Good-looking kid. On a certain kind of sweet, convincing, college night, girls attracted to the brooding, sensitive type would be drawn to him.
Just as I began to retract my hand, he gripped it. His skin was cold, moist. Turning to his father, he grimaced, as if bracing for pain.
I said, “Richard, you and Stacy can wait out here or
walk around in the garden. Check back in an hour or so.”
“You don’t need to talk to me?” said Richard.
“Later.”
His lips seemed on the verge of a retort—making a point—but he thought better of it. “Okay then, how about we get coffee or something, Stace? We can make it into Westwood and back in an hour.”
“Sure, Daddy.”
I caught Stacy’s eye. She gave a tiny nod, letting me know seeing her brother was okay. I nodded back, the two of them left, and I closed the door behind Eric and myself and said, “This way.”
He followed me into the office, stood in the center of the room.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I said. “Or at least as comfortable as you can be.”
He moved to the nearest chair and lowered himself slowly.
“I can understand your not wanting to be here, Eric. So if—”
“No, I want to be here.” A big man’s voice flowed out of the cupid’s mouth. Richard’s baritone, even more incongruous. He flexed his neck. “I deserve to be here. I’m rucked up.” He fingered a shirt button. “That’s absurd, isn’t it?” he said. “The way I just phrased that. The way we use ‘fuck’ as a pejorative. Supposedly the most beautiful act in the world and we use it that way.” Sickly smile. “Scroll back and edit: I’m dysfunctional. Now you’re supposed to ask in what way.”
“In what way?”
“Isn’t your job finding out?”
“Yup,” I said.
“Good deal, your job,” he said, looking around the office. “No need for any equipment, just your psyche and the patient’s encountering each other in the great affective void, hoping for a collision of insight.” The briefest smile. “As you can see, I’ve had intro psych.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Nice relief from the cold, cruel world of supply and demand. One thing did bother me, though. You people put so much emphasis upon function and dysfunction but pay no attention to guilt and expiation.”
“Too value-free for you?” I said.
“Too incomplete. Guilt’s a virtue—maybe the cardinal virtue. Think about it: what else is going to motivate us bipeds to behave with proper restraint? What else prevents society from sinking into mass, entropic fuckupedness?”
His left leg crossed over his right and his shoulders loosened. Using big words relaxed him. I imagined his first, precocious utterances, met with astonishment, then cheers. Achievements piling up, expectations exceeded.
I said, “Guilt as a virtue.”
“What other virtue is there? What else keeps us civilized? Assuming we are civilized. Highly open to debate.”
“There are degrees of civilization,” I said.
He smiled. “You probably believe in altruism for its own sake. Good deeds carried out for the intrinsic satisfaction. I think life’s essentially an avoidance paradigm: people do things to avoid being punished.”
“Does that come from personal experience?”
He shifted back in the chair. “Well, well, well. Isn’t that a bit directive, considering I’ve been here all of five minutes and it’s not exactly a voluntary transaction?”
I said nothing.
He said, “Get too pushy and I could revert to the treatment I gave my father when he chanced upon my meditation spot.”
“Which is?”
“Total freeze-out—what you guys call elective mutism.”
“At least it’s ‘elective.'”
He stared at me. “Meaning?”
“Meaning you’re in control,” I said.
“Am I? Is there really any such thing as volition?”
“Without volition, why the need for guilt, Eric?”
He frowned for less than a second. Wiped away consternation with a smile. “Aha!” Fingering a button of his wrinkled shirt. “A philosopher. Probably an Ivy League guy—let’s take a look at those diplomas… . Oh. Sorry, the U. Native son?”
” Midwesterner.”
“Corn and cows and yet you’re philosophical—this could start sounding like My Dinner with Andre.”
“Favorite movie of yours?” I said.
“I liked it, considering the chattiness level. Lethal Weapon’s more to my taste.”