Young Writers Society

There was a crisp cool air throughout their home which resulted in an ongoing grogginess even as Elaine completed her early morning preparations. She tried her best to keep up with the time, rubbing her eyes to slay her unrested mood while the coffee pot slowly filled. Most mornings the aroma of the Colombian beans was enough to alert her senses, but now it only filled her nostrils to provide her a sense of defeat, recognizing another day ahead of her to grapple with. Indeed she was especially tired that morning, and the small bags under her eyes made her appear several years older.

After pouring her cup and checking the time, she tiredly edged into the living room which provided more warmth than the kitchen. Dan was sitting on the couch, looking twice as exhausted as she was, switching through TV channels with stoic eyes. Unlike Elaine, he was dressed down in black sweatpants and a faded top. She saw that his face looked very pale, prompting her to ask "When did you wake up?"

He was surprised, lowering the volume to reply. He was so glad to see her that he didn't care to harass her for being without her crutches. "You're working today?"

"It's some sort of required teacher's conference—I can't say I'm looking forward to it."

"What about the party?"

"You still want to go?"

She brought the cup of coffee to her nose and lips to hide her expression. She couldn't help but do so whenever Dan looked upset—with the little bit of hair he had remaining that adorned his forehead and the long lashes that settled around his hazel eyes, he looked like a child forbidden candy before dinner. She watched as he slumped into the couch, awaiting it to devour him entirely. Any other woman may have been repulsed by the way he looked then; he was in a depressed slump since the incidents the day previous. Weston had shown up to their home with Dan, and he explained that Dan had been enduring frequent attacks over the past few hours. Weston had suggested Elaine consider bringing Dan to the hospital, but when Elaine attempted Dan stubbornly refused. She could not talk him down from his attacks that night, and he wouldn't speak with her about whatever it was which spurred forth his frequent episodes. Instead she often left him alone that evening as he had requested.

"I do want to," he replied at last, reverting his attention away from Elaine's coffee sips. "I honestly do. I'll be there."

She nodded and eyed him. It was rare that he took time off lately, and she didn't want to disturb what little free time he had. She still couldn't fight away her fear, however. She took a breath after lowering her cup and quickly asked "Do you think you could give me a ride?"

He was happy to. He changed into his red striped sweater and they climbed into his car. She held firmly onto her crutches for the brief ride, and as usual Dan was having trouble finding anything worthwhile sifting through the airwaves. They arrived in minutes, and it cut his search short. The elementary school was two stories and towered over the children walking below who were scurrying to locate their classrooms on time.

Elaine exited the vehicle after Dan slowed to a stop behind the long lane of cars along the “drop-off” side of the road, and her farewell was interrupted as she nearly hit the ground, toppling from the added weight that flung itself at her.

"Hi, Mrs. Phillips! Mrs. Phillips!"

Elaine brought herself to stand, holding her head looking dazzled. In the process of eyeing the girl clung around Elaine's waist, Dan noticed she was familiar. Her dark eyes twinkled happily and her muddy brown hair fit well against softly tanned skin. It was the mole under the girl's eye that sparked first recognition, and as if puzzle pieces taking their place, Carly appeared in a hurried trot.

"Don't just run off like that!" Carly tried to pick the girl away from Elaine. "Oh, El, I'm so sorry—are you alright?"

"I'm alright..."

"You know very well not to get reckless like this, Ash!"

"It's really alright, I'm fine."

"She says she's fine! Gimme a break, mom!" Ash swiped away from Carly's grip and clung back onto Elaine. "I barely get to see her anymore. I'm going to middle school soon, you know! I won't ever get to see her after that, mom!"

"On with that are you—" Carly sighed and dropped the argument, heading towards Dan's window upon seeing him wave her down to talk. Ash's eyes darted towards him and she took a step back behind Elaine, making sure that her binding with her ex-mentor didn't break. "Hey Mrs. Phillips...who's that guy supposed to be?"

