Chapter 1: Chapter 1
I'm sitting in a chair in the waiting room of the hospital. I'm not supposed to be here, but I am. I'm impossible" you see. My leg hurts, my back hurts, and every part of me that touches the chair hurts. Why do they put us in chairs? Is it so we don't hurt each other?Or is it so we can't run away? I'm going to have to go with the second one. They put us in these chairs so we l be forced to talk to each other. It's sort of like a date, you know? A date with a capital D. Except I'm not dating him. I'm waiting for him. He's coming for me.It's sort of like a date, except it's not a date. It's more like a pre-date. A pre-date with a capitol D.
The door opens and a man walks in. He looks like he could be a football player, but he has a beard and long hair that are red in color.He's wearing a green hospital gown that covers everything but his legs. His dark eyes catch mine and he smiles. "Hi John," he says, I heard your voice on the phone. What brings you to our humble abode?" I stare at him for a few seconds. How can anyone say humble abode? It sounds so grandiloquent. "Hospital," I say."What brings you to our humble hospital?" He stares back at me, his eyes so brown they're almost black. He has a moustache that looks like he plucked it out of a children's book, and a goatee that makes him look like a disheveled Santa claus. "Are you kidding?I'm in the hospital? I'm in a wheelchair, but I'm not in the hospital." He stares at me for a few seconds, his brows scrunching together like he wants to say something, anything, but he can't find the words. "So you are the impossible man. I see you figured out the chair thing, too.Impressive." I smile. "You know, I think you and I should get together and talk. You seem like a nice enough guy, I d like to get your take on things." He nods. "Sounds good to me. My name is Bruce by the way.Not that it matters, but I'm a therapist, and I've been assigned to you." I stare at him for a few seconds. I'm trying to figure out what kind of game he is playing. Then it hits me. He is playing a trick on me. This is his way of getting my attention without me knowing it. "Trickster," I say, "very good.I like it." He smiles. "Well, now that we've met, I think we should chat. I have some questions for you, and I think you have some questions for me, and we can see where it goes from there." We chat for a few minutes. He asks me if I have a girlfriend, and I tell him I live alone.No girlfriends, no boyfriends. Just me. That seems to surprise him as much as it does everyone else who comes into contact with me. After all, I am handsome, I am big, people say I have a great smile,