Bailey By Rory M. Chapter 5
"Can you help me with this?"
"No"
"Well why the hell not?"
"Why should I? You just want to touch me."
"I'd never touch your dirty ass in a million years. Fuck you, Shane. I'll do it myself."
Bailey picked up the stack of books with trembling arms (he still was weak from his ordeal) and retreated from the room. Once in his own bedroom he dropped the textbooks the tutor had dropped off for him and lay on his bed, tears again coming to his eyes. He cursed himself for becoming so emotional again, that's all he seemed to do lately. His brother had been tormenting him like this for days now, and it was wearing heavily on him.
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"Bailey wake up, you've got to be ready by eleven." Karen said, jostling her son from his rest. "I've got to drop you off at Dr. Lavine's and then get to work. Come on sweetie, you can't be late for the first appointment; it's not a good first impression.
"Why do I have to go, I talk to Father Raike already, Grandma says..."
"You only like what your grandmother says when it benefits your laziness."
"Mother!! I don't want to..."
"You promised me and your father you'd try it, now come on, breakfast will be ready in 10 minutes. Oh, and do something with your hair, you look like Greg bride on acid."
"Mom...that's weak." He hated his mother's references to pop culture; they were so tacky.
Bailey got up and wandered across the hall for a quick shower. No fan of ever getting up before 10, he had a quick plan of bathing down by the time he was 14; he was the king of hygienically multitasking. He washed his hair and brushed his teeth at the same time, then he lathered up and swished the mouth wash, then lastly he rinsed, spit, washed his face and was done...all in the span of five minutes. Shaving was a rarity, maybe every 2 weeks or so. He was trying to grow sideburns, but his grandmother made him shave them because "they looked ridiculous." In the end they really wouldn't have looked good, his hair was too curl and his face to baby, he would have looked freakish.
Clean, clothed and hungry he sauntered down to the dining room and sat in his place, at an unusually empty table. His brother hours earlier had already left for school, his father for work, and his grandparent for a shopping trip in New York, which was what they did often on weekdays. Very rarely would they come home with much, but they enjoyed it.
Faced with two eggs and a bowl of oatmeal Bailey quietly dug into his meal as his thoughts drifted to what was coming today. His parents (much to his chagrin) had decided for him to send him to a shrink. To say the least, he was none to pleased, but he didn't have much to say in the matter, and at least this was the alternative to being thrown out or committed. Finished with breakfast, he slipped on his jacket and followed his mother out to the car, all the while quiet.
"Bail, this is going to help you, alright?"
"You say that like you're so sure."
"There is no need for that attitude, young man."
"Sorry mother."
"When I pick you up we'll go out to lunch, ok?"
"Don't you have to work?"
"It's my program, it runs around my schedule. Besides, that's what all those undergrads I don't pay are for." She tousled his hair lovingly as he cracked the first smile she had seen in days.
"So lunch, then?"
"That sounds good, as long as you're paying."
"Well, considering someone doesn't have a job.."
"Mom..."
"Yeah?"
"Grrrrr"
"You're so cute when you do that."
"MOOOOM!!!!"
"WHAT?"
"If you don't stop I'm going to ask this guy to lock me up."
"You're such a killjoy, Bailey." He smiled innocently at his mother, which got him a playful smack in the shoulder.
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"Mr. McCorristin, you can go in now." What a delightful receptionist Bailey thought, the instinct to punch her or run away had crossed his mind a few times as he crossed the waiting room to the large door that was the doctor's office. Dr. Lavine sat behind a desk looking through a manila folder. From Bailey's point of view he couldn't have been much taller than him, but was quite heavy-set with a larger nose and emotionless brown eyes.
"Ahh, Bailey is it? Welcome, just take a seat in the blue chair." Bailey warily did as he was told and sat in the oversized blue armchair. The doctor came out from behind the desk and sat in the chair adjacent to him of similar style. Bailey managed to look at everything in the room except for the doctor. He twitched his fingers, repositioned himself, and dug his heals into the carpet waiting for the silence to end; the doctor just stared on and waited.
"Well, why don't I start the conversation then? I'm Dr. Lavine, and your parents have told me that you've been having a rough time lately. Your charts from St. Francis tell me that you tried to commit suicide about two weeks ago, is that right?"
Bailey cleared his throat and looked on at the doctor like a dear caught in the headlights of a Mac truck. "Umm...yeah."
"Well, do you want to talk about why you did it? Or am I to gather your parents sent you here so I can baby-sit you."
"I don't know what...you want me to say."
"You don't have to say anything, I'm here to give you something, not you to give me. DO you want to start by telling me why you did it?"
"I thought my parents already did."
"No, I like to find out my patients' histories from them, I'm helping you, not your parents. Well, at least not until you start family counseling next month." Bailey smirked.
