Starting Point (16 page)

“I’m sorry,” I told her.

“You’re under stress,” she rationalised. “You’re allowed to express your concerns, Matt. It’s the very reason you come here.”

I took a calming breath, and ignored her objective rationale the best I could. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“My six month review must have been up by now,” I said. It was a statement, not a question. “So can I ask what your recommendation was?”

Tamara smiled. “Matt, you knew this was a long-term endeavour. And you’ve become impatient that things aren’t moving quick enough? Is that the problem?” she asked, her tone still neutral. “If the problem is with me, I can find you another therapist if you’d prefer?”

“I don’t want another therapist,” I snapped back at her. “I don’t want to have to start again. I want to get better, and I’m prepared for it to take a long time—after all, I was pretty fucked up, and that’s gonna take some fixing. I just think there’s an issue here with the kids I’m trying to help, like you’re waiting for everything to fail.”

“Like
I’m
waiting for it to fail?” she asked. “Or is it
you
that’s waiting for it all to fail?”

I opened my mouth to rebuke her stupid fucking question, but couldn’t. I snapped my mouth shut, stared out of the window and said nothing.

“Time’s up, Matt,” she said.

I almost thanked God out loud.

“Your meeting on Thursday is a couple’s session with Kira. Will you want to discuss what we’ve talked about today with him?”

“Sure,” I said, still staring out of the window. “I tell him everything that you and I talk about anyway,” I added.

“Okay. Good.” This time she sighed. “Matt, I want you to know, I don’t have any problems with anything you’ve done, or are trying to do—especially with those children. I think you’ve come incredibly far in a short time, and you should be proud. So today wasn’t a great day. And that’s fine—it’s perfectly normal. But, Matt, if you’re looking for me to tell you that you don’t need to have these appointments, I can’t do that. I’m not here to tell you what you want to hear, Matt. I’m here to do my job, and that’s to help you get better. I want you to move forward, to have a happy and fulfilling life with Kira—and with kids, if that’s what you want. And I have no doubt you’ll have exactly that. Matt, don’t sell yourself short. Give yourself the time it takes to heal.”

I stopped short of saying ‘what-the-fuck-ever’ and said nothing instead.

I caught a cab back to work and instead of going into my office, I got changed into my gym gear and hit the treadmill. Normally the steady beat of my feet on a treadmill would clear my head and relax me, but not today. The other guys gave me space—maybe it was the angry determination on my face, or maybe it was because of how fast I was running.

I guess they knew if I was pissed off, the best thing to do was to leave me alone.

It wasn’t long before I could feel the sweat running down my back and a familiar burn in my chest and legs. When I finally hit stop on the machine and jumped off, Arizona came over.

“Man, you okay?”

I wiped my face and took a mouthful of water. “Not really.”

He eyed me cautiously. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” I said tightly. Then I sighed, frustrated with myself for being so bent out of shape over something so stupid. “My fucking therapist,” I started. “God, she makes me so fucking mad.”

Arizona smiled, as though relieved. “Man, I got half an hour spare. Want me to spot for you while you kick the shit out of the pads?”

I grinned at him. “You’d do that? Really?”

“Well, it’s either that or I could call Kira and tell him to come haul your ass outta here.”

I set down my towel and water bottle in the corner near the pads and scoffed at his joke. “Yeah, right.”

Arizona picked up a rectangle thigh pad. “I ain’t jokin’, Matt. I wouldn’t hesitate. I’ve seen you pissed off and I seen where it got ya. There’s no way I’d let you throw it all away again.”

His words threw me for a second. Not just because they were true, but because he was keeping an eye on me and if I even looked like having a setback, he’d be the first in line to help me.

“Come on,” he said, getting my attention. He patted the kicking pad before he lifted it against his body, bracing for impact. “Take it out on this instead. Kick the living shit outta this instead of beating yourself up. I can take it.”

I kicked the padded mat Arizona held, not too hard, and he shook his head. “Come on! You can hit damn harder than that!” He squatted down a little, anchoring his centre of gravity, bracing himself. “Don’t hold back.”

I kicked again, harder this time—two short taps with my right leg, my shin hitting square on the pad.

“Better,” he said. “Now kick like you mean it! You come in here wanting to beat the shit out of yourself because your doctor pissed you off, so fucking kick like you mean it.”

I grinned at him and he braced himself, grimacing a little as though my grin was familiar. And frightening.

