Lori Martin was careful never to mix up her textbooks with her client book, which by the end of term was almost full.
It was hard to expect a young student to juggle so many obligations; friends, family, even the nascent allure of love which consumed one’s time at a rate all of its own, but this modern world was ideal for one as amenable to stress as Lori Martin.
And as Lori cleaned out her dorm before the final exams, looking over those names in her rococo handwriting, it became evident that something had changed in her. It seemed a long time ago when she said the purpose of holistic therapy was to use the body as an instrument for healing others, when their body could not do it for themselves.
‘That’s how we evolved as a species, we learned to live together by healing. Loneliness and isolation kill.’
It so transpired over the final year that Lori learned something else about the body, how it feels things the mind cannot understand, and while she was paying her way through college using all her tenderness and generosity of care, something more indelible was flourishing in her, something that brooked no casual exchange of caresses or transactional glances.
Now as she flicked through the pages of her journal, she was afraid it was too late to make those changes mean something more than a bit of money.
Busyness was the self-evident fact of student life and all the proof one needed that every penny of the tuition fee was accounted for. And if maintaining the challenges of studying holistic therapy were not hard enough, Lori also had friendships to keep up, friendships that required an ability to embellish details. These skills were tested when her friends questioned where all that money in her wallet came from when she didn’t appear to have a job. When the questions became persistent, Lori lied, stating that she came from a wealthy family, and when her family asked the same questions, she lied again, stating that waitressing was finally a well-paying job where the tips were tax-free. It was disquieting how easily lies from one area of life migrated into another area, and soon you had to remember who was told what lie, and when.
But Lori assured herself that a long scroll of lies would hardly matter when she was out in the professional world bearing the responsibility of adulthood with wit and enthusiasm. No one would ask difficult questions then.
But still, the penultimate duties of college life were not enough to inspire any studious inclination in Lori, not when things were finally coming to an end. She had done enough practical study throughout the previous three years, and there was plenty of time in the future for further application. The final weeks of university could hardly be spent fretting over exams that posed no threat to her plans, not when there was a litany of job offers in her inbox.
Her friends were probably out on the town now, drinking spritzers and gossiping about those who couldn’t make it. But they could afford to go out, whereas Lori had to save her money, and disposable income was difficult to come by, despite her devoted clientele. But she did what she could, and she had reached the end of a long journey, finally earning the right to embrace the future that awaited her.
Her parents showed up earlier that day, calling an hour ahead of arrival, giving her little chance to clean up and remove all traces of strange young men. Diane, her mother, padded around the room caressing one item while looking at another, and remarking on yet a third, namely the dreamcatcher and lampshades.
‘It’s lovely, dear, really.’ she said, as though such things had never been lovely before.
Lori stayed one step ahead, kicking socks and soft drink bottles under the bed before her mother stumbled upon them.
Peter, her father, kept craning his neck to look at the ceiling, as though the corners of such betrayed the real essence of a dorm.
‘Mmh…’ he remarked.
‘You have a lot of throwovers, dear. It’s not too cold in here, I hope.’ Diane said.
‘No, no. It’s just fine.’ Lori said.
How many times had she told her clients to take the throwovers away when the sessions were finished? Do men ever listen, she wondered.
They went out for dinner that night. Lori told her parents it was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, another habitual lie.
‘We’ll only have the finest.’ Peter said.
In fact, it was an average spot, a modest trattoria Lori visited just for the cinnamon buns. Together they sat enjoying a meal, little of which was consumed in favour of the red wine.
‘Not too much, ‘Diane said.
‘We’re celebrating.’ Peter answered.
‘Finals aren’t for another two weeks, Dad.’ Lori said.
‘They might as well send you on your way now.’
Everything Lori had stressed over during the previous three years was going to be settled on these exams, after which the time for waiting would be over and life could finally begin. Uncertainty surrounding the next two weeks was preferable to the uncertainty of a job she did not yet have and clients she did not yet know.
And with her parents already assuming the best, and her friends raising a drink, waving goodbye to the past, Lori knew then it was time to wrap up her things, phase out her clients, and begin the search for a place to start her entry into the adult world.
‘Goodnight, dear,’ Diane said.
‘See you soon, love you.’
‘We love you, sweetie, we’ll see you soon.’ Peter said.
