3. The new guy

"Sit down, please." He pointed to the chair in front of him.

There was a tattoo between his thumb and forefinger. Also in the forearm. Always on the right arm. He wore a bracelet and his hands were full of rings as if he had given a rock show. On the right side of his face was a small mole, his hair was cut from the back and carelessly with some unruly curls on top that fell on his forehead. While I was physically studying him he was reading something on a notebook of yellowed paper while wrinkling his forehead and placing his lips on the tattoo by shaking the thick black pen.

"Hmm interesting."

He said softly and turned to look me in the eye. There was a coffee in black in his eyes.

"So Tara, why did you worry a little while ago when you saw from the window?" He continued.

"I did not worry, I was looking at the new curtains."

"I wonder because Mr. Jefferson, who kept a notebook about his patients in case you didn't know, writes that you look out of the window and you are confused as if searching for something behind it."

"I did not know that he was a poet. Usually poets refer to freedom behind windows."

"He also writes that you are very smart, manipulative and always have an excuse ready to cover things."

"Aren't we here to talk about the kind of mental disorders I have, or are we going to talk about the fact that I see the window, the chair, you?"

"I think the latter as a disorder would be love."

He says calmly and with a laugh.

"I did not understand."

"To see someone in the eye means to see someone's soul, they say."

He got up and sat down on the corner of the table to my right.

-Maybe.

"In fact, I'm a little unclear about why you're here. Tell me, what are you doing here?"

" I think you asked me a little while ago, it was my turn to be interviewed."

" Oh! You are too smart to be here, what are you doing in this place?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yes please!"

"No one is crazy in this place, you label us. So let me get out, if I'm that smart."

"Where will you go if I let you out?"

"Somewhere. Why do you want to know?"

"Let's say you have nowhere to go at the moment, here you have a place to sleep, free food .."

"I'm locked up here!"

"Think well Tara, you are here for a reason. Are your eyes ready to see? Because no one sees if it is not ready. "

"What do you mean by this?"

"When the moment comes, meanwhile think."

I turned my head to the window, he was not there. He had left me again, he was gone. I felt empty.

"What are you looking for outside the window?"

"When the time comes, meanwhile I have some things to do. " I tried to get up from the chair but he put his hands on both sides blocking me.

"In the notebook it was written that you have an obsession to run away at the culmination of the 'interview' did you call it?"

He went to the door that was behind me and locked it by inserting the key in his pants pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"We are not done yet." He sat down in his chair.

"You still have other patients waiting."

"No one expects if they do not know when it is their turn. Go on. If you want we can stay here all night looking into each other's eyes and fall in love." He laughed devilishly.

"Love doesn't function like that."

"How is it then?" He leaned back in his chair without taking his eyes off me with that strange smile on his face.

"Did you come to do your job or flirt with patients?"

"Oh do not worry I'm doing the job I came for. Tell me have you ever been in love?"

"What has this got to do with it?"

"The last time you met Mr. Jefferson you talked about love and his marriage."

"Has he written everything? Can I see it please?" I reach out to pick up the notebook without waiting for the answer, but he is faster and picks it up by waving it in the air.

"Huh, only I can read this."

"Idiot." I sighed in a low voice.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Okay, if you don't speak you will not go out of that door. I do have time, we can stay here. "

"We can stay here."I repeated ironically.

"What are you searching for outside that window?"

After a pause of silence he asked again:

"Tara Butlo?"

"Doctor?"