Anastasia, Ask Your Analyst by Lois Lowry Read Free Book Online

sale."
    "How did he die?" asked Anastasia.
    "Are you sure you want to know? It's sort of gross," Sonya said. "It wasn't in the paper or anything, but my father told me about it."
    "Of
course
we want to know," said Meredith.
    "Well," Sonya explained, "a regular patient came in—a man—and they said hello to each other and everything, and then the patient lay down on the couch the way he always did, and Dr. Matthias sat in a chair, the
way
he
always did, and the patient started to talk, and he talked for a whole hour until his appointment was over. And Dr. Matthias didn't say anything for the whole hour, but the man didn't notice because Dr. Matthias
never
said anything. And then the patient got up to leave, and went to say good-bye, but Dr. Matthias was dead. He'd been dead the whole hour."
    "You mean," Anastasia asked, "the guy had been talking to a dead body for an hour?" It made her feel queasy, just thinking about it.
    "That's what the medical examiner said," Sonya explained matter-of-factly. "Apparently he had died of a heart attack, just after he sat down in the chair."
    "Gross," said Anastasia. "Maximo grosso."
    "Did the guy demand his money back?" Meredith asked.
    "I dunno," said Sonya. "I never thought about that. But when my father was telling us about it, at dinner, he said it probably didn't make much difference because if Dr. Matthias never said anything anyway, so what if he was dead?"
    "I'd demand my money back," said Meredith. "I demanded my money back when I found a dead beetle in a bag of popcorn at the movies. It seems like the same thing to me."
    "After my father told us about it, my brother said he knew a joke about a psychiatrist. And it started: Once a man went to a psychiatrist and said, 'Doctor, you have to help me because everything I see reminds me of breasts.'"
    "What did the psychiatrist say?" asked Anastasia.
    Sonya shrugged. "I don't know. Because my father said, 'None of that at the dinner table.'"
    "SONYA!" wailed Anastasia and Meredith together.
    "I only know the beginnings of jokes," Sonya said wistfully. "I don't know one single punch line."
    "Now listen," said Sonya seriously as they stood in the driveway, "let's make a pact. This time we won't buy junk."
    "I
like
junk," giggled Meredith.
    "I do too," said Anastasia. "But Sonya's right. I wasted five whole dollars last time. I bought that ashtray shaped like a pair of hands. And I don't even smoke."
    "Yeah," Meredith admitted. "And I bought that shower curtain. My mother made me throw it out, because there was mold on it. But it had those neat swans all over it."
    "I'm only going to look for books," said Sonya. "Really good books. No trash."
    "I suppose I could look for a birthday present for my sister," Meredith mused.
    "Does she smoke?" asked Anastasia.
    "Yeah. But don't tell my parents."
    "For three dollars I'll sell you this ashtray shaped like a pair of hands."
    "How about two dollars?" asked Meredith. "I didn't charge you anything for the gerbils, and I gave you their cage and everything, and the book about how to take care of them."
    Anastasia pondered that. "That's true," she said. "But don't forget that your mother said that if you didn't get
rid of them she was going to put them down the garbage disposal. So I really did you a favor by giving them a good home."
    "Well," said Meredith, "let me look through this garage. If I don't find anything, I'll buy the ashtray from you. What are you going to buy?"
    "I'm not sure," said Anastasia. "I always have to wait until something sort of, you know,
strikes
me."
    Sonya had wandered off, into the garage, and was looking through a large shelf of books. They caught up with her.
    "I found
Wuthering Heights,
" she said blissfully. "My very favorite book."
    "Don't you already have
Wuthering Heights?
" asked Meredith, who was leaning over a box full of fishing tackle.
    "You can never have too many copies of
Wuthering Heights,
" said Sonya, clutching the dusty volume.
    "Do you think Kirsten