“Want to go play with the boys for a bit?” Grandma asked, pointing at a group of boys from my class. Boys who, at the time, already had a list of nicknames for me and would use that list all the time, without thinking twice. Because when you’re ten or eleven, you don’t care.
“No. Let’s go to the library,” I answered, pulling my grandma in the opposite direction.
“Do you want to go play with the girls, then?” she asked, and at the time I didn’t understand what she meant. Now I do.
“I don’t want to go, Grandma. Let’s get out of here,” I whimpered like a brat to see if that would work. She took my hand, and we kept on walking.
“You need to make more friends, Lipé. I was just trying to help. Grandma’s sorry,” she said.
“I don’t think I want to be friends with them.”
“May I know why?”
“I don’t know, Grandma. I don’t feel well. That’s all.”
“What is it that you do feel?” Grandma asked, and I think that was my very first therapy session.
“Afraid,” I answered without thinking. And my grandma went silent, not knowing what to say. I also wouldn’t know what to tell a ten- or eleven-year-old who’s afraid of his classmates. Maybe I’d call the police.
All I remember is, on that day, when we got to the library, my grandma handed me this edition of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (which at the time was already old).
“There’s a scared lion in this book. He learns to be brave. Maybe you can, too,” Grandma Thereza said, stroking my head as I scanned the illustrations on the pages, searching for a quick answer that wouldn’t involve me reading the entire book.
Grandma was always like that. She always had the right book for the right occasion. And I, with nothing else to do that afternoon, sat in an armchair and started reading. I remember reading until my head hurt, and at the end of her workday, I hadn’t finished yet. I took the book home, where I read it to the end.
At the end, the Lion kills a giant spider that was scaring all the animals. He’s then crowned as the new king of the forest.
Right after he kills the spider, he says proudly, “You need fear your enemy no longer.”
That part was stuck in my head forever. I read and reread it, trying to put myself in the Lion’s shoes. Trying to see a way to defeat my giant spider and be crowned the king of school. For days I went to school determined to face the spiders, but when the time came, I always put my head down and listened in silence as my schoolmates chanted, “Chubby, fat, punching bag.”
Six or seven years later, the solution hasn’t come to me yet. And today in therapy, when I heard Olivia say those words, I thought I could find the answer here.
“I’m borrowing this one,” I tell Marta, sliding the book across the counter.
“The Wonderful Wizard of Oz? One of my favorites. We have a newer edition. Revised, all illustrated, exquisite. Would you like me to get it?”
“No, no need, Marta. I’m taking this one right here. It’s special.”
Marta thinks for a second and then comes closer to me, as if about to tell me a secret. As if the library wasn’t almost completely empty.
“If it’s that special, you can keep it. But don’t tell anyone I let you do that.”
Even though it’s an old, yellow book with some loose pages, it’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever received. So I don’t bother being coy and accept it right away.
“Thank you so much, Marta. I swear I’ll come to visit more. Even if I don’t have to return this one,” I say, waving the book in the air.
“Yes, do come back. If you come at three o’clock, I can even offer you a cup of coffee,” she says sweetly.
We say our goodbyes and I take off.
It’s weird to come home from therapy and find Caio there. Even though he’s been staying here for over ten days, I’ll never get used to opening the door and finding him here, waiting for me.
Well, technically not waiting for me, but let me dream.
When I see him, he’s lying on the couch reading, and judging by the silence, I already know my mom isn’t home.
“I’m so glad you’re home! I couldn’t take it anymore!” Caio says as soon as he sees me walk in the door. “Your mom left and spent the whole afternoon out, and I’ve been alone this entire time. I thought I’d die of boredom, if that’s even possible.”
It’s possible.
And I know this because I’ve looked up “Can you die of boredom?” and discovered that yes, yes you can. My online search history is embarrassing, and I know it.
“How was therapy?” Caio asks, dragging me back from my thoughts.
“Ah, it was good. Olivia was proud of how things went this week.”
“Such as …?”
“Such as telling Jorge and Bruno to go fuck themselves,” I answer without skipping a beat.
Caio seems shocked. “She was proud? I need to meet this Olivia!”
“Oh, and there was also the weekly challenge, which I won! The one where I had to talk to you, you know.”
“And? Did you get a reward?” Caio asks excitedly.
“I did, but it wasn’t a big deal. Still, I saved one for you.” I take the yogurt candy from my pocket and throw it to him.
Caio catches it, still excited, and makes space for me on the couch.
“I can’t keep the whole thing,” he says.
“But you helped me. And I promised you’d get a prize.”
“Your challenge was to talk to me during the day, right?” he asks, and I feel ridiculous because who needs a therapist to be able to act like a normal human being and have a conversation?
Apparently, me.
“Yeah, that’s what it was,” I answer.
“So my job was merely to exist. And to listen. You did most of the work!” Caio says, opening the wrapper and biting half the candy.
“I think your share of it was to trust me and not think I’d lost my mind,” I say.
“You haven’t lost your mind. Not because of that, anyway.”
“So there are other reasons?” I laugh.
“Exactly. And one of them is that you’ve elected not to share this delicious prize with me,” Caio says, holding out the other half of the candy and wiggling his eyebrows in a way that’s simultaneously funny and, I don’t know, enticing.
“Okay, I’ll take my share,” I say, rolling my eyes and holding out my hand to grab my half.
And then the weirdest thing happens.
Because Caio doesn’t hand me the candy.
He goes to put it directly into my mouth.
And, reflexively, I just open it.
And for a second, the tips of his fingers are inside my mouth.
And this is the weirdest, most wonderful experience I’ve had in the last few years.
But, of course, my mom arrives at that exact moment, and the noise of her key turning the lock makes me jump, sending the candy straight to the back of my throat. I start coughing and can barely breathe. When the door opens, my mom finds Caio pulling my arm up and slapping my back, my face going red as I try to spit out the piece of candy.
Despite the choking that almost got me killed (I’m fine now, thanks for asking), I think my mom’s arrival was timely. Because I wouldn’t know how to deal with the immediate consequences of Caio placing a piece of candy inside my mouth.