"Oh, him..." Elaine frowned thoughtfully, and her mind automatically spewed out an answer that was pre-translated for a four-year-old. "That's Mr. Phillips."

"Wait, really?" Ash shot the back of Dan's head a glare. "That old guy? Seriously?"

Elaine held back her laughter. "Don't let him hear you say that—he'd be furious."

"C'mon Mrs. Phillips, you could do better."

"Is there better?"

"Yes, duh! Waaay better! You're pretty and smart; you could be with any guy in the world!"

"I quite like Mr. Phillips though...does he look that bad a choice to you?"

"Yes, he does! I'll prove he's a horrible choice, watch me!"

"Oh, Ash—"

Ash swung open the passenger door to the car, welcoming herself to Elaine's seat. Carly saw this from outside Dan's window and tried to tell her that she shouldn't just climb into “whomever's car”, but she paid no attention to her mother. Instead she assaulted Dan with a barrage of odd questions, such as what his favorite food was. Carly slipped away from the interrogation scene and met with Elaine to properly greet her. After some pointless back and forth, Carly said "How has Dan been holding up? He looks pale this morning—lifeless, almost. Is he having attacks again?"

"He won't talk to me about why they've been going on like this." Elaine confessed sheepishly.

"Have you tried discussing therapy with him?"

"I doubt he'll ever take to the idea, but I can keep asking."

"Good, keep asking. He'll go eventually, he knows he needs to." Carly turned away to answer her cellphone, and a minute later she ended the call fuming with irritation. "Damn!” she murmured before turning back to Elaine. “El, do you think you could watch Ash for a little after her party?"

“Sure. Does she mind spending time with—hmm, how did she call them last year…’slobbering kids’?”

“She’ll put up with it, trust me.” Carly took a few steps forward to the car and knocked on Ash’s window. “Come on, don’t do this—you seriously cannot be late again this week!”

Ash drew away from Dan, stiffening with frustration before dragging herself slowly from the car. The door opened gently and she plopped out, straightening her skirt and crossing her arms. She followed Elaine along to please her infuriated mother.

“He’s not too bad.” Ash said as she rejoined Elaine’s side. She was thankful Ash had quit her clinging. “Actually, I realized I recognized him…”

“I’m sure you do recognize him, you’ve met him before…then again you were young at the time, huh?”

“I remember him but I didn’t recognize him! He looks so much older now. And where did all his hair disappear to?”

“Now that’s something you definitely don’t want him to overhear.”

“I already told him and he got all pissy.”

Elaine glanced to her. “New word? I don’t think I’ve heard that one from you before.”

“What, pissy? Eh, it works when I need it to.”

“Is that so?”

“Mrs. Phillips, what are you gonna do about that conference today?”

“Sit through it and then have a cup of coffee afterwards…sounds like a good idea, right?”

“No—they’ll really rag you hard today, I’m telling you. It’s all because of that book you recommended!”

“Why would they—” Elaine paused, withholding the rest of her sentence. There were several reasons why The Tales of Tomorrow could have been taken offensively. "Where did you hear that?"

"I overheard a few teachers talking about it. You don't deserve their crap, Mrs. Phillips. I started reading that book and I really like it so far. So what if there's a few bad words?"

“I think it’s a bit more than just—”

The sound of the school bell echoed across the grounds. The first bell always served as a sort of warning bell so that the straggling students were blessed a final rush to arrive on time. With Ash by Elaine’s side and Elaine moving at a turtle’s speed (which were her crutches' doing), she tried to push Ash to hurry along. Ash didn’t do so until the bell rung out a second time, confirming her tardiness. She ran off in laughter, having successfully gone against her mother’s rule.

