you wanting to discuss John Hilt?”
“I do,” he said. “I’m seeing John as a patient and I want to understand what other people think of him; I’ve only seen him a few times so far, but I’m finding it hard to break through his exterior. I’m not sure if it’s because of what happened, or something others have experienced?”
Liv nodded. “So, I taught John last year when he was in seventh grade. He’s a quiet kid, to tell you the truth. He and Harry were very, very close. Has he spoken about him much?”
“Yes, I know about their friendship.”
“Those two were inseparable. I’m not sure anyone got John to speak as much as Harry.”
“Did you teach Harry as well?”
“No, he was in …,” she paused for a second, remembering. “I think Mrs. Ware’s class. I got to see them a lot, though, because they both would come to my study hour.”
“What do you think about John?”
“As a student?”
“As a person,” Vondi said.
Liv leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing. “Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I feel like you’re not being honest about what you want here, and that’s going to make it hard for me to answer you. Why don’t you ask me what you really want to ask?”
Dr. Vondi sighed, leaning back in his own chair. “Fair enough. Did you ever feel there was anything odd about John? Anything that made you think he might be different than other kids?”
A few seconds passed before the teacher spoke.
“I guess I’d have to say yes, though I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone else this.”
“What’s different about him?”
Another silence, this one longer than the last. “I’ve only taught in this school, and it’s not a rough one. Very small free or reduced lunch population. I say that because most of the kids here are kind. You have the bickering and snobbery that comes with upper middle class, but you don’t have the pure anger that I think probably comes with lower class. I don’t know a lot about John’s family, but the difference, I think, is there. He has a ruthlessness about him that I haven’t seen in any other kids.”
She stopped talking and Vondi was about to say something, but she started again.
“He was kind to Harry. He was kind to me. To be honest, I never saw him do anything to anyone that wasn’t on the up and up. Still, John is different than the other kids walking around here.” She looked Vondi right in his eyes. “I would deny saying this, but he’s the type of person who might get off on hurting someone.”
* * *
“ I talked to Mrs. Tchen ,” Dr. Vondi said.
John’s brow furrowed. “My teacher from last year?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” John said.
“Because I wanted to learn more about you, I suppose,” Dr. Vondi said. He hadn’t been sure about this conversation at all, whether to have it or not, and if so, what he would say. Here they were, though, patient and doctor discussing what many would think of as a betrayal. Certainly Vondi had never done it with any of his other patients.
“What do you mean, learn about me?”
“Well, John, you’re not telling me much. You’re keeping things from me, and I think you know it.”
“So? I have to tell you everything?”
Dr. Vondi opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. In what other patient relationship had he demanded everything be told? And what right did he have to do it now?
“What do you want to know?” John said. “I don’t care that you went to Mrs. Tchen. She’s cool. But go ahead, what do you want to know?”
Vondi tried to control his facial muscles from showing surprise or eagerness, both of which filled his head like water fills a pool. Surprise at the honesty and eagerness to scratch the itch that seemed intent on driving him mad. An eagerness he didn’t understand, and honestly, didn’t want to—because he was scared of the reason causing him to feel this.
“I want to know why, in your dream, you can’t save Harry, and I
“I do,” he said. “I’m seeing John as a patient and I want to understand what other people think of him; I’ve only seen him a few times so far, but I’m finding it hard to break through his exterior. I’m not sure if it’s because of what happened, or something others have experienced?”
Liv nodded. “So, I taught John last year when he was in seventh grade. He’s a quiet kid, to tell you the truth. He and Harry were very, very close. Has he spoken about him much?”
“Yes, I know about their friendship.”
“Those two were inseparable. I’m not sure anyone got John to speak as much as Harry.”
“Did you teach Harry as well?”
“No, he was in …,” she paused for a second, remembering. “I think Mrs. Ware’s class. I got to see them a lot, though, because they both would come to my study hour.”
“What do you think about John?”
“As a student?”
“As a person,” Vondi said.
Liv leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing. “Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I feel like you’re not being honest about what you want here, and that’s going to make it hard for me to answer you. Why don’t you ask me what you really want to ask?”
Dr. Vondi sighed, leaning back in his own chair. “Fair enough. Did you ever feel there was anything odd about John? Anything that made you think he might be different than other kids?”
A few seconds passed before the teacher spoke.
“I guess I’d have to say yes, though I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone else this.”
“What’s different about him?”
Another silence, this one longer than the last. “I’ve only taught in this school, and it’s not a rough one. Very small free or reduced lunch population. I say that because most of the kids here are kind. You have the bickering and snobbery that comes with upper middle class, but you don’t have the pure anger that I think probably comes with lower class. I don’t know a lot about John’s family, but the difference, I think, is there. He has a ruthlessness about him that I haven’t seen in any other kids.”
She stopped talking and Vondi was about to say something, but she started again.
“He was kind to Harry. He was kind to me. To be honest, I never saw him do anything to anyone that wasn’t on the up and up. Still, John is different than the other kids walking around here.” She looked Vondi right in his eyes. “I would deny saying this, but he’s the type of person who might get off on hurting someone.”
* * *
“ I talked to Mrs. Tchen ,” Dr. Vondi said.
John’s brow furrowed. “My teacher from last year?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” John said.
“Because I wanted to learn more about you, I suppose,” Dr. Vondi said. He hadn’t been sure about this conversation at all, whether to have it or not, and if so, what he would say. Here they were, though, patient and doctor discussing what many would think of as a betrayal. Certainly Vondi had never done it with any of his other patients.
“What do you mean, learn about me?”
“Well, John, you’re not telling me much. You’re keeping things from me, and I think you know it.”
“So? I have to tell you everything?”
Dr. Vondi opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. In what other patient relationship had he demanded everything be told? And what right did he have to do it now?
“What do you want to know?” John said. “I don’t care that you went to Mrs. Tchen. She’s cool. But go ahead, what do you want to know?”
Vondi tried to control his facial muscles from showing surprise or eagerness, both of which filled his head like water fills a pool. Surprise at the honesty and eagerness to scratch the itch that seemed intent on driving him mad. An eagerness he didn’t understand, and honestly, didn’t want to—because he was scared of the reason causing him to feel this.
“I want to know why, in your dream, you can’t save Harry, and I
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