They parted, Diane taking the wheel from her tipsy husband, who had more trouble than usual putting on his coat. Lori watched from her dorm window as her parents steered into the night through a miasma of neon lights and steaming buses, eventually turning back to her room.
A dozen piles had appeared like intruders; old wrappers, notebooks, posters and surrealist art prints. How she managed to disguise these from her parents was impossible to say. With graduation on the way and the next batch of would-be students coming along, it was a good time to begin the clean-up operation. Lori sighed, crouching over a few months’ worth of haphazard scheduling and failed attempts at establishing a respectable order about the place.
Now cleaning up her room she was reminded of previous clients; Alex, who brought his own camomile teabags, and Thomas, who smelled like cheese potato crisps, and left the crumbs behind. Also, there was Andre who lost a plaster from the heel of his left foot from his oversized basketball shoes, and Jerome, who Lori believed only showed up to inquire about Andre. Client/professional privilege prevented her from disclosing any confidential information. There were others too, each one with a story.
But why couldn’t she understand the feeling of loss, that throb which grew inside her at the oddest moments? Something was happening, a sensation she had just now come to realise was more than a quirk of the body. This feeling came with a thought, one which for so long had been blurry and was now trying to become distinct.
Looking through her client book she went back to the first appointment. She remembered it well, making up the rules as she went along with David, the pale guy who worked at the deli counter and gave her extra ketchup sachets.
‘Okay, you remember everything I said?’ Lori asked.
‘Yeah, alright.’ David said.
‘We keep our clothes on at all times, hands above the waist and outside the covers, and strictly no talking.’
‘Wait, why no talking?’
‘Okay, you can ask me a question if you need to.’
‘Cool. So just-‘
‘Just hugging, and nothing more.’ Lori said.
‘Hugging, right, I get it.’
‘Oh, and you have to pay me up front.’
‘So, like, now?’
‘Yeah, now.’
***
Lori was getting ready to go for lunch with Claire when she received an email. Clair was still hungover from the previous night out, and when she showed up at Lori’s dorm in a sullen mood and a look of helplessness in her eye, Lori took her in.
‘Oh my god, what happened?’ Lori asked.
‘Pinot Grigio.’ Claire mumbled.
Lori gave Claire a spare towel and use of the shower. By now she had been living out of a luggage bag with the drawers and wardrobes cleaned out. She could leave at any minute if she wanted. Claire, meanwhile, hadn’t even noticed, but it’s not like she ever took inventory. She lingered in the shower humming the lyrics to a half-remembered song from the night before.
Lori was skimming through exam notes when the email came through. It gave her a jolt, and again she remembered how she should have disabled the email account before more appointments came in. Most evenings she couldn’t study for ten minutes without the disruption. The email was from Freddy. The small photo of the avatar showed a blond-haired blue-eyed young man with a sandy complexion and a shy smile. It was as though he was posing for her, trying to win her affection, knowing she could walk away at any moment.
Lori did not recognise him at once, but continued to read the email, with the motor of the shower drumming through the room. In the email, Freddy wrote that he needed to see Lori as soon as possible, and wondered if she would be willing to meet him for coffee. Lori searched around her for her notebook where she kept reviews of every session. In the beginning she wanted only the most suitable clients and decided to rate and review them after each meeting. She thought that after a time she could have her own exclusive clientele, opting to work only with those who were hygienic, out-going, and sincere. She found the report on Freddy, reading her remarks and slowly remembering how he was one of the gentlest and most reticent guys she had met with. She wrote how he fell asleep in her arms, and she too almost drifted off. Lori looked up from her notebook and into that memory which was now returning clearly in her mind. In fact, she had fallen asleep, that much was true. This never happened before – or since – and she wrote how she was satisfied to see him again.
But that was three months ago, however, and there had been no word from him since. Now this email arrived, forcing Lori to make a decision that could undermine all her future plans. She sat at the computer trying to remember more about Freddy and the intimacy they shared. That was just it, the intimacy. All her previous appointments were professional and thorough, tender but always with a barrier between the service and the sentiment.
