CENTER OF ATTENTION
by Ellen Pepper
Fred had an overwhelming secret, though. A secret shared with no one -
incapacitating stage fright. He hid it well. No one could tell that he felt paralyzed inside, his mouth too dry to swallow. Frozen like a statue with fear. Not wanting to be looked at. Not wanting to be seen. Terror.
It wasn't until he heard his cue to go on that his body would relax back into a normal human form. His grace returned on stage. He enthralled the audience with no apparent effort. He was the center of attention.
Fred decided that he wanted to be rid of this disabling feeling. He wanted to approach each performance with the same cavalier insouciance that he'd seen others exhibit before a show.
Therefore, he took himself to a therapist.
While in the waiting room that was used by several therapists to hold their incoming clients, he saw that a man sitting across from him was not doing well. He was hyperventilating and red-faced and sweating and groaning.
Fred leaned forward and asked, "Do you need medical attention? You don't seem to be well."
The man didn't look in his direction, just continued to give the appearance of someone about to have a medical crisis.
None of the others in the room looked at either of them. Fred found this to be unsettling.
Fred asked the man again, this time a bit louder.
Suddenly, a door across the hall was abruptly opened and a shrew-faced woman, a therapist, entered the waiting room and shushed Fred. A loud and harsh shush, at that. A rather rude shush.
Fred said, "This man needs to be seen by a doctor, he's in distress."
The woman snapped out, "You will not speak to anyone other than your therapist while on these premises."
Fred: "On the contrary, I will speak when someone appears to be in need of medical attention."
Therapist: "Silence yourself."
Fred, becoming annoyed and somewhat frightened, stood up and said, "Ok, time for me to leave." He headed toward the exit.
Therapist: "You have a session scheduled. You will not leave."
Fred, with determination, replied: "I've changed my mind. Some who call themselves therapists are far too damaged to be of benefit to anyone in need. I'm already broken enough, lady."
As Fred walked up Madison Ave on his way to Broadway, in the sunlight that was blinding after the dimly lit waiting room, the disconcerting silence of the clients there, their seeming lack of empathy, caused a shifting in his subconscious.
A memory rose up. A most important memory.
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Fred was 5 years old. He was larking about with several other military brats while their mothers sat outside with them, enjoying a coffee klatch. It was a blazingly sunny, sweltering August afternoon. Fred was giddy with delight. He was the life of the party. Fred was laughing boisterously and racing around.
Fred was attracting comments from the mothers. They were telling his mum that he was very charming. His mother was not pleased or amused. Fred was taking the attention away from her carefully manicured appearance. She was there to create envy and her son was interfering with that plan.
She called Fred over to her. He could tell by her tone of voice that she was not pleased with him. He was accustomed to this.
As soon as he was near enough, she grabbed him roughly and stripped off all of his clothes, leaving him standing naked in front of everyone he knew.
"How do you like being the center of attention now, Mr. Show Off?!," she spat out with undisguised venom.
Silence descended. Fred stood there alone, exposed, the sun beating down on his vulnerable flesh. He clenched his teeth and fists. He closed his eyes. He became immobile, as if in a tableau.
The other mothers weren't certain whether or not this was a disturbing attempt at a joke or a misguided disciplinary action... but the boy had done no wrong.
One mother gave a small chuckle. Another tried to giggle but it fell flat.
Then all the mothers stood one after another and, without a word, took their children by the hand to return to their own homes.
Still Fred stood there - a frozen-hearted 5 year old statue who was once a happy-go-lucky boy.
His mother had gone inside to smoke her cigarettes and drink her beer.
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In remembering that incident, he was freed. Knowing when and where and why the fear began was the key that opened the door to being his own true self. The blight was removed from his soul and he began to walk a new path.
Fred had found Enlightenment on the way to an afternoon matinee.
Smiling, he whispered, "It's show time, folks."
©Ellen Pepper 2024
