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9

Pills to Kill Pain

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Austin Clarke was actually twenty-eight years

old, even though he could probably pass for a senior in high school or at least a freshman in college. His uncle really did own the physical therapy company. but Austin told me his father wasn't happy he was working for his uncle, his mother's brother.

"My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps instead," Austin explained. "He owns an electric switch company in New Jersey. but I never found it very interesting or challenging to spend your life frying to manipulate costs so you could be more competitive in your bidding for jobs.

"My uncle Byron was always into health and physical fitness. He was a runner up in one of those Mr. Olympia contests, body builders, you know? My father thought he was wasting his time, but while my uncle was at the health clubs, he got interested in physical therapy and went to school for it. Then, he started his own company. I guess he was a big influence on me because I began working out and studying health foods and everything. Eventually. I got into it. too.

"Needless to say, my father's not going around bragging about my accomplishments."

"Why not? You're helping people who need you," I said. "Why wouldn't he boast?"

"It's a father-son thing, I guess. Manly pride stuff. Every father hopes his son wants to be like him and be as interested in his business, the things that interest him. Parents are always trying to make themselves over in their children, forgetting their children are individuals too," he said. "Sony," he quickly added. "I don't mean to on a soapbox my first day."

"That's all right. I agree with you anyway."

We were outside. After a little over an hour of warm-up, stretching and some strengthening exercises. Austin decided I should always include fresh air as part of my therapy. It was a warm summer day, even a little humid. but I didn't mind. He pushed me along the path toward the lake. When we got down to the shore and the small dock, he dipped his hand in the water and nodded.

"Not as cold as I thought it would be," he said. "Anyone ever swim in this?"

"Not for a long time. Why?"

"Aqua therapy is very effective," he said.

"You mean you expect me to go swimming?" I asked. astonished.

"Sure, why not? It's still summer and the days are hot enough, aren't they?"

I shook my head.

"No way. I wasn't much of a swimmer before I got injured. I didn't have all that much opportunity. I'm a city girl and my school didn't have an outdoor or indoor pool. I didn't even go swimming until I started school here in my senior year."

"Hey, we all came from the ocean, don't you remember? It comes natural to us. We'll see. I think this could do you a world of good, especially these dog days."

"Dog days'?" I laughed.

"Isn't that the way you Southern girls would put it?"

"I'm no Southern girl and you don't have much of a Southern accent. Where are you from?" I asked him.

He smiled and stood up.

"Trenton. New Jersey. My mother's the Southerner. She was born and raised in Norfolk. I have a younger sister who loves to sound like a Southern belle, honey," he said overacting a Southern accent. "Her name is Heather Sue Clarke and she always goes by Heather Sue. If someone calls her just Heather, she'll correct them and say, it's Heather Sue. She's been doing that ever since she was three.

"What about you?" he asked. "You have any brothers or sisters?'" He looked back at the house. "This is a pretty big house to be in all by yourself. Where are your parents? Both working? Why is your aunt in charge of all this?"

I stared up at him and he just broke out into laughter.

"Sorry, sorry," he said holding up his hand. "Didn't mean to overwhelm you with my nosiness and hit you with a shotgun of questions."

"That's all right," I said. Then I sat back enjoying the air cooling over the water for a moment before I started.

Here I go again. I thought.