And I let him have it.

I kicked high, low, hard and harder. Arizona lifted the padded mat in time with me, calling shots, correcting me, urging me to let it go. When I’d kicked enough, he called, “Hands” and with bare knuckles, I punched, jabbed, deflected.

“Keep on your toes,” Arizona grunted at me, like I was one of his students, and for the next thirty minutes, I had a full cardio workout, and one-on-one stress and anger management.

Arizona threw the mat into the corner and wiped his face down with his towel. He’d had as good a workout as me. “Fuckin’ hell, man,” he said, taking a deep breath. “What the hell did she say to you to get you so pissed?”

I snorted out a laugh. “She just presses my buttons,” I said. Then, figuring I owed him more than a blasé brush-off, I explained, “Every time I talk about what I’m doing here, I get attitude from her.”

Arizona frowned. “What for? Leaving the police and now doing this?” He glanced around the gym.

“Nah, more to do with the kids.”

He stared at me. “What the hell?”

“I know!” I said, running my towel over my face and through my hair. I took a sip of my water. “I’m trying to do something right here, ya know? And it’s like she’s judging everything I do.” I shook my head and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m imagining it.”

“Well, how angry you were wasn’t imagining it. I’ve seen that look on your face before.”

I laughed, a little embarrassed. “Thanks,” I said. “You really helped me out. I owe you one.”

This time Arizona laughed. “Man, you don’t owe me nothin’,” he said.

A few kids came in, waiting for their afternoon session with me.

Arizona nodded towards them. “You feelin’ up to runnin’ class for these guys? ‘Cause I can put ’em through their paces.”

I gave him a smile and held my fist out to his. “Nah, man. I’m good. But thanks.”

He bumped my fist with his. “Okay, see ya tomorrow,” he said, then went off to talk to Amil.

I herded the kids into our usual corner and ran through my class with the sixteen kids that had turned up. It was a good, full session with a lot of familiar faces, though Claude and Ruby didn’t show.

Afterwards, I grabbed a shower and caught up on emails while I waited for Kira to finish work. When it got late and Amil and I were closing up, Kira came in and I saw him quickly scan the club, presumably looking for Claude and Ruby. “Hey,” he said with a smile. “Kids not here?”

I shook my head. “Haven’t seen them since lunch time.”

Amil walked over to us, and gave me a hesitant, apologetic smile, but spoke to Kira, “Arizona wanted me to tell you, in case Matt didn’t, that Matt here was really pissed off this afternoon, and that he hadn’t worked out like that since…since…well, before, when things weren’t so great.”

Kira turned to face me, but I was staring at Amil. “Man, really? What the hell?”

Amil put both his hands up, palms forward. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just doin’ what the big fella told me to do.” Then Amil shrugged. “He was worried, man.”

So now of course Kira was worried too. “Matt, what happened?”

“It was nothing, really,” I told him. “My session with Tamara wasn’t exactly progressive. Or even amicable, really.”

Kira still looked alarmed. “Are you okay?”

His initial response wasn’t about the appointment, but if I was okay. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I reassured him. “I came here, hit the treadmill to run it off, and Arizona put me on the punching pads. He held them while I punched and kicked the crap out them until I felt better.”

“Did it work?”

I nodded. “Sure did.”

Kira smiled, relieved. “We can talk about Tamara later, if you want?”

“Sure,” I said, returning his smile. I didn’t want him to worry unnecessarily.

He looked around the empty gym, then to Amil and then to me. “You guys done?”

“Yep. Just let me switch off the lights in my office,” I said. We double checked the windows, locked the doors and left the gym with Amil.

When we were almost to the car, Kira turned around. I spun on my heel, looking for whatever he’d heard. I hadn’t heard anything besides traffic and the sounds of a usual LA night, but Kira obviously had. He was staring towards the lane at the end of the block.

“Matt!” a little voice called out, which I heard just fine this time. Then two small figures ran out of the darkness—Claude first, wearing my old backpack and a huge smile. Ruby followed his sister, but looked a little less enthused. “Thought we’d missed you,” Claude said. “We were late and I told Ruby you’d be gone if we didn’t run.”

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound like I wasn’t a mix of relieved they were here, and worried about where they’d been. “I was gonna buy you guys dinner. Thought you stood me up!”

Kira glanced at his watch, and I was sure he had a hundred questions he
wanted
to ask, but instead he settled for, “You two crashing at our place?”

