A big glass elevator led me up to the seventh floor, one of the upper floors at the office building. The jazzy music playing through the speakers was forgettable and just increasing my nerves. The bell rang as I reached my destination and the golden doors opened. I stepped out into an office. The wall said it all. “The Psychiatric Offices of Dr. Elliot Ellis, PhD.”

I felt my throat make a preemptive gulp and my hands shook a little with the application still in hand. I took a couple steps toward the secretary’s desk but I felt more like I was sneaking up on her, for some reason.

“Good morning,” she sing-songed when she saw me.

“Hi” I managed to blurb out. I cleared my throat. “I’m here about the position. I read about it online.”

“Oh! Of course. May I see your resume,” she held out her hand towards my papers.

Resume? I knew I didn’t quite have one. I’d never worked a real job in my life. I handed her the papers anyway.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I’m gonna put these in Dr. Ellis’ mailbox for you and we’ll call you if we have any need for you.”

That was it? Really? I wasn’t expecting such a ‘hmm yeah well see,’ maybe more a ‘ooooh finally someone applied. Yeah!’ I was let down and she could see that, I think.

She gave a more trying smile and looked towards the big round clock to her side. “Actually, if you wait around for a couple more minutes, you can talk to Dr. Ellis about it. He’s just finishing up with a client.”

I nodded, “Okay.” I took a seat on the other side of the waiting room. Recent issues of Psychology Today splashed out across the coffee table with headlines like “What could your past be hiding?” or “Five things they never told you about schizophrenia.” Each one just as depressing sounding as the next.

The door cracked open across the room and immediately a clatter of voice. “Thank you, Mrs. Showenfeld. I’ll make sure we have those puzzles down next week.”

A suave younger man, about thirtyish, came out escorting a female senior that looked like she was completely dazed. “What’s next week?” she asked, reinstating the original impression.

“Next week, is your next appointment. Tuesday, ten o’clock, remember?” the doctor patted her wrinkled, pale hand. A comforting gesture.

“Oh, yes. Of course,” the lady waved a hand at him to show the doctor it was not big deal.

“Well, just in case you forget, Justine, here, is gonna call your son to remind him to pick you up. Right, Justine?” his voice was loud and deliberate to make sure the older lady understood everything.

The secretary smiled as she grabbed a pen and a sticky note and jotted down the reminder, “Yup.”

“Oh, bless you, Elliot,” Mrs. Showenfeld smiled up at him.

“Anytime. I’ll see you next week. Stay beautiful,” he glowed

“Bye bye,” she waved and shuffled her way to the elevator.

“Elliot, we have someone here who’s interested in the open position. Here are his papers,” Justine jerked her head towards me and handed Dr. Ellis my application.

“Oh, wonderful. Come on back,” He flipped quickly through the papers and waved for me to come.

I got up from my seat and followed him through the frosted glass office door. His office was a well-lit room with a wall of leather bound books and a new looking olive canvas couch in the corner. A big grey arm chair sat to the side of it and a desk with piles and piles of papers lay to the other side. He made his way behind the desk and took a seat, propping his feet up on its edge.

“So, Gerard. What can I do for you?” he asked looking more closely at my papers now.

“Um, I found online that you were hiring and I thought I’d give it a shot,” I knew that this wasn’t the impressive interviewee he was looking for.

“It doesn’t seem like you have any office experience though, is that correct?” he took the pen from behind his ear and began subtly gnawing on its tip.

“No, sir. I’ve been away at boarding school for the past two years and I’m just now starting to get back to reality. I mean, my dad works at a bank. I used to visit him there.”

“And you just graduated school.” He said it not as a question, but as a sort of high point in the application. It was the high point of the application.

“I know I’m probably under qualified for the position, but I have experience in psychology and I’m interested in learning more. I promise I’ll work as hard as I can,” I pleaded.

“You know taking a AP Psychology course doesn’t mean you have experience, son,” he giggled at himself. A handsome smirk grew across his face.

I sighed. “I lived in a psychological institution for two years? Is that enough experience for ya?” I didn’t want to come off snippy, but he had angered me. I didn’t want to believe I had just told him that, but I did.

He looked away from the papers and up at me for the first time since I had come in. He studied me for a second. “Reynard’s?”

The name gave me a shiver and I compulsively bit my lip. I nodded. “How’d you know?”

“The haircut gave you away. They really need to learn how to use a pair of clippers correctly over there,” he almost giggled to himself, but caught it in his throat.

I wasn’t giggling. I ran a hand over the uneven shortness of my hair. He was right about how bad it was.

“I’m gonna give you a shot here,” the doctor said, taking his feet off the desk.

I cleared my throat again, feeling weak, “Thank you, Dr. Ellis.”

“Dr. Ellis is my father,” he said. “Call me Elliot.”

I didn’t speak.

“You’ll start tomorrow. Your hours are nine to one. I just need help organizing everything around here and cleaning up the space. I’ve only been practicing for a month and it’s already a mess here.” He motioned to all the papers and misarranged books all over the room. “Justine can only do so much before we need another set of hands. I hope you are a good alphabetizer and such.”

“I am,” I choked out, still taken aback by the fact that he pointed out my past so easily.

“Well, good,” he looked over me again. “Just tell Justine that you got the position and to give you those employee papers to fill out.”

“Okay, Thank you… Elliot,” I pursed my lips and looked up at him.

He starred at me a moment with eyes that were full of thought and pensiveness, “No problem, Gerard. I look forward to working with you.”

I made my move towards the door and put my hand on the handle, before turning back around. “How do you know about Reynard’s?” I asked with a blink.

Elliot took a moment to process the question. “I went there when I was your age.” He let out a stifled cough into his fist. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gerard.”