My Wonderful Wandering Mind

My eyes are tiring fast. My focus is completely gone. I look up from my book, just for a minute. It is never only a minute. After an hour of waiting for Dr. Scott, I begin to hallucinate.

A doctor bursts through the door on the other side of the lobby. There is sweat on his brow. Behind his moon shaped spectacles is a look of terror. A sudden crash echoes out of the room he just left. He jumps, startled, and keeps looking behind him. It appears he was the only one to notice, besides me of course. His lips move slower and slower every time I replay the sequence in my head. I've seen more than enough horror films to know he's mouthing out, "zombie". Then he smiles and puts on his dark trench coat, making his way to the exit.

A man stumbles into the lobby after the doctor leaves. He is shorter, unshaven, shifty eyed, and very shady. The shadiness comes from the black sweatshirt he's wearing with the hood pulled over his head. He takes the seat right across from us. I shift around uncomfortably in my seat, checking my back pocket to make sure my wallet is secure. He's eyeing my mom's purse. Awkwardly I slide it farther back in the seat, closer to us. Then a couple of toddlers charge through the entrance door and sprint to their dad. The man smiles as the kids start climbing all over him. A pretty lady walks in after the children and takes the seat beside the man, scowling at the kids.

A nurse speaks in an inaudible tone. A tiny smirk appears. The lobby suddenly erupts with laughter. Tears are pouring out of the faces of her audience. Somebody suggests she start a career in standup. Elated by the confidence her loving fans show in her, she decides to pack her bags and move to L.A.. This does not end happily ever after, as she discovers the comedy business is tough work. Humiliated, ashamed, and pessimistic, she decides to open up a pet store. But for today she is a big fish in a small pond.

Then I look at my family. My brother and mother are so focused on their books. I wonder what people think of us. Perhaps my mother is a crazed bibliophile. Our house is filled to the gills with books. The children are forced to read or they do not eat. Our family is on the America's Most Wanted lists for armed robbery of the Library of Congress. They pray to God the doctor will not call us before we are finished with this chapter.

At last our name is called from the nurse's desk. Another patient gives me a "look" as I walk toward the swinging doors. People are weird.