Ultimately Elaine was relieved that her wrongful recommendation was not the main focus of the meeting that morning. It was only briefly discussed among many topics of more importance that involved the school year's closure. Those few minutes her wrongdoing was the talk of the table were unbearable. She could feel intense disdain emitting from her co-workers, as if their own children were in immediate danger because of her recommendation. The principal had come to the conclusion that because Elaine had been recommending the novel for the neighboring middle school, no sort of punishment would come her way. However because her recommendation had also been heard by younger students, they were considering banning the book across their campus.

The principal sat her down to speak with her one-on-one afterwards. He gave her a long lecture and it was the same garbage she'd grown to hear so much of, starting with the typical "Listen, I know this past year has been rough for you, but..."

By the time she was free to leave it was nearing noon. She first dropped by the break-room to have the coffee she'd been craving, which she downed although it tasted stale as if burnt. She made sure to take her afternoon dosage of medicine with her coffee before she returned to her classroom.

When she entered, nearly half of the children broke away from their assistant teacher to greet Elaine in a joyous flurry.

“Mrs. Phillips!”

“Hi Mrs. Phillips!”

“Mrs. Phillips, come and watch the movie with us!”

The lights were dimmed and the rest of the class was huddled around the TV in front of the white-board. They pulled her to the group and she seated herself beside the assistant teacher, who detailed the class' morning to her in a whisper.

When the movie ended the two teachers set out snacks and games, and the students became as loud as they could, something they weren't permitted to do normal days. They scurried about and fought over toy possession, which the teachers broke apart quickly.

Elaine knew that Ash's party was to end around 1PM that afternoon. Ten minutes after 1PM Elaine wasn't concerned, but 20 minutes later she set out to search the campus for the missing child.

She didn't have to search far. Besides the hallway closest to her classroom she could hear Ash's screams, causing her to drop her crutches, forcing herself to run while using the wall to guide her against her tide of fumbles. There became another voice present echoing through the halls that was a boy's piercing shouts. She arrived and saw Ash with the boy in the middle of the hall looking to be in the process of killing one another; Ash had the boy to the ground pounding circular fists into his chest again and again as she shouted obscenities in his face.

Elaine grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her from the boy, but she ferociously fought from Elaine, eager to deliver the boy more damage.

"Stop it, Ash! Stay away from him!"

"Let go of me! It's all his fault, let go!" Ash managed to grab the boy's shirt and a handful of hair. He shouted and landed a kick to Ash's shoulder to ward her back. "It's not my fault your dad hates you, you stupid ugly freak!"

"Your slut of a mom took him from me!"

"Ash! Stop it!"

She pulled Ash away again and fell backwards with her, but she continued her battle to hold Ash back from attacking again. A few teachers had arrived on the scene, disturbed to find a fist fight brewing amongst children. The boy scrunched his face, sobbing loudly to draw attention to himself, shivering and scratched up against the wall.

"What happened here?" the assistant principal, an older woman with highly arched eyebrows was among the teachers who had come to break-up the fight. She had broken from them to consult Elaine, who still held back the struggling Ash.

"I don't know," Elaine began. "I—"

"He deserved it!" Ash shouted before she spat in his direction.

"Fantastic," the principal's words were seethed in sarcasm and she rolled her eyes to match it. "It's detention's favorite Ash Simmons with our teacher of the year, Elaine. What a surprise..."

Some of the teachers snickered and the assistant principal went on. "Let's hear it this time, Ash. Are you trying to get expelled now? You've had one too many warnings."

"Like I care if you kick me out!"

"Ash," Elaine mumbled. "Be nice, come on now."

"Would you please not interfere?" she snapped at Elaine. "You're lucky not to have been fired, you know. You've really reached the end of the line with this wretched book fiasco—which, by the way, has affected more of our students than you think. I had to confiscate a copy of that book from a fourth-grader just last week!"

"That doesn't mean it's her fault!" Ash barked.

"I'd suggest you settle down, Ash." The older woman retorted slowly. "I'm sure someone's calling your mother up right now, and I don't think she'll be happy..."

