finally finished her speech, Jenna thought she’d be released to go to her room, but she’d forgotten another Harmony House ritual.
‘Now, you’ll see Doctor Paley for your intake interview,’ Landers informed her.
There hadn’t been a ‘Dr Paley’ the last time she was here. It had been a Dr Colby then. But now that she’d been reminded of it, Jenna knew what was coming.
Dr Paley was a smiling, plump, bald man in a white coat.
‘Hello, Jenna,’ he said jovially. Jenna grunted in return. Dr Paley didn’t seem dismayed – she figured he probably never got much more than a grunt from the young people he dealt with here.
With a nurse by his side, he listened to Jenna’s heart, took her pulse and blood pressure, looked in her ears and down her throat – all the usual stuff. Everything must have checked out OK, because he kept smiling.
When he finished, he told the nurse that she could leave, and invited Jenna to take a seat across from him at his desk.
‘Let’s have a little chat,’ he said, opening a folder, which Jenna presumed was her file. Jenna didn’t bother to stifle her groan. The last time she’d been here the doctor had only been interested in her physical state. This was something new.
‘You’re a shrink,’ she muttered.
His perpetual smile broadened. ‘Well, I’m a medical doctor who specializes in mental as well as physical health. I provide therapy for the residents here.’
‘There’s nothing mentally wrong with me,’ Jenna declared. ‘I’m not crazy.’
‘You don’t have to be crazy to benefit from therapy,’ the doctor said. ‘You’ve been sent here, to Harmony House, which indicates that you have some problems that need to be examined and resolved. I believe the best way to deal with problems like yours is to talk about them.’
Yeah, like you have any idea what my real problems are, Jenna thought bitterly.
The questions started.
‘How’s life at home, Jenna?’
‘Fine.’
‘I see that your mother’s been through a rehabilitation programme. How do you feel about that?’
‘Fine.’
‘And I see you started a new school recently. How is that going for you?’
‘Fine.’
‘Have you made friends there?’
‘Fine . . . I mean, yes.’
He turned a page in her file. ‘I see you’re taking geometry, English, geography . . .’ he paused. ‘What’s this “gifted” class?’
Jenna sat up straighter. ‘It’s just this little special class for kids who are . . . gifted.’
‘Gifted in what way?’
Jenna tried not to squirm. ‘Different ways.’
‘What’s your gift? Are you a computer genius? Do you play a musical instrument?’
‘No. It’s not that kind of a gift.’ She knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with that, so she tried to remember what she’d once heard Tracey tell someone. ‘Actually, I don’t know why they call it “gifted”. Each student has something – something sort of unusual going on. Like one guy, he’s in a wheelchair. And there’s another guy who used to be a big athlete, but he had an accident and he can’t play sports any more.’
The doctor nodded. ‘And what’s unusual about you?’
‘I’m a juvenile delinquent.’
‘I see . . .’ He eyed Jenna keenly. He wasn’t smiling now. ‘I’d like to hear more about this class.’
Jenna shifted in her chair. ‘I’m kind of tired.’
The smile returned. ‘Of course – you should go to your room and get settled. We’ll talk another time.’
Finally, she was released. When she left the doctor’s office, a woman with a tag identifying her as a ‘resident assistant’ escorted her to her room on the second floor.
‘You’re lucky,’ the woman told her. ‘We’re not completely booked right now so you don’t have a roommate.’
That was a major relief. The last time Jenna had been here, she’d been stuck in a room with a twelve-year-old shoplifter who cried incessantly. Jenna thought she was incredibly stupid – what good would crying do in a
‘Now, you’ll see Doctor Paley for your intake interview,’ Landers informed her.
There hadn’t been a ‘Dr Paley’ the last time she was here. It had been a Dr Colby then. But now that she’d been reminded of it, Jenna knew what was coming.
Dr Paley was a smiling, plump, bald man in a white coat.
‘Hello, Jenna,’ he said jovially. Jenna grunted in return. Dr Paley didn’t seem dismayed – she figured he probably never got much more than a grunt from the young people he dealt with here.
With a nurse by his side, he listened to Jenna’s heart, took her pulse and blood pressure, looked in her ears and down her throat – all the usual stuff. Everything must have checked out OK, because he kept smiling.
When he finished, he told the nurse that she could leave, and invited Jenna to take a seat across from him at his desk.
‘Let’s have a little chat,’ he said, opening a folder, which Jenna presumed was her file. Jenna didn’t bother to stifle her groan. The last time she’d been here the doctor had only been interested in her physical state. This was something new.
‘You’re a shrink,’ she muttered.
His perpetual smile broadened. ‘Well, I’m a medical doctor who specializes in mental as well as physical health. I provide therapy for the residents here.’
‘There’s nothing mentally wrong with me,’ Jenna declared. ‘I’m not crazy.’
‘You don’t have to be crazy to benefit from therapy,’ the doctor said. ‘You’ve been sent here, to Harmony House, which indicates that you have some problems that need to be examined and resolved. I believe the best way to deal with problems like yours is to talk about them.’
Yeah, like you have any idea what my real problems are, Jenna thought bitterly.
The questions started.
‘How’s life at home, Jenna?’
‘Fine.’
‘I see that your mother’s been through a rehabilitation programme. How do you feel about that?’
‘Fine.’
‘And I see you started a new school recently. How is that going for you?’
‘Fine.’
‘Have you made friends there?’
‘Fine . . . I mean, yes.’
He turned a page in her file. ‘I see you’re taking geometry, English, geography . . .’ he paused. ‘What’s this “gifted” class?’
Jenna sat up straighter. ‘It’s just this little special class for kids who are . . . gifted.’
‘Gifted in what way?’
Jenna tried not to squirm. ‘Different ways.’
‘What’s your gift? Are you a computer genius? Do you play a musical instrument?’
‘No. It’s not that kind of a gift.’ She knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with that, so she tried to remember what she’d once heard Tracey tell someone. ‘Actually, I don’t know why they call it “gifted”. Each student has something – something sort of unusual going on. Like one guy, he’s in a wheelchair. And there’s another guy who used to be a big athlete, but he had an accident and he can’t play sports any more.’
The doctor nodded. ‘And what’s unusual about you?’
‘I’m a juvenile delinquent.’
‘I see . . .’ He eyed Jenna keenly. He wasn’t smiling now. ‘I’d like to hear more about this class.’
Jenna shifted in her chair. ‘I’m kind of tired.’
The smile returned. ‘Of course – you should go to your room and get settled. We’ll talk another time.’
Finally, she was released. When she left the doctor’s office, a woman with a tag identifying her as a ‘resident assistant’ escorted her to her room on the second floor.
‘You’re lucky,’ the woman told her. ‘We’re not completely booked right now so you don’t have a roommate.’
That was a major relief. The last time Jenna had been here, she’d been stuck in a room with a twelve-year-old shoplifter who cried incessantly. Jenna thought she was incredibly stupid – what good would crying do in a
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