Lori even wondered if maybe this was all a joke, and soon it would transpire that all her clients were in on it together. But the pay was good and practical work would prove useful come final exams. After all, she was preparing to be a holistic therapist. Getting in touch with people and helping them accept the difficulties of life and navigate a new path forward seemed the most important thing to her. It was all about understanding yourself and knowing how to interpret your feelings. And this is what Lori excelled at, helping people come to a realisation about themselves and beginning the rest of their lives with that knowledge. Her parents were intrigued at first.
‘Holistic therapy?’ Diane said.
‘It’s not one of those pinprick things is it?’ Peter asked.
‘It’s like psychiatry but for the body.’ Lori answered.
Lori remembered how the session with Freddy was different from others. She recalled how he was neat, almost afraid to spread himself out, folding up his jacket like a newspaper. She attuned her tone to settle him, and soon he came out of himself, laughing about his clumsiness and poking fun at hers.
‘Sorry, my room is a mess.’ She said.
‘It sure is,’ he smiled, ‘but you should see mine.’
This was one of her special skills, the ability to transmute her personality, tailor it for the client, so they could approach the session on level terms, and become like the same person inhabiting two bodies. But never had Lori felt like the other body was becoming her own. Only the client was supposed to feel this. Cuddling into Freddy, she heard his breathing slowly sink deeper into silence, one which became her silence too. She could ask him about the form he filled out, discuss things he mentioned in it, things that were bothering him. Many of the clients liked to talk about the issues in their lives while wrapped up in Lori’s arms. She hoped they would come to associate their problems with her embrace, and that soon the spiky and irksome affairs of everyday life would become at once more palatable and edifying. And this was often true.
Looking over her notes again, Lori noticed how most of her clients appeared transformed after the session, fresh and rejuvenated. And it was also true that they never returned. They had come for a reset of mind and body after months of unending stress and onerous duties, and once they got what they needed, her job was done.
Lori remembered how when she looked down at Freddy sleeping it was clear that whatever he might need to talk about could wait, at least until he woke up. Lori pulled him closer to her chest, his hair tickling her chin. She felt his warm breath against her neck. It took a special dexterity to move with a sleeping body in your arms, but Lori managed it with finesse. None of her clients ever stirred from rest. A brief analysis of her performance would have shown how every gesture, unconscious or not, was expert and appropriate, perfectly suited to the occasion. Her comportment was a still, measured breath in a world of twitches and sighs.
But what was it about Freddy that touched her, and why had he not returned for another session? And why, in fact, was it now apparent that Lori was able to make her clients feel the kind of emotions that were sorely lacking from her own life? It was then that another throb rebounded inside her.
Lori looked around her room. Just when she had cleaned everything up and was ready to move on, it appeared as though something snagged on her and would not let go. She began typing a response to Freddy. She agreed to meet him for coffee the following day. That should be enough time to figure out how and why, more than the others, he should occupy a deeper place in her mind.
Lori breathed out a sigh. The motor from the shower had slowed down to a rumble and soon stopped. Lori looked around. Claire stood dripping wet with a towel around her body and the look of one who has survived that dreaded hangover.
***
Lori waited at the café for Freddy to arrive. Looking out on the busy street she saw numerous faces, each disappearing into the fragmented din of the crowd. When she was a little girl, Lori often approached strangers to ask them who they were and what their life was like. Diane, her mother, constantly reminded her that a child must not talk to strangers, even if one just wanted to make friends.
‘Should we get one of those child doggy leashes?’ Peter asked.
Lori ordered a coffee for herself with a cinnamon bun, picking it apart and nibbling on the crumbs. She thought if she ate it in tiny pieces then weight gain would be impossible. Making that coffee last until Freddy’s arrival and the extent of the meeting would prove to be difficult also, and she always denied herself a second cup, especially in the afternoon, just eight or so hours before bedtime.
And sleep had not come the previous night without disruption. Lori lay on her back looking at the peeling paint in one corner of the ceiling. From a certain angle, it looked like a large cobweb. A sheet of dark blue light hung from the walls where the calendar kept falling down. It reminded Lori of the aquatic centre where they practised water aerobics.
The water was always warm and inviting, one never wanted to leave it. But the throbbing sensation continued within her, presenting new challenges to sleep. She could not stop thinking about Freddy. She understood that in the three months since she met him something unusual began to occur; a feeling of loneliness breached by a presence she could not distinguish from anything around her. How was it that one could be lonely while surrounded by others, and especially in her case, when human contact was not in short supply?