Claude looked up at him. “Is you gonna cook that nikujaga?”

Kira’s eyes widened. “You remembered what it was called?”

“’Course,” she replied simply.

Kira opened the door to the back seat of the car. “Come on. Get in,” he said. “It’s late and the air is getting cool.”

After the two kids had climbed in, Kira walked around to the driver’s door. He looked over the top of the car at me with an expression that clearly asked what-the-freakin’-hell-are-we-doing?

I shrugged and got into the car. As soon as Kira climbed in behind the steering wheel, Claude said, “Still no ice cream, right?”

“Right,” Kira replied, pulling the car out into traffic.

Claude spoke cheerfully, mostly bringing up the last time she stayed with us, obviously for Ruby’s benefit. He would give little more than a slight nod and a tight smile, clearly here with us at his sister’s insistence. He was a tough kid, but if Claude wanted something and it was in his power to give it to her, he wouldn’t hesitate.

Even at home, I tried to prompt conversation with Ruby, but all I got in return was closed, clipped answers. He sat with Claude on the sofa, while she chatted brightly and Ruby looked like a caged rabbit.

“Claude?” Kira called out from the kitchen. “Can you come here, please?”

She looked up at Ruby. “He probably wants me to set the table,” she said, almost beaming with self-importance.

After she’d walked into the next room, I sighed to get Ruby’s attention. “You’re liking your training sessions with Arizona?”

He nodded once. “Yeah.”

“Had a chance to look at the schoolwork yet?”

“Nope,” he said quietly.

“We might do that tomorrow, hey?” I said. “In the morning, we can go through all those papers and I can help you with where to start.”

Ruby nodded. “’Kay.”

Claude walked back into the room, carefully carrying two coffee mugs. She was grinning as she put them on the dining table. “Rube, we got hot chocolates. Kira said it’s the proper stuff, not that awful stuff at the gym.” Then she quickly looked at me. “He told me not to say that.”

I laughed, and when Kira came out carrying two plates, he was smiling too. “Thanks, Claude.”

“That’s okay.” She grinned cheerfully as she sat at the table.

Kira put the two plates down. “Toasted ham, cheese and tomato sandwiches,” he told them. “Not quite the nikujaga I cooked the other night, but it’ll have to do.”

“It’ll do just fine,” Ruby said. He stood up and walked over to the table then sat down. “Thank you very much,” he said humbly.

He was so uncomfortable, it was radiating out of him. Kira gently clapped his hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “No need to thank me. Just be thankful Matt didn’t cook it.”

I sat down at the table and sighed. “I’m not that bad a cook,” I said. “I mean, I’m not great…” Then I had an idea. “Squirt, tomorrow morning, you and me are on breakfast duty. We’ll show ’em I can cook just fine.”

Her eyes lit up, and she spoke with her mouth full, “What are we making?”

“Ruby? Any suggestions?” I asked.

The toasted sandwich stopped halfway to his mouth. “Me? Um… It’s not up to me.”

Not wanting to push him too much, I looked at Claude. “Okay, squirt. Your choice.”

“Pancakes!”

“Pancakes?” Kira repeated.

Claude nodded then bit into her sandwich and chewed quickly. “With syrup and everything.”

Kira’s nose scrunched up. “Pancakes aren’t very nutritious.”

“Hey,” I said to Kira with a smile. I motioned between me and Claude. “
We’re
cooking breakfast. So pancakes it is.”

Kira rolled his eyes, ignoring me and Claude completely and spoke to Ruby instead. “Is the sandwich good?” he asked, earning a nod from Ruby. “I’ll make you both another, then you guys can have a shower and get cleaned up, watch some TV before bed. How’s that sound?”

Ruby swallowed the last of his sandwich, took a sip of the hot chocolate and nodded. “That sounds good,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

Kira made more sandwiches, while Claude and I discussed breakfast. Ruby was quiet again, just sitting there in silence, a stark contrast to his loud and chatty sister.

And when they’d eaten enough and showered, they moved to the sofa and, as Kira had suggested, watched some TV. It wasn’t long until Claude was curled into her brother, sound asleep, but Ruby bit back yawns and blinked back the tiredness he obviously felt. It was as though he was too scared to close his eyes. It was sad that a thirteen-year-old kid was so wary, so downtrodden by life, that he’d fight sleep all night so his kid sister could rest peacefully.