Empathy No. 165

06/09/03, Dr. Brawney's office – afternoon

There was a severity to Dr. Brawney's office that hadn't abetted since Roderick stopped coming. It was nothing he could articulate - a confluence of factors, the color of the paint, the needlessly expansive executive desk, the stylish yet unforgiving chairs, the paucity of personal flair. On his first visit, he'd struggled to hide his discomfort; at this late a date, he gave himself permission to exhibit just a little bit of scorn.

"I still don't know why I'm here," he said, shoving down the tremor in his voice. "I told you, I'm not doing this any more and you're not going to talk me into-"

"Honey, I know and we all respect that," said Eleanor. "That's not why I asked you to come with me."

It seemed that Eleanor had always been more at ease here - or was this merely a show for her son? Perhaps it didn't matter - the warm look and the calm manner always had a way of turning aside Roderick's ire, and he relaxed at once, if only slightly.

Still, there was no force that could still Roderick's curiosity. "Then what am I doing here? Why are you so quiet about this?"

At the call of an unspoken cue, Dr. Brawney made her appearance at the door. "Good morning, Roderick." Her voice was as soul-mute as it ever was, betraying no hint of her own inner thoughts. "I'm glad that you agreed to meet with me today."

"I'm not changing my mind," said Roderick, shifting into a faintly defensive posture. "I'm done with therapy."

"I know," said Dr. Brawney. "I didn't call you in to see me. There's someone else here that we would like you to speak with."

"Someone else?" Again, Roderick's curiosity got the better of him - it seemed as though he should be agitated at this news, but in truth he wanted to know more.

Dr. Brawney took a seat at the other end of the desk, hands folded deliberately before her. "One of my colleagues is visiting today. His name is Dr. Singleton, and he's a specialist in neurodevelopmental disorders with a focus on autism and related disorders."

There was a flicker of silence as Roderick processed what he'd heard. "What?"

Dr. Brawney raised a hand in a token act of pacification. "We discussed this before, I'm sure you remember it. Dr. Singleton is involved in research on a spectrum of disorders related to autism. We have had a few discussions, and he wants to interview you."

At once, Roderick rediscovered the outrage he'd denied himself. "Oh my God. You've been planning this! You've been planning this for...for months? All along?"

"Roderick, please," said Dr. Brawney. "This will only take about an hour, but depending on Dr. Singleton's opinion, he may ask you to go to Denver for a few days-"

"You ambushed me?" Roderick was lost to reason and self-awareness, no longer taking even the smallest effort to conceal the cracks in his voice. "You knew I wouldn't go along with this, so you ambush me? You lie to me to get me down here and then you spring this like it's no big deal?"

"It's not like that!" Eleanor reached for Roderick's arm, as she'd done since he was barely able to walk on his own. "I know this isn't what you want right now, but you're going to be on your own in a few years, and this could really help. It might even help both of us."

Roderick shook away his mother's touch. "Shut up! All of you keep telling me that I should trust you and you're plotting against me. You think I can't hear you? You think I'm stupid? Forget this!"

Dramatic exits had never been in Roderick's repertoire any more than flamboyant entrances, but the emotion of the moment had flipped a switch. Eleanor stood and reached for him but found only air as he rushed through the office door, his presence only hinted at by the echo of leaden steps down the hall.

"Roderick, wait!" Eleanor's words missing their mark, she turned at once to Dr. Brawney to remedy the situation. "He...he's just a little surprised. I think if we give him a few minutes to cool off, he'll come around. He always does."

"Maybe not this time." Dr. Brawney straightened and then restraightened her glasses. "Eleanor, there is something I've been meaning to discuss with you as well. I think Roderick has been stealing my session tapes."

Eleanor returned to her seat, eyes now fully locked to Dr. Brawney. "What are you talking about?"

"The recordings I make of my sessions," said Dr. Brawney. "At the beginning of this year, I discovered that some of my tapes were misfiled and one of them was missing. The missing tape returned after Roderick's session. After that, I started keeping close track of the tapes. They only disappeared or moved after I saw him."

Eleanor's gaze hardened for a moment. "If you're going to call my son a thief, you'd better have a lot more proof than that. He's never been trouble, not a day in his life!"

Dr. Brawney let out the depleted sigh of the bearer of bad news. "Eleanor, the only tapes that ever went missing were his and yours."

"Oh my God." Eleanor's defiance melted in a thin moment. "He knows we've been talking about him."

"This would explain his trust issues," said Dr. Brawney. "I may have things to answer for here, but so does Roderick."

Eleanor was on her feet and headed for the door before Dr. Brawney's words fell still. "I'll go get him, okay? I'll talk it over with him and come back. I have to."