Freddy must have felt the same thing, Lori mused. And now after some contemplation, much like what she was doing now, lying awake at three o’clock in the morning, he reached out for something more.
Lori was preparing to leave when Freddy finally showed up. She recognised him at once but was surprised to see him appear so suddenly. He emerged from the crowd with a denim jacket, black jeans and a grey satchel. His sandy hair became clumped to one side as the wind blew. He could have disappeared as quickly as he arrived, such was the fractious crowd.
‘Hi, Freddy? Hey, I’m Lori. Do you want to sit down?’
‘Yeah, thanks. Sorry, I’m late, I-‘
‘No, it’s fine. I just got here.’
Lori remembered him just as he was, and he hadn’t changed. Talking with Claire the previous day at lunch, she imagined all the ways the meeting could fail. And discussing him without alluding to their connection was nearly impossible too.
‘Whoever he is,’ Claire said,’ he obviously likes you.’
‘I know, and I like him too. Well, I think I like him. I don’t know what I like.’
‘He’s taken you away from us,’ Claire continued, ‘we haven’t seen you in ages.’
‘I know, I’m sorry. Things have just been a little crazy recently, study and everything.’
‘Sure. We’re all feeling it. Emma got sick the other day at lunch, couldn’t keep a falafel down. She said she’d been up all night studying. Can you believe it?’
Lori wondered if maybe she was just inviting these feelings into her life. It didn’t appear to make sense that you could be in love and not realise the fact at once. But love was no more understandable with ease of use.
‘I just don’t get it; how can you not know how you feel?’ Lori said.
‘The heart is the strangest and most stubborn of organs, Lori. We all learn it sooner or later.’
‘Sometimes I wonder if I’m thinking feelings into existence, and so it’s like they’re not really sincere, they’re just thoughts. And you can think anything.’
‘That happened with me and Kyle, remember? He said he didn’t love me like he thought he did, and that I was a crutch to help him through his parents’ divorce. Said he got his feelings all mixed up. That’s why he broke up with me, he thought I deserved better, and he didn’t want to hurt me…asshole.’
Lori smiled, and finished her lunch. But this quandary with Freddy was something else altogether. She only met him once, forgot him, and yet carried a memory of him with her, one which only became apparent when he reappeared months later. Whatever had happened during that time was now coalescing with this frantic period in her life.
‘How do you know if what you’re feeling is true if you’ve never felt it before?’ She asked. But Claire had no answer.
Sitting with Freddy now at the café that same question irked Lori. She looked at him as he stumbled and hesitated over each word, clumsily trying to outline his position.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t touch bases or anything, I just needed to, I don’t know, get my head straight.’ He said.
‘Was there something that upset you, or something I said?’ Lori asked.
‘No, no. You didn’t do anything, I mean you did something, obviously. I guess I just didn’t know what it was, and…it’s not something I’ve experienced before.’
‘I understand, I do. Actually when you contacted me again I was surprised because I hadn’t forgotten you. Well, I kinda did, but it was like I knew I would see you again.’
‘And here we are.’ Freddy smiled.
‘Yeah, here we are.’
Later, they returned to her dorm. Lori explained how she was getting ready to finish her studies and move out. Freddy carried with him that same shyness that needed to be teased out. He remained quiet, feeling his way into the dark, refusing to speak least he say the wrong thing.
Lori flipped the light switch, and was surprised to find the room illuminated.
‘That’s strange, this light’s been broken for weeks. I normally light the candles.’
‘The candles? Yeah, I remember the candles. Sandalwood, right?’ He said.
‘Yes, I can light them if you want.’
There was one purple lilac flower left on the desk in a pot. Freddy blew on the petals, one of which fell away onto the floor. A slew of brown boxes surrounded the bed and window with the calendar resting on the sill.
‘The place is a little drab. I had to clean up.’ Lori said.
‘Do you know where you’re going to stay next?’ Freddy asked.
‘Oh, no. Not yet. I have some job applications to sort through, so I’ll have to wait and see. Fingers crossed.’
Lori smoothed out the bed covers and helped Freddy remove his coat. His arms were cold and prickly. The room was dark but for the scorched hue of the melting candles beside the bed. Lori watched the shadows of their bodies move along the wall.
