Chapter Six Page Two, Neil, Neil's House

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Neil heard someone step past his doorway as they walked down the hallway, and then heard the floorboards creak as they shifted back to lean in and look at him. “Are you alright, Neil?” It was his mom. Her expression was the same as it’d been when she’d first seen his injuries.

            “Yeah,” Neil said.

            “How’s it feeling?”

            “The ice is making it pretty numb,” he said, “So it isn’t I guess.”

            “Do you still not remember what they looked like?”

            “Who?” Neil asked.

            “The people who did this to you.”

            “It was just one guy, mom,” he said, “But it was dark. And I get a headache thinking about it.”

            “Really? The doctor said your brain scan didn’t show anything out of the ordinary. Nothing that should make your memory… nothing that would make you forget.”

            “I don’t want to think about it,” Neil said.

            “Ok,” his mother said. The tone of voice was such to indicate that she wasn’t ok with it, but that she’d give him time. It’s a tone of voice used frequently by mothers, but by everyone else from time to time, when patience is required. She left him alone.

            Neil sighed and, as he did, his phone rang. He picked it up and saw that it was Asta. He hit receive and placed it against his ear, “Hello?”

            “Hello,” the voice was a man’s, an old man, with a soft but weathered voice, “Is this Neil?”

            “Yeah,” Neil said, “Who is this?”

            “Asta’s psychiatrist, Dr. Cook. Listen, Neil, would you have a chance to come Uptown and help Asta with some tests?”

            “Uh,” Neil said, sitting upright, “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not supposed to drive. I can ask my parents to give me a ride.”

            “I can tell from your tone that now would not be good for you,” the psychiatrist said, “Perhaps another time?”

            “Yeah,” Neil said, “Tomorrow? Would tomorrow work?”

            “How about…” The doctor said, “Tuesday?”

            “Tuesday should work,” Neil said, “Where should I go?”

            Dr. Cook gave him an address. Neil thought he knew the street. A street occupied primarily by townhouses if his memory served.

            “Ok, what time?” Neil asked.

            “After school,” the doctor said, “if you have nothing occupying you, that is.”

            “I’m free,” Neil said, “What kind of test is it?”

            “Remarkable,” the doctor said, “I mean, they’re psychological tests, in an abstract sort of way. They’re for Asta. But it helps to have a close friend on hand.”

            “A close friend?” Neil asked. He wasn’t sure if he considered himself her close friend.

            “Yes,” the psychiatrist said, “She said you’re something of a best friend for her. One of the few.”

            Neil stopped himself from saying, I am? “Yeah, sure.”

            “Ok, Tuesday after school. Asta will meet you here.”

            “Do you need my phone number?” Neil asked.

            “I can get it from Asta’s phone, thank you for offering,” the doctor said, “On Tuesday, then.”

            “Yeah,” Neil said. He heard the connection cut out. He looked at his floor for a second. He felt confused. He wondered if it was the pain medication. He wondered too if the tests were going to be complicated.

            He waited a few more hours, unsure of what to do to pass the time until Hana would give him a call. He started up his games but shut them off quickly afterwards. He opened a book but couldn’t focus on the words. He sighed. He thought about Asta a little, remembered what she looked like, remembered the last thing he’d said to her, “Seeya, I hope it works out.”

He said it aloud in his room twice, “Seeya, I hope it works out,” to try to remember what it was that he was hoping would work out.

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