“The difference is, you’reaware.You recognize this deep inner longing for love and relationship and family. You’re doing what you can to maintain control of your life. Even when all these events strike you hard.”
He licked dry lips. “What do I do?”
“That’s not for me to tell you. That’s what you have to discover for yourself. What I can say is this. Your age, your situation, it’s crying out for you to find your identity. Who are you, Colin Eames? What do you stand for? You understand what I’m saying?”
“Sort of.”
She looked up at her bookshelf, frowned, and shook her head. “I could give you something to read, but you’re already living inside your books, maybe too much. What you need to do is keep on being aware. Develop a keener sense of observing yourself. And something more. Start to see others and their needs as equally valid.”
“They want me to be the house prefect.”
“There you go. That’s a good place to begin right there.”
“I don’t even know what it means.”
“Yes you do. But the idea of treating these other kids as important makes you uncomfortable. You want to be the guy on the lonely pedestal. Am I right?”
“No … That’s not …”
When he couldn’t finish his protest, she looked satisfied. “Identity. That’s the word you need to be studying. This is the first key to true and lasting love.”
Colin left the session feeling both vastly uncomfortable and utterly dissatisfied. As if he had expected she would offer one thing, and then had been forced to accept something of lesser value. A feeble alternative to a clear compass heading. Even thinking about what she’d said and the word she’d repeated,identity, left him prickly inside his own skin.
Even so, the nightmares ended. And they did not return.
CHAPTER27
That autumn Colin followed the election because his father was running. The experience was unpleasant in the extreme. Not really because of the vitriol, nor how the Obama and Romney campaigns dominated so much of his news feeds and online worlds. There was simply so much he could not understand. The anger in people’s voices and faces, the rigid stances they took, and the way they reacted with the poison of vipers to any opinion expressed by the other side. All because of a name, a word, a passing comment. Such days carried remnants of earlier times, being confronted with adult behavior he could not understand. Everyone seemed to have taken a side. Celeste, Arnold, Roland, Lucas, Mira, Ethan, Alexi, Regina, Sandrine. Everyone but him.
He stayed up on election night and watched his father be declared North Carolina’s newest United States congressman, representing the first district.
Obama remained in the White House. Signs dotting the streets disappeared. The constant barrage of television and online ads vanished. Gradually the news about his fatherdiminished, until it became just another vague murmur, a shadow mostly residing in Washington, D.C.
The changes instituted by Mrs. Fitzgerald’s replacement gradually infiltrated their world. Initially the Sojourn House students drifted about, as if they were afraid the former head might jump out of her office, scaring them back into her rigid version of life. Mrs. Dupree did not say anything. Nor did she institute any major new rules. But little by little the atmosphere within the house began to relax. Then at dinner one night, a girl laughed out loud. The entire room went quiet, all of the students wide-eyed and wondering. Gradually smiles bloomed everywhere.
Colin still wasn’t sure what it meant to be a house prefect. Even so, he met with the other students, exploring what the word might signify. He felt hugely uncomfortable, as if he were being called to play a false role, like he lied with every word. Then early in October, he finally hit upon an idea that seemed to work. At least with some of the students.
The concepts Celeste had discussed that last meeting continued to resonate. Especially that term she used.Identity.He was no closer to understanding what it meant for him personally. But as he looked at the other students, really looked, he thought he saw the same absence. They might not know the word, or even be aware of what wasn’t there.
It felt very strange at first, using what did not exist as the link to forging an intimacy. But he could see it working. Some of the younger ones came and lingered in his doorway before lights out. Speaking about nothing important. Yet clearly liking the fact that he was there and available. Afterward he found himself thinking back to his own first transformative moment, when Arnold had ignited in him that thrill. Because of the missing isosceles triangle.
The longer he followed this pattern, the more confident he became. Let the adults have the answers. Let them talk in straightforward terms. Shaping the confusion of life into something that made at least a little sense. Speak about end results and stability and patterns and next steps. That was not his job. He was there to show them it was okay to be confused. And frightened. And hurting. And lonely. He had been forced to name the shadows, just like them. He might be a step or two farther along the path. But he was still struggling. Just like them. What he could tell them was, he had identified the questions. Who he was. And where he was going. What true love might someday mean. He never spoke about any of that outright. Instead, he let it shape his responses.
The farther they moved into the new school year, the more certain he became that it worked.
His thirteenth birthday came and went with scarcely a whisper. Celeste wanted to take him out, Arnold mentioned it as well, but both seemed to find nothing strange about him saying he had other plans. To celebrate, he swam, then took an Uber to the mall, saw a film, ate a meal in the food court, went home. Wished himself a happy birthday standing in front of the mirror. Because it was.
Celeste’s work at the Wilmington Child Development Center had entered a new phase. She had her own office now, and was down at least a couple of days every week. Colin waited until her visit the first week in December to describe his work as a prefect. When he finished, she remained silent, studying him. Then, “You started on this when?”
“After we last talked. Sort of. It took a while to shape the idea.”
“Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“At first, I didn’t know what I was doing. I couldn’t even name it.”
“You were operating from gut instinct.”
“Pretty much.”