‘Do you want to lie down?’ She asked. Freddy hesitated, but slowly laid himself out on the bed.
‘Wait, shoes.’ Lori said.
‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t-‘
Lori smiled, and removed his shoes, before lying beside him on the bed. He looked at her and raised his hand to her cheek. A smile appeared on her face.
‘I have that same feeling I had before.’ Freddy said.
‘Me too.’ Lori responded.
‘What do you think it is?’
‘I don’t know.’ Lori said.
***
When Lori woke up the next morning, Freddy was gone. She rose from the bed, looking around the room. It was quiet and grey, with the echo of a voice long silenced. The candles had burned down to the steel cap, but the aroma remained in the corners where the thin cobwebs began to flutter. Lori emerged from the bed and put her socks back on. Her feet were cold, and her naked shoulders hummed with the aftertouch of an embrace.
The morning erupted in the distance across the front lawn with cars and buses, while outside in the corridor voices emerged from the other dorms. The large shard of paint from the ceiling appeared to have detached itself further from the corner and dangled like a leaf down the wall.
Lori assured herself that what happened was not a dream and that Freddy really had spent the night in her room. But what it all meant still remained uncertain. And if she had to search back into her mind for understanding, she didn’t know where to begin, because none of it made sense. She wondered how this enterprise even began. It must have been a mistake; inviting strangers into your dorm, prescribing your body as a curative solution to problems not your own. Only now did it sound as absurd as all that. She had to see it for herself, and hearing from anyone else, not least her friends, would only have emboldened her.
She stood up from bed and got dressed in yesterday’s clothes. There were no messages from Freddy, and he didn’t leave a note behind. His clothes and bag were gone, and all that remained of him was the faint smell of denim. Lori looked outside into the corridor, people were flitting past in every direction. Some of the final exams had already started, and the risible tension lingered in the air as students expended nervous energy on jokes and gestures.
In light of the scene, and the ever approaching end of Lori’s matriculation, she decided it was best to leave Freddy, and focus on her final week before exams. But that was not as simple as she imagined. Her friends did plenty of talking too, and it amounted to nothing more than hypocrisy.
Lori took a shower in water that was less than warm, thinking all the time of Freddy and trying to remember the finer details of their session together. She remembered leaning in to kiss him, reaching forward as he fell back on the bed. Soon she was on top of him, holding his face in her hands as he gripped her warm body. They rolled together on the bed, at once gently and with passion. Something in the way he held her body suggested reluctance. Lori remembered pulling him closer to her body, but he would not be moved.
She opened her eyes, but the memory was not there, and she stood in the shower watching the water course down her body, steam clouding her eyes.
The days passed, and Lori was no more assured of her connection with Freddy. The feeling precipitated by their first meeting which she sought to recapture in the second meeting, was now a deeper mystery, harder to access. She looked at her phone more often than not and waited for emails to come through. Each time her phone buzzed she seized upon it, only to see a new job application or a notification for yet another year-end party.
But Lori could not celebrate, and the thought of doing anything before coming to an understanding with Freddy was impossible. And when it seemed like she was getting ready to move on; studying, doing yoga, phoning home to her parents, that same throb beat against her chest, and she was right back in that faded memory with Freddy shutting his eyes and kissing her.
Soon the very thought of him made Lori fret. He was out there somewhere, carrying a piece of her, the details of a memory that she needed before she could be certain if the feeling they talked about was true, or just a mere thought.
Later, she gathered the boxes together and piled everything into a corner behind the door. Her father, Peter, had phoned, promising to collect her. Lori didn’t want to see her parents just yet. Diane, like all mothers, had a way of knowing that something was wrong. And Lori didn’t yet know what exactly the problem was and had no obvious explanation. Everything was abstracted in the form of obscured memories and nebulous feelings too strange to clearly identify. Despite her feelings, Lori decided to go to a party with friends.
‘This is your last chance to get drunk as a student, you can’t seriously say no,’ Claire said.
‘I know, but I just…’
‘Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ll make the night last forever.’
But alcohol only improved things for those who were already happy, it even seemed like her friends were the sensible ones all along. Life was easier when drunk. Thoughts didn’t last long enough to pose problems, and if they did, you could just have another one. But looking around and seeing everyone having fun, delighting in the free-flowing excess, made Lori feel sick. Had these people never felt pain before, was everything just a passing sensation, did nothing matter more than the next party?