The few teachers walked off with the boy who was exaggerating his injuries, staggering along. Ash had settled down and remained motionless in Elaine's lap, glaring at the floor. The assistant principal looked thoughtfully to the boy until they were out of sight with him, and following their departure she said "Well, come on Ash. You'll talk to the school therapist about this."

"No way, I hate her!"

"Who don't you hate? Now come on, Ash."

"Shouldn't she go to the nurse? She's a little cut up." Elaine couldn't retain her concern. "I can take her for you."

"No, that's just fine. You've been enough of a negative influence on this girl that—"

"I'm taking her." Elaine said sternly, rising as she wiped clean the face of her shirt and jeans. Although the principle argued against this, Elaine ignored her and walked right on past, pulling Ash along hand in hand. Her caked cheeks reddened with frustration and Ash stuck her tongue out, angering the old woman further.

The clinic was nearly empty and the nurse jumped to the conclusion that Elaine was the injured of the two. She explained that she had left her crutches behind and that Ash was the one in need of attention. Ash seated herself in one of the chairs, staring down the boy across the room she had fought with. As soon as the boy was bandaged, the nurse brought him to speak with his parents.

Elaine began to bandage Ash without the nurse's assistance. As she was setting a Band-Aid on a nasty cut that branded the cheek below her mole, she asked "What exactly happened?"

"He hit me first."

"You know not to be around him in the first place."

Ash clenched her teeth and lowered her head slightly, causing a piece of her woolly chocolate hair fell in front of her nose. "I really hate it here, Mrs. Phillips. Nobody here likes me besides you."

"That's not—"

"It is true, though! It's gotten worse ever since my dad..." her voice trailed off a little as she struggled to end her sentence appropriately. "Left us. And I'm all alone here, I don't even have any friends in my class. I think you're my best friend because we're both alone..."

"We can't be alone if we're together, right?"

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "I don't want to go to a new school next year—I want to stay here with you."

It was the best time to admit what had been on her mind, although nobody had heard her plans before, making Ash the first. "You know, Ash...I'd been thinking of applying to teach at a middle school. Don't tell anybody, but I've been setting up my resume and I was going to send it next door, first thing."

"Really?" At the aspect of Elaine teaching at Ash's future middle school, she brightened up ten notches. However, after a minute of letting the idea settle, she simmered down to her previous low. "But why? You said you loved teaching little kids, right?"

"I do, but...it's been rough since Dustin passed away. He was around their age, so..."

"Couldn't you always teach another grade here? I bet the third graders wouldn't be too bad."

She didn't respond. Ash was young and she wouldn't understand, but even if she could, it wasn't something Elaine could properly convert into words. She vividly recalled how her husband's family reacted to Dustin's passing—they were assertive in forcing blame on Elaine. Secretly, to herself, she thought it was her fault too. If only she hadn't gone onto the roads that morning; if only she hadn't taken that left turn; if only she could remember a single thing about the man behind the wheel of the other car; if only she....

"Don't cry, Mrs. Phillips!"

Cry...? Shit! Was she—?

She had no time to confirm. Ash had leapt forward to wrap her slender arms around Elaine's neck, embracing her in a tight hug. "It'll be okay! I miss him too you know!"

Their short moment was broken by the nurse returning. Ash broke away from Elaine to stare down the principal, who had come in behind the nurse looking disappointed. Behind him was Carly, and she appeared more worried than anything else. Elaine took the opportunity to leave before the principal could say anything about her squabble with the assistant principal; an occurrence she knew would lead to more trouble on her part. Exhausted, she returned to her classroom and picked up her crutches along the way.

She had forgotten Dan was to arrive until she saw him on the classroom floor, helping several children put together a toy. She seated herself beside him, and when he greeted her she noticed the color had returned to his skin since she'd seen him last. He kissed her cheek (which the few children witnessing winced at) and said "Where were you all this time? I've been helping Jonathan and Amy build a space shuttle—check it out." he held it up for her to see.