"I was just scared. I didn't know what else to do, at the time. I regret it now, I really do. I'm not going to try again." He crossed his fingers hoping that that would appease the questions and be the end of it.
"That's nice, but there is always a reason for taking such a drastic measure, what were you so scared of?"
Bailey gulped. "I was scared of coming out."
"So you're gay and you're having trouble coping with it?"
"You say it like it's no big deal."
"It isn't, you're the one treating it like a disease, not me. How long have you known you were gay?"
"I guess since middle school or so, I've always felt strange."
"Was it hard for you to admit to yourself that you were homosexual?"
"I tried to change but I couldn't. I just didn't think my family would understand."
"And have you told them since?"
"Yes, Sunday night, actually. They took it ok I guess, my brother is being a bastard about it."
"Is he being mean to you about being gay? Slander, violence?"
"Just name calling and rudeness, it's really a pain in the ass."
"How old is he?"
"Shane is almost 14."
"Does he know anything about what being gay is?"
"He thinks I'm going to jump his bones or something." The doctor smirked.
"Well, I think he needs time to readjust to this information. Do you remember at your age not understanding the feelings you were having? Well, he probably feels the same way, but not in a 'Why me?' context, but 'Why my big brother?' He probably looked up to you, and still does, he just doesn't know what this means to him."
"I don't really know what it means to me, let alone him."
"Have you researched anything about who you are? When you were figuring out you were gay, how did you know?"
"I didn't really look it up if that's what you're asking, I just had a gut feeling. I can't really go anywhere and ask what it's like, I don't even know anyone else who's gay."
"You feel very isolated in your sexuality, don't you?"
"In everything, pretty much. My parents and grandparents have been good, though. I just don't have a lot to go by, you know? I just feel that if anyone knew I'd be beaten into a pulp, no one around here understands."
"Doesn't Princeton High have a Gay Straight Alliance? Why don't you go to the meetings?"
"I don't go to Princeton High, I got to Notre Dame."
"Ahh, well then that explains a lot."
"What do you mean?"
"How much do you rely on your religion, Bailey, I'm assuming Catholic."
"I'm practicing, if that's what you mean."
"Do you think that the Catholic Church has anything to do with you feeling this way about yourself?"
"You're not telling me anything I don't already know."
"Alright, alright, no need to get upset. We'll get back to that another time, but I want you to look into something for me."
"What?"
"Have you ever heard of HITOPS? It's a clinic in Princeton that cator's to sexual awareness and clinical help for are teens."
"What about it?"
"They have a program there called 'First and Third', basically it's a meeting for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, and questioning teens. They talk about a lot of stuff; they've even let me sit in on a few meetings. More importantly they talk about a wide variety of things, including gays in religion and coping with coming out. I really suggest you go, a few of my other patients also attend, and it's your peer group. They meet on every first and third Saturday of the month, hence the name. I'll give you the number If you want to get more information, at least look into it."
"I'll see." Bailey was getting tired of this conversation.
"Well, I'll see you next Monday, for now your hour is up. Bailey, try to talk to your brother, even if he doesn't want to."
"I'll try, but he's hopeless."
Bailey walked to the door and let himself out, undecided on what had just transpired, and just relieved to be leaving. He met up with his mother in the waiting room, who was talking to the receptionist. She greeted him with a smile, and then quickly parted with her conversation to follow her quickly retreating son out the door.
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"So, how'd it go?" Karen asked Bailey, who seemed to be staring off into space ever since they left the doctor's office. Now seated at the small table in the diner, she was uncertain whether to press on a conversation.
"It went ok." He took a sip of his water.
"Just ok?"
"No breakthroughs mom, sorry to burst your bubble."
"Bailey, I'm just trying to talk to you."
"I'm sorry mom, I just don't know what to make of it myself."
"That's alright, it's new."
"Yeah, I don't think I like it, though. He's already trying to get me into group therapy."
Karen lightly chuckled. "What do you mean 'group therapy?'"
"He wants me to go to the HITOPS clinic for a gay youth meeting."
"What's so wrong with that?"
"Mom, I don't want to sit around a table talking about what makes me so gay."
"How do you know that's what they talk about."
"I...ok, whatever."
"I think you should go."
"I already agreed to the therapy, don't you think you're pushing it? Besides, what if someone there knows me from school, I'll be outed."
"Don't you think if they're there they'll have the same fears as you? I'm sure they wouldn't do that considering they're in your shoes."
"I don't know, mom."
"We'll look into it later, ok?
"Alright."
With that they continued to have a relatively nice lunch. Afterwards Bailey was tired and wanted to go home and snooze a little before the home instruction tutor came by, an obvious perk to the situation. He got an hour and a half of tutoring a day; he didn't see a point in ever going back to school.
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The following Saturday Bailey found himself climbing a flight of stares looking for the second room on the left...
To be continued...