Henry Franks by Peter Adam Salomon Read Free Book Online Page B

through the fall of his hair with red eyes. His breath came hard and fast, hyperventilating. “I can’t remember me .”
    â€œTake deep breaths.”
    â€œI can’t.”
    â€œHenry!” Dr. Saville reached his side in one step, and then moved back as his arms flailed out.
    â€œI—” He rocked back and forth, banging his head against the chair. “I—” He blinked, over and over again, the motions erratic and strained as he clawed at his skin, leaving faint trails of blood behind.
    â€œDeep breaths, Henry.”
    Dr. Saville knelt in front of him and held his hands down after he drew blood from the scar on his wrist. He shook like a wild animal cornered after a fight; his thrashing banged his skull against her chin. “Breathe, Henry.”
    His heart hammered against his ribs and he couldn’t catch his breath.
    â€œBreathe.” She took a deep breath. “Slow, Henry, remember?”
    When he looked up at her, a trail of blood ran from her bottom lip, and the bright red caught his attention more than her words.
    â€œBreathe,” she said before she took another deep breath. “Count to ten, Henry.”
    And he did.
    â€œAgain.”
    Together, they held their breath. Inhale. Exhale. Again. Until she released him and he collapsed into the chair.
    â€œYou need to practice your relaxation techniques more.”
    â€œYou’re bleeding,” he said, pointing at her chin.
    Dr. Saville grabbed a tissue and wiped her face.
    Henry hung his head between his knees, letting his hair fall back in front of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œIt’s all right, Henry,” she said. “Are you feeling better now?”
    â€œI miss Elizabeth.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWe talked.”
    â€œAbout?”
    â€œI can’t remember. Just stuff.”
    â€œIs there anyone else you talk to?”
    â€œYou.” Henry sat up, brushing the hair away, trying to forget the brief image of her eating breakfast with his father. He wanted to ask her about it but the words caught inside his throat and all that came out was a hiss.
    â€œAnyone else?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDon’t you talk with Justine?” she asked.
    â€œOn the bus.”
    â€œThat’s someone.”
    He shrugged. “She does most of the talking.”
    â€œDo you know that you smile when you talk about her?”
    Henry pulled his hair in front of his face and then turned away. “So?”
    â€œYou don’t smile when you talk about Elizabeth.”
    â€œSo?” He took a deep breath, held it and counted to ten on his fingers, then released it.
    â€œSo, Henry,” she said. “Better?”
    Who’s Henry? But like all the others, that question was silent as well.
    â€œMaybe,” he said.

nine

    The door opened up to the heat, and where the outside met the air-conditioning inside was a weather system unto itself; moist, hot, and too thick to inhale. The bright sun burned off the blacktop and his sunglasses did little to dull the impact. A headache started almost immediately.
    His father waited in the parking lot, engine running to keep cool, and Henry slid in as quickly as possible.
    â€œHow’d it go?” his father asked as he pulled onto Demere Road.
    Henry turned up the air-conditioning and then rested his head back on the seat, eyes closed. “Fine.”
    â€œHenry?”
    He opened one eye, peering at his father through the hair falling in front of his face. He sighed. “It’s a process.”
    â€œDid Dr. Saville say anything?”
    â€œAbout?”
    â€œYou?” his father asked.
    â€œNo.”
    Henry pulled at the collar of his shirt, closed his eyes, and looked away.
    His father turned the car into Harrison Pointe and parked in front of the house. “I’ll be working late again. Don’t forget to do your homework.”
    â€œFine,” Henry said before grabbing his