Jonathan glared and snatched their creation back. "Stop showing off, baldy! It's not even finished yet!"

"For the hundredth time, my name's not baldy." he pointed to the visitor tag on his sweater. "See? Dan."

"Dan the baldy!"

The children broke out in giggles. He smiled faintly and glanced to Elaine. "What's wrong?"

"It's really nothing—long day."

"Hey kiddos," Dan gestured to the two huddled near him. "Think you can find me some good pieces to finish our space shuttle with?"

This challenge excited them, and they dashed to the toy box, nearly toppling the assistant teacher over in the process.

"Damn are they cute." Dan was still grinning as he looked on. "Hectic little things, though. It's no wonder you're tired."

"I'm tired of a lot of things around here."

"Yeah?"

"The way they handle Ash is all wrong."

"Have you talked to the principal about it? He's fond of you, right? He'd listen."

"I suppose so." she couldn't admit she'd been lectured that morning, and that the principal's trust in her had dwindled. "You look a lot better. Did you get some rest?"

"A little." he scratched his scalp and repositioned himself, slipping an envelope from his back pocket. "You wouldn't believe it, though. The APA invited me to speak at their upcoming conference."

He opened the letter as if it was on fragile aged paper and handed it to her. He explained that he hadn't even volunteered to speak like other members which meant they'd gone after him specifically.

Elaine folded the letter as she completed it, saying "That's really something...are you going to go, though?"

He nervously scratched his scalp. "Well, no..."

"Dan!"

"What—?"

"You have to go! You'll get to talk about your book and-shit, it's the APA!"

"I couldn't handle that audience. Hundreds of people show up. They even tape all the lectures at the conference and sell them to whoever was so unfortunate as to miss out or—"

"Isn't that what you want?"

He froze. She'd gotten inside of his brain again! Would it kill her to knock?

"It only gives me a few months to put something together..."

"That's plenty of time, isn't it? Why not give it a try?"

And so Dan spent the following few days with the letter at the front of his mind. At least twice a day he would open it to re-read it cautiously. When he returned to work he read it in-between sessions, and after his session before lunch hour, Weston barged in and caught him in the act. Dan tried to hide the letter but Weston eagerly swiped it from him. Weston held the letter as if it were an infant when he saw the sender.

"Whaaaat? This is from the APA!"

"Uh, yeah, I know..."

"Is it the APA or the APA?"

"Huh?"

"Well y'know...there's the American Psychological Association and also the American Psychiatric—"

"I'm not a psychiatrist, Weston."

"Right well—oh there it is, at the top there! Yeah that's definitely the APA."

He pressed his glasses against the shaft of his nose and squinted at the letter once more. "Hmm...they're inviting you to speak?"

"Seems like it, yeah."

"Damn, you're lucky! It's always been my dream to speak there!"

"You have one too many dreams."

"Seriously, they usually have doctors up there speaking—all those fancy know-it-alls. They must've picked you because of your book!" he lowered the letter, gleaming. "I'm totally gonna be there to cheer you on! Oh, imagine the look on Colin's face when he sees you're speaking this year! I doubt he's ever had the chance, poor bastard!"

Weston's ramble was cut short by a knock on Dan's door. Weston answered the door and let their guest in. Carly slowly edged in the room, and Ash was behind her clinging to the end of her shirt. She immediately strode past Weston, consulting Dan with tired eyes. "Hey, Dan, do you think you have any openings?"

"Yeah, plenty. Have you finally snapped?"

"Worse. They've suspended Ash and they're insisting she see a real therapist. I tried to take her to my place but she threw a fit because she didn't like any of the ones they've got working there. She says she really wants to do therapy with you, and I don't trust any of the quacks elsewhere."

Ash peaked around her mother, showing the whites of her teeth to Dan. He frowned. "I wouldn't mind but...I'm not certified to treat kids; just adults."

