavior’ you see in someone who has been abused is something that has worked to protect them in the past. Instead of judging it or being intimidated by it, ask what purpose it might have served for them when they were being hurt. Does punching a hole through a wall help a person feel the same strength that someone stronger took away from them? Play detective a little and I promise that you will understand why they do what they do a little more.”
My heart ached with empathy for the friends that lay sleeping under the stars back at camp. I thought of the ways I had acted out in the past, remembering that it wasn’t that long ago that Theory had to hold me as I screamed at her from the library floor. We were all just hurting and needing someone to see beyond our walls and into our souls to be whole again.
“Sam, before you go back,” Theory said, looking at me in a way that made sure I was listening.
“Yeah?”
“Remember that you have every single thing you need inside of you already to survive and be okay, and that every kid around you is capable of the same kind of magic. Try to help them see it when you can.”
A weight of compassion and sadness flooded my soul. The sweetness in Theory’s voice reminded me of the strength and resiliency I had uncovered while I had been working so hard in this very library, well before I hiked to Lake Isabel to let new people into my life.
The other kids didn’t have a Theory in their lives, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t share her wisdom and kindness with them. I felt blessed knowing that Theory was still around and still mine, even if our time together had to be spread out a bit more to accommodate the universe.
I smiled with sincerity. “Okay, I will.”
She stood up and offered a hug that reassured me that everything would be all right. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s pack some decent food for you and the others to munch on.”
“Okay,” I said, surrendering my strength to the comfort and safety of being home.
Theory began to walk toward the kitchen, then paused and turned around. “You know, if things ever get too big, you can always come back here.”
My heart raced, not knowing how to express my gratitude and love for the woman who had already given so much to me. “Okay, thank you.”
“And Sam,” she said, approaching me again and setting her hand on my shoulder. “at the very least, in any difficult situation, you will always have your imagination.”
“My imagination?”
“That’s right. After all, your imagination is the key to resiliency. If you’re ever unsure of a situation, use your imagination to navigate through it. Create a safe space in your mind. Memorize every inch of it until it is completely yours. Play in it until your heart feels strong enough to wake up and fight the real world again. After all, you are far bigger than you yet realize.” With a wink and a pat on the shoulder, she excused herself from the room.
I stood alone, wondering what she meant by my “being bigger” than I realized. As I began to walk out of the room, I caught sight of the paper tent we had played with during our first session in the library. It sat, still burnt on the edges from the imaginary forest fire it had survived.
“Hm,” I mumbled, right before it shook in place and then fell still again.
“Imagination is the key to resiliency.”
-Theory
CHAPTER Twenty-Three
I woke up the next morning to the sound of splashing and laughing. I sat up in my sleeping bag, rubbing the few hours of sleep I had gotten out of my eyes, watching Rishawn charge into the lake trying to catch fish with his bare hands. I glanced around for Dodger and Mikayla, wondering if anyone had noticed I was gone all night. Mikayla’s tent was zipped shut, which meant she was sleeping still. Since she was the only one I was really worried about, I laid back down, grateful for my time with Theory.
“Ahhh! I almost got that one,” screamed Rishawn from the water’s edge. I kept my eyes closed, laughing quietly at his enthusiasm over a goal he’d likely never reach.
“Dude, shut up already” roared an infamous voice from the tent. “Some of us are trying to sleep!”
Woops, Rishawn had done it now; the lion was awake. I rolled onto my elbows, squinting at the sun that was making its way through a lay
er of clouds. I reminded myself about last night’s conversation with Theory, imagining Mikayla having to use strength to take care of herself in a scary house growing up. It made the dramatic unzipping of her tent more tolerable when it finally happened. “Rishawn! Seriously, man. Why are you even up so early!”
“Someone’s gotta feed us,” he exclaimed from the water.
I smiled at the sopping wet eight-year-old boy in front of me. Unfortunately, Mikayla didn’t think he was as cute as I did. “And you’re just gonna go and catch fish with your bare hands like yer some kind of grizzly bear? Are you really that dense right now?”
I saw Rishawn turns toward the shore and ball his fists up. “You just woke up and you’re already gonna yell at me?”
A stinging fear of another argument erupting shot me to my feet. “Hey guys, good morning. I was thinking, Rishawn, you and I could go for a hike and collect mushrooms for breakfast.”
Mikayla’s eyes burned a hole right through me. Just as I was waiting for her to lurch all of her body mass at me, Rishawn interrupted. “A hike? I love those! Yeah, let’s go, Sam. Who needs these fish, anyways.”
“That’s right, friend,” I said for the sake of responding. Really, I just wanted to run away from Mikayla and her death glare as fast as I could. The way she looked me over made me wonder if she knew about my leaving last night. Before anything else could be said, I grabbed my pack and marched toward the line of pine trees on the other side of the lake. “Come on, Rishawn.”
“Coming,” yelled a voice from behind me. I could hear him shuffling to grab his shoes and shirt, but was too intimidated by his older cousin to turn back around and wait for him.
Finally, the sound of jogging feet caught up to me and we made our way toward the ridge of the mountain. I thought about the canyon I had passed on my original hike to Isabel, figuring it would be a good distraction for both of us to sit near for a couple hours until Mikayla chilled out and settled into her routine.
Sam's Theory Page 22