Lori realised she had been wrong the whole time, giving herself up to strangers and leaving nothing for herself to live on. Her emotions were a deflated balloon and she was now deprived of the air required to inflate them. With that thought, she left the party and returned to the dorm, falling asleep on top of the covers with her shoes on the duvet.
The next day, Freddy contacted Lori and asked to meet her again. At first, she didn’t know how to respond, although it was obvious that she would agree to see him. She did not want to appear too concerned or excited, but in truth a meeting was the only thing that could elucidate the feeling between them. Lori spent the morning preparing herself, but when it seemed clear to her what to say, she realised that she had no idea what Freddy wanted to say. And he was the last person whose intentions she could intuit.
‘Hey, I’m sorry I left the other day,’ Freddy said when they met at the café, ‘I didn’t want to disturb you. I was still unsure, and…’
‘It’s okay, I’m not angry. I didn’t know either what to do, or…I-‘
‘I was thinking over the last few days, and I think I made a mistake. I mean, that feeling, it wasn’t what I thought it was. I’m sorry, you probably get this all the time from guys. I thought it was love, you know. But I don’t think it was real, and I can’t assume that what was strange for me was the same for you.’
Lori was struck by a sudden pang of grief. Something stiffened inside her, and soon her face turned red and hot.
‘I don’t know what you mean, I…I thought it was love too. I still do. This isn’t common for me, I didn’t think this would happen either. I…I want to explore this more. I think we should –‘
‘But you do this thing,’ Freddy gestured, ‘you’re close to guys all the time, and…I can’t, I mean I just want you for you, not as…I can’t be with you when it's like this. I’m sorry…like I said, I made a mistake.’
Lori was silent. Freddy looked around, the café was more crowded than usual. A throng of cars beeped outside in the clamorous street. Lori couldn’t hear herself think. But before she knew it, she was speaking.
‘I thought…You’re the one person I have genuine feelings for, and...’
Freddy tried to hold his gaze on her, but the earnest return of her face was more truth than he could handle. He stood up, throwing his satchel over his shoulder and brushed his hair. Lori looked up. She could not make herself rise to meet him.
‘I’m sorry, I better go. Goodbye.’ He said.
Lori waited at her table, watching her tea go cold. The café emptied before long, and it was time to get back to the dorm before dark. When she arrived there, her friends were hanging out near the canteen, joking and jesting.
Lori took the long route behind the library, through the courtyard, and up the stairs, collapsing onto her bed in a stream of tears.
***
The next morning Lori stood outside the main dormitory with boxes stacked neatly by. Her father, Peter, was on the way to collect her belongings, as other students gathered their things too before final exams.
Lori did not sleep well that night. The only thing that remained in her room was the lilac plant on the desk, denuded of petals. Also, the calendar from the wall she dumped in the bin, and the melted candles too were no longer useful. When she moved in a few years earlier it seemed as though she carried her whole life with her, it was crazy to think you could fit something so unwieldy into a few boxes. But now there was much less to carry.
When Lori arrived at college, her upbeat demeanour presented itself as a skill, a felicity at once mysterious and inviting. Most who met her came away with a new belief, if not in total purity, at least in kindness as a casual and obvious mode of comportment, one you might try out yourself. That was three years ago. Lori was not the same person she was then. This was a place and time where the full ambit of youth should be experienced, but Lori had been content to remain in the routine her appointments required, slowly becoming an adult without knowing it. Now she carried a feeling that could not be regained. It was a feeling that promised so much, one if not carefully managed could bring the kind of loss she could not reconcile with herself.
Lori stood by the front lawn, holding firmly the boxes which swayed as the wind blew past. She looked out on the street to the high buildings, the numerous lanes of traffic, the strange faces that appeared from every corner. There was so much in the world, too much for one person to even countenance. Lori knew that now, and it was clear that this feeling of loss was present in everyone. It would not last forever, but while it remained in her, she would grow with it. However long it might last, this pain signified the truth of her place in the world, and though it sounded cruel, it was best experienced at this time, and learned as a lesson, one that she would not forget, and that all the love she might experience in the future would be made stronger for having felt it now.
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