"You're not?" Carly blinked. "I could have sworn—you really aren't?"

"Afraid not, but Weston here is. Right Weston?"

Carly and Ash turned to eye Weston for the first time since they'd entered. He waved happily. "Sure thing, I'd love to! I'm great with kids!"

"Works for me," Carly shrugged. "Especially if Dan's in the nearby vicinity."

Dan pulled the proper forms from his desk and Carly leaned over to fill them in. Ash stayed close to Carly, holding onto the leg of her pants apprehensively eyeing Weston. Weston smiled and squatted down to be face-to-face with Ash. "Hey there, what's your name?"

"…Ash."

"And how old are you?"

"…I just turned 13."

"Thirteen!" he pointed to the headphones that dangled around her neck. "So you must be into that Bieber kid, right? Bieber fever and all that? Oh this'll be easy, you kids are pretty simple now-a-days with your boy bands and your smart phones and your—"

Ash slammed her foot into his shin, and he fell over, letting loose an agonizing yelp. She made sure to kick his other shin to even things out. "He sucks, stupid!"

Carly glanced back to Weston, lifting her pen momentarily to watch him flail about, holding his leg. "Ash, don't kick your therapist. Even if he sort of deserves it."

"Mom, I don't want this guy to be my therapist. He's stupid! He's talking about Bieber fever and dumb stuff like that! I'm not some slobbering 7 year old!"

"Kick him again!" Dan called past Carly. "He doesn't look like he felt that last one."

"Screw you I didn't feel it!" Weston snapped. "I'm seriously hurting here! I think it's broken or someth—"

Ash kicked him again and Carly laughed before scolding Ash properly. By the time they left Weston had been kicked several times more for saying things that Ash didn't take well to, and after looking over the papers Carly had filled out Weston limped from the room, pouting. "I'll get it right next week, trust me Dan! My first child patient will be a success!"

"You might want to start from scratch with this one. Oh, and don't forget—" Dan held up the appointment card and Weston hurriedly strode back into the room to grab it. He stared the appointment dates down and then said "Can I ask you something?"

Dan nodded. "Sure."

"Why are people always kicking me?"

"Erm...."

"Toughie, isn't it?" Weston turned to leave. "I'll let you think on it."

Now that he was finally alone again, he was free to re-read his letter in peace.

‘Daniel Phillips,

We've heard much of your accomplishments and would like to—'

His phone started to ring and he placed the letter down to answer. For having read it as much as he had, he knew he shouldn't have been irritated to be interrupted and yet he still was. His secretary told him it was Lindsay Roland calling in.

He debated to himself whether or not he wanted to take the call, and before he could decide he had accepted it. He pulled her file from the stack at the corner of his desk and propped it open as Lindsay greeted him. Her first concern was his well-being.

"I hope you're doing better...Weston told me that I shouldn't worry, but..."

He turned several pages forward into her file. After what she witnessed, it must have been impossible not to worry. "I'm doing better now, thanks. How was your evening with Weston?"

She laughed. "It went well...I'm not sure if I'll go out with him again though."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, I just don't think this is what I need."

"Did you have fun?"

"Well, yes..."

"Isn't that what matters?"

"I suppose that's a good point..."

"I had a few questions for you, if you don't mind?"

"Oh," she sounded startled. "That's fine, anything."

"Referring to your background..." Dan flipped back a page. "You said you had a suicide in the family—your sister, was it?"

"Right, when I was 15..."

"I see here you put that you've never been suicidal."

"Right..."

"So you've never been suicidal yourself—not even once?"

"No, not at all."

He asked her a few more questions before disconnecting to observe the added information that had gone into her file. She was lying to him and he could tell. It wasn't uncommon to have a patient tell a lie and it was his job to detect when it was happening. He tapped his pen against the desk, forming the faint beat of a familiar tune. Yes, she was lying. But why?