Don't Make Me Smile by Barbara Park Read Free Book Online Page B

next.
    Great. Now he was reading my mind.
    â€œI promise you, Charlie. You won’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to,” he said. “In fact, all I would like for you to do is answer one small question for me. It’s a question I ask all my patients. Are you ready?”
    I nodded.
    â€œOkay, here’s the question,” he said. “How do I look?”
    Geez. What a stupid thing to ask.
    I didn’t answer. If you ask me, answering a stupid question is almost as stupid as asking it.
    Dr. Girard stared at me.
    â€œI’m serious, Charlie. How do I look?” he asked again.
    I was going to try to outstare him, but I figured he was probably a lot better at staring than I was. After all, he got to stare at people all day long. So finally, I gave in and answered the stupid question.
    â€œYou look fine,” I said. “Can I go now?”
    Dr. Girard laughed some more. For a guy who worked with nutcases all day, he sure laughed a lot.
    â€œDo you think you could be a little clearer?” he said. “I mean, do I look happy to you? Or depressed? Or mad? How do you think I look?”
    I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess you look happy.”
    â€œYou’re right,” he said. “I am happy.”
    Well, goody-goody for you, I thought. Why was he acting like such an idiot all of a sudden?Personally, I didn’t care whether he was happy or not. All I wanted to do was get out of there.
    Dr. Girard kept talking. “The thing is, though, I wasn’t always as happy as I am right now. As a matter of fact, Charlie, when I was your age, I was just about the most miserable kid that you’ve ever seen in your life.”
    I knew he was setting me up. He wanted me to ask him why he used to be miserable. I tried not to, too. But my curiosity got the best of me.
    â€œOkay. I give up,” I said. “Why were you miserable?”
    â€œFor the exact same reason that you are,” he said. “I was miserable because my parents told me they were getting divorced.”
    I should have known he was going to say that. He was trying to find a way to get me to talk about my own situation. It was sneaky, I thought. But it wouldn’t work.
    â€œAs a matter of fact,” continued Dr. Girard, “I was so unhappy about the divorce that I did something pretty strange.”
    Once again, my curiosity got to me. What could he have done that was any stranger than the things I had done? What was stranger than going to live in a tree?
    â€œSo what did you do?” I asked.
    â€œI stopped speaking to my parents,” he said.
    I rolled my eyes. That was it? He honestly thought that not speaking to your parents was
strange
?
    â€œNo offense, Dr. Girard,” I said. “But what’s such a big deal about not speaking to your parents? I stop speaking to my parents all the time.”
    â€œFor a whole year, Charlie?” he asked. “I didn’t speak to either one of my parents for a year. Not one word.”
    Now I felt insulted.
    â€œOh, come on,” I said. “I’m not some dumb little kid, you know. I understand what you’re trying to do here. You’re trying to get me to talk by making up a bunch of wild stories. No one can stop speaking to their parents for an entire year.”
    Dr. Girard leaned over his desk and looked me straight in the eye.
    â€œOne … whole … year,” he said again.
    This time, I could tell he wasn’t kidding.
    â€œBut that’s impossible,” I said. “How could anyone stop talking for a whole year?”
    â€œWait. Hold it. I didn’t say that I stopped talking,
completely
,” he said. “I said that I stoppedtalking to my
parents.
I talked to everyone else just fine. My friends, teachers … everybody, except Mom and Dad.”
    â€œWow,” I said. “My mom and dad get mad if I clam up for even a couple