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Logan: Tobias Beecher and Christopher Keller.
Sister Pete: What about them?
Logan: There's a lot of bad blood.
Sister Pete: There's a lot of spilled blood.
Logan: Why?
Sister Pete: The men in Oz are very distressed, mentally, physically, and morally.
Logan: Christopher Keller, for example, is a sexual predator, so does that factor into his problems with Beecher?
Sister Pete: You know, I'm really not comfortable, ah, specifically talking about these cases.
Logan: Okay. Have you ever been harassed? Have you ever been sexually threatened by one of the inmates?
Sister Pete: No. No.
~*~*~*~*~
Talking to Ms Logan made me uncomfortable. It brought to the surface issues that remained unresolved between Chris and myself. I had let him back into group after our talk in the computer room. Forced him back into it is more the truth as I used my influence over Tim McManus to threaten Keller with expulsion from Em City if he did not comply with my wishes. But I still found myself unable to extend that olive branch to repair the damage that we had done to each other. No one likes to face their own shortcomings. It is much easier to live in denial and to place the blame on the other person than to admit one's own foolishness.
Ms Logan's questions brought this into sharp focus for me. The time has come for me to accept my responsibility. While one cannot deny that Christopher Keller has been gifted with the powers of seduction, as I told him the first day he walked into my office, it takes two to swing dance. I cannot blame him for my own vulnerability to his charms. That is something that I must meditate on with God. But I do need to ask Chris how he knew, how he so readily found the need inside me that I myself could not see until it was too late.
It is alarming how easily he exposed my weakness, how quickly he aroused desires in me that had lain dormant since my husband's death. I had assumed that my age and my vocation would protect me and shield me from such blatant manipulation. They always had in the past.
This was not the first time an inmate had tried such tactics, but it was the first time I fell for it. And fall I did. Make no mistake of it, I enjoyed Chris's focus on me. One would have to be dead not to. He made me feel powerful and desirable and in a place as desolate as Oz, those emotions are more potent than any drug. I sometimes wonder if perhaps Tobias got caught up in the same web that I did. Although, to be fair, I now believe that Chris's feelings for Tobias were genuine. And vice versa.
It is ironic how easy it is to see the vulnerability in other people, but not in one's self. As a psychologist, I am a trained observer, but I must confess that as a woman, I suffer the same myopic sensibilities as everyone else. That might have been my greatest sin in this whole affair. I let my own wounded pride stand in the way of comforting Tobias. His son died horrifically at the hands of a man who had already damaged him almost beyond repair and I stood by and did nothing. I am truly ashamed of my impotence.
I've made my amends to Tobias, and will work to regain his trust. And the fact that I have admitted my transgressions to him and asked forgiveness stands in stark contrast to my actions, or lack there of, toward Chris. It is time for me to show him the same contrition and repentance that I extended to Tobias. I owe him that much and more.
I now know what needs to be done.
~*~*~*~
It takes another threat of expulsion to get Chris to agree to return to therapy with me. He enters my office much like a child awaiting a scolding. I can't really blame him for his distrust. For all my righteous anger, I have wronged him, not the other way around. And only I can repair the damage that has been done.
I smile at him and motion for him to sit down. "Thank you for coming, Chris. I know you didn't want to."
He settles back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. "I wasn't given much choice in the matter. Funny how that happens a lot here in Oz."
I find myself smiling at his sarcasm. "Yes, I'm sure it does. How have you been?"
He looks at me like I've grown a second head. "Peachy. And you?"
"We're not here to talk about me." The words spill out with much more force than I had intended. In my determination not to repeat my past mistakes, I unfortunately make some new ones. Consciously, I know that my wounds may have been self inflicted, but that does not mean they can't still ache. I must better temper my reactions or nothing will be resolved.
I can see in his eyes that he caught the harshness of my tone. He bares his teeth to me, his lips curling into a knowing smile. "No, we wouldn't want to go there now would we."
"I apologize for my tone Chris and for how we've left things. It's my hope that we can reach an understanding."
"Oh, I understand, Sister. Perfectly."
And I can see that he does. I can see that he already knows my intentions. It's funny how time and experience can bring with it such sagacity. While my education has provided me with the knowledge to evaluate and assess someone, I will never be Chris Keller's equal in that skill. Whether he is self taught or just naturally gifted, he can read a person from the moment his eyes meet theirs. I shudder at the power a talent like that can wield. It is going to take more that mere words to bridge the gap between us.
I meet his eyes with my own. "I'm sure you do Chris, but I still need to make my peace. Will you let me?"
He blinks, surprised that I've put the decision into his hands. He recovers quickly. "As I said before, it ain't like I've got a choice."
"Yes, you do Chris. I'm giving you the choice."
He cocks his head to the side contemplating my words. "Thought you said, 'God chooses us'?"
I smile at him. "God does choose us, but it's up to us to accept the offer."
He leans forward and fiddles with the stapler on my desk. "And if we turn him down?"
"I have no doubt, he'll up the ante," I say with a grin. He meets my smile with one of his own. I think we may have found a starting point.
I steel my eyes to meet his once more. "I'm not talking about God right now Chris. I'm talking about you and me. You have the choice to continue with therapy or not. I won't force you to come back."
He doesn't believe me. "Really?"
"Really. I do hope you'll agree to continue though."
He scrubs his hands across his cheeks. "Do I have to decide today?"
"No. Why don't we make an appointment for Thursday and you can decide to show up or not."
"And I won't get in trouble if I don't come back?" He leans back, crossing his arms again, readying for a fight.
"You have my word."
He nods his head in acceptance and rises to leave. "I'll think about it."
"Thank you Chris."
He nods again as he walks through the door. I believe that he will return. I have faith once more. In him, in my own abilities and most importantly in God. And these days I finally understand that faith is more than enough.
—FIN—