Confessions of a Murder Suspect

31

Our family’s psychologist, the noted—and controversial—Dr. Florence Keyes, was in the living room when I got there. She was talking with Samantha, who had called for the session.

Dr. Keyes looked up when I entered the room and said, “Hi, Tandy, sweetie. Come sit down.”

We’d known Dr. Keyes our entire lives, it seemed. She’d been training all of us to “deal with” our emotions since we were old enough to throw tantrums. We each saw her once a month, on different days—I was every second Tuesday—but never in a group setting like this. I wondered if it would make things more difficult to do this together.

Hugo had been doing pretty well with mastering his emotions, somehow channeling them all into his physical strength. Matthew stopped going to sessions the second he graduated from high school, which probably explained why he’s now so prone to outbursts—say, for example, the Heisman incident. He didn’t used to be that way.

And poor Harry… After eight years of intensive therapy, Dr. Keyes asked to start seeing him once a week. She just couldn’t break through to him. Harry told me she never tired of coming up with new theories and methods for working with him. I’d observed the way she stared at him—almost like he was a great, raw diamond, just waiting for her to cut and polish to her liking. He was her greatest professional challenge.

I had a feeling Samantha was particularly concerned about how Harry was going to handle our parents’ deaths. He was already like a ticking emo bomb. When was he going to explode?

As for me, well, I was Dr. Keyes’s star patient. I was virtually a living, breathing manifestation of her doctoral thesis, “Binding the Soul: One Doctor’s Quest to Eradicate Emotionality in the Interest of Moving Humanity into its Next Evolutionary Phase.”

Once we were all assembled, Dr. Keyes settled carefully into the Pork Chair. She smiled at the freaked-out lot of us who faced her across the shark-tank coffee table.

“Before we start talking,” she said, “let’s remember that you’re all going to be okay. You’ll get through this. Your parents have provided for you. You are all smart, capable children who have been prepared for anything and everything—even this, the ultimate tragedy. You are strong. Stronger than most adults. There’s nothing to fear. Believe in yourselves!”

There was a lot of shuffling and staring.

“Do you all believe in yourselves?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Hugo chirped. It was all a game to him.

“Perfect. Who else believes in himself? Matthew? I haven’t seen you in so long, dear. How have you been?”

“Our parents were just murdered, for God’s sake,” Matthew said, leaning forward, clenching his fists. “I hated Malcolm and Maud. But no one had the right to do that to them. No one!”

Dr. Keyes said, “Matthew, I understand. You have every right to be angry. But let’s remember the exercises we did together years ago, dear, to dissolve the anger, rid yourself of this poison. It’s all mind over matter—”

“Murdering two people in their bed is unconscionable. I’m mad enough to kill someone myself. And I wouldn’t be circumspect about it. If I found the killer, I’d kill him in plain sight.”

“Matty!” Dr. Keyes drew in a sharp breath. “Clearly you and I need to have a private session before your irrational rage gets out of control—”

“Irrational? Are you kidding me? I’m done. That’s it. And don’t call me Matty—Florence!”

Matty stormed out of the room. It killed me to see my invincible brother in pain like that. But Dr. Keyes was right: We needed to take this situation in hand. I took slow, deep breaths, remembering one of the many techniques the doctor had taught me.

Dr. Keyes nodded quietly at Matthew’s departure, not allowing it to upset her, and then asked Hugo to tell us what he was feeling.

“Guilty. I should have heard the killer,” said Hugo. “I should have sent up a howl. I should’ve saved them.”

“You’re not a watchdog, Hugo. You’re a young boy,” Dr. Keyes said. “You weren’t responsible, sweetheart. There’s no reason to be upset with yourself. And if you start to feel anger and sadness, well, we know there are ways to deal with those emotions so that they don’t take over our lives.”

Hugo’s face was all red. I know my little brother so well; I could see that he was trying not to show his feelings, but I could feel his agony. He did need our parents, far more than the rest of us did.

I opened my arms and Hugo threw himself against me with such force that my chair tipped back and almost went over. As Hugo settled in next to me, I heard Harry start to sob.

The emotions in the room were out of control. Dr. Keyes pressed her lips tightly together. Then she looked my way.

“Boys, observe your sister. Notice how she’s been handling this tragedy, and take inspiration from her! Tandy knows that anguish and senseless, self-inflicted guilt don’t get us anywhere. They poison us.”

I winced at the unfortunate metaphor.

But Harry nodded and muscled his way into my embrace. “Tandy,” he said through his tears, “you are the best of all of us. You’ve always been the best.”

The best. Had I always been the best? When Malcolm or Maud whispered their plans for me or told me I had done well, I felt pride. Relief. Happiness. But now? I think what I was feeling was… gratitude. Harry’s words felt real to me, so much more than they ever had coming from our parents or Dr. Keyes.

“Dr. Keyes,” I said in a very quiet voice, “are you going to ask me how I feel?”

“Of course, Tandy.” Dr. Keyes gave me an encouraging smile. “Please do tell. That’s how we let it go. You’re so good at that. Show the boys how it’s done.”

I took another deep breath in the manner she’d taught me, but what I said wasn’t what she was expecting.

“I think that I’m very, very sad. And I’m not sure why, but that surprises me. Malcolm and Maud always told me that I didn’t have feelings, and that that was a good thing. Well, I’m feeling great sadness now. I think I’m feeling grief. It’s awful. But…” Tears came into my eyes. “I’m glad that I’m feeling this way. I’m really glad.”

Dr. Keyes looked rather dismayed. “Really, sweetheart?”

“Yes. And I don’t want to let it go. Not yet. I’m just starting to feel it. And it feels… I don’t know. Right, I guess. Maybe even… good.”

“It’s very natural to want to embrace these feelings, Tandy. But you, more than anyone else in this family, know that emotions disrupt our ability to function and focus—”

“Actually, Doctor, I’m focusing just fine. I’m thinking more clearly than I ever have before. And I mean no disrespect, but I think it’s time for you to leave.”

I ushered a stunned Dr. Keyes to the front door and shut it firmly behind her. And only then did I let myself smile, before I turned around and marched back to my brothers.