Angel Steps & Other Stories

AN EXCERPT:

Angel Steps
Chapter One
Krystal Summer sat back in the counseling chair and looked at the
man before her. They were opposites in so many ways. She had straight
brown hair. His was blond and curly. She was short with dark features
and brown eyes. He was tall and blue-eyed like a surfer who was far
from the ocean.
He was helpless. She was in control. Both were in their early
30's and one problem brought them together.
"I feel naked," Shawn whispered.
"Before you start I need to share two disclaimers,“ Krystal added
with a glance at his chart. "To start with, you're on our budget plan.
"What does that mean?"
"You agree to a low fee so that we can use your sessions as a
teaching tool." She looked over her glasses. "This is a
college-related counseling center and I'm one of
their teachers."
"Okay."
"Also, I believe in radical confrontations with reality."
"What does that mean?" Shawn tried to swallow.
"First we find the wound and then rip off the scabs to start the healing."
"Don't know if I like the sound of that."
She tired to smile and then closed his file. "It's not for everyone."
Shawn squirmed in his plastic chair. He wore a blue knit shirt
and twirled a pair of sun glasses. His jeans were old and faded.
Krystal looked down at the flip flops on his feet.
"Whatever," Shawn added. "Nothing can be worse than the pain I feel."
"Very well." She swung open his file and didn't notice his eyes
moving across her clothing.
She wore a dark blue skirt and low heals. Her shirt was white,
pressed and buttoned to the top.
"Says here you work as a journalist?" She looked over her glasses again.
"Yeah. Whatever." He stopped twirling the glasses.
"Want to talk about it?"
"Well." He sat up and focused on her with a squint. "There's not
much to talk about. I'm an editor."
Krystal raised her eyebrows again. "That so? What publication?"
"Doctor Talk". He pursed his lips. "Not the Wall Street Journal
by a long shot."
She smiled and then straightened her lips in a line like a
hyphen. "Let's get back to that talk about feeling naked."
"Yeah." His eyebrows lifted. "Happens in my dreams. A lot. I'll
be out in public and realize my clothes are gone."
"In your sleep." She pointed her pen.
"Course."
She stabbed her pen again at him. "What happens then?"
"I spend the rest of my dream trying to cover up. It's crazy."
"You got that."
"What?" He sat up again.
She looked at him over her glasses. "I mean... that's how I
would feel also." She paused again with a glance at his chart. "So are
you able to link this to anything in your
past?"
"I pretty much keep my clothes on in public."
"You know what I mean."
He took a deep breath. "I've thought a lot about this. My work
involves a lot of heat from readers." He stopped and focused on
Krystal again. "Doctors can be difficult people."
"Absolutely."
"It always bothers me when they make personal attacks."
"As in..."
"You know." He took another deep breath. "They'll write or call
with some petty comment about me and my ability."
"Makes you wonder why they would subscribe if they felt that way."
"Sure." He let his eyes move across the room. It was a simple
office with wall paper that looked like acoustical tile. The desk
behind Krystal was empty, though. There was
no pictures or diplomas in frames. Instead there was a curtain off to
the side. She watched the movement of his eyes.
"You were talking about difficult readers."
"Yeah." He paused again. "Is this your office?"
"Why do you ask that?"
"I'm a journalist. And I was wondering what kind of person would
have an office that had no personal items in it."
"Let's keep the focus on you."
"Are you single?" He looked at her left hand.
"You're stalling."
"You can't stop the creative mind." He smiled but it was weak and
helpless looking.
"To answer your question I am single and no this is not my private office."
"Have you ever been in counseling?"
"Yes. Many times."
"Is this what you wanted for your life?"
She leaned up in her chair. "Why the talk about me?"
"I don't know." He leaned back again and started twirling his
glasses. "You're an attractive woman. I always try to imagine what
people are like."
"Sounds like a good quality for a writer."
"Ever been in love?"
Krystal stopped her pen and looked up. "What does that have to do
with anything?"
"Because you feel helpless at times like that."
"I see. This seems to be a theme in your life."
"In my mind." He sat up closer to her. "I'm on a stage and people
from all over watch me."
"How does that make you feel?" She started to smile again. "And
what if it were true?"
"Oh wow." Shawn sat back again. "There's so much in me that's not right."
"You feel bad about that." She stopped writing in her notes again.
"Do I hear some expectation that you need to have it all together?"
"Don't know. But I do know one thing." He stopped twirling his
glasses again. "The pain is there and it's real."
Krystal lifted her pen and started to bite it. She then set the
notebook down. "Well we're just about done with our first session and
I'm about to do something that will take
you out of your comfort zone."
"Like what--ask me out?" He smiled back.
She lifted her eyebrows again and got up in a slow movement. She
then pulled the curtain back to reveal a large crowd of college
students watching him from auditorium seats.
"WHAT THE…?" Shawn scanned the rows full of people that were
taking notes and now smiling up at him.
"Anything you want to add?" Krystal waved out at the crowd.
Several hands went up. One was a coed about 19 and Krystal pointed at
her in response. The girl got up.
"I think it's significant that he tried to redirect your
questions about his work."
"My thoughts also." Krystal then pointed at a boy in the back. He
stood up and smiled.
"I think he has the hots for you, Doctor."
She waved him off. "Enough of that. Make sure to read chapter
three for the test on Friday. That does it for us today. Have a good
one."
Shawn was ashen-colored when she started back to pick up her notebook.
"Isn't this unethical and unprofessional?" He remained in his seat.
"In a traditional sense, yes." She slid her chair around and
pushed it under the desk. "But you're in the budget plan and agreed in
advance for public disclosure."
He lifted his hand palm up in protest. "But I had no idea this is
what you meant."
Krystal took her notebook and held it close to her chest. "I'll
understand if you don't want to come back. Most don't."
"Now I understand what you meant about 'ripping the scab off'."
She took a deep breath and started out. "Have a good day Mr..."
"Rivers. Shawn Rivers."
She left the room and he leaned over with his head in his hands.