Therapeutic Aid

At the behest of Sandra, Claire and I went to see a psychologist. All this dangerous secret hiding and extraordinary abilities have started to strain our relationship. My Claire Bear was growing away from me.

Four months ago, nobody knew much about what was going on with the Bennets. That was how I wanted it. I didn't want anyone to remember a thing. So what was I doing? Well, I did go on a reality show, Who Wants to be a Super Villain?, which is now airing. On the show, I met a stuck up brain in a jar named Nemonok. Nothing says psychology like pretentious disembodiment. So, I gave my former rival a call and scheduled Claire Bear and me an appointment.

"Thank you both foro coming," Dr. Nemonok said inside his Earth office. "It was quite the lengthy commute for me, but the potential for progress is well worth it."

"Ewww! He's, like, a brain. Just a brain!" Claire observed.

"I told you to find yourself a temporary body!" I said to the brain.

"And I told you that such experiments have always failed in the past," it responded. "Communication is the only tool I need to work my mental magic. Shall we begin?"

"Uh, whatever," said Claire.

"Just pretend," I suggested, "that he looks like any other psychologist."

"Yuck! Ewer!" She turned up her nose. "With an icky beard and an awful comb-over?"

"Well, pretend he looks like whatever you want."

"She smiled and starred oddly into his Haitian-proof Plexiglas habitat.

"Now," Nemonok began, "what do you feel is the problem, Claire?"

"He, like, is sooooo mean to me. He treats me like a, like, child or something."

"You are a child!" I interrupted.

"God! See what I mean?"

The brain bobbed up and down and made a noise, "Mmmm hmmmm," then said, "Go on."

"Like, I had this totally hot boyfriend, like way hot, and we, like, even listened to music together and shared the earphones and everything. He liked me, and he was so sweet. And his hair! Okay, that could have used some work. But he did say he'd change it....for me! Did I mention he is so, like, sweet?"

"You did," said the brain.

"...And then Dad goes all ballistic, like always. Now I have to move again. Start all over! Gah! I finally find someone I like, someone I can scare cheerleaders with and Dad flips out. It's like he doesn't care about my feelings!"

"I see. And what do you think, Noah?"

"She's right," I replied. "I don't care about her feelings."

"I see. And how does that make you feel?"

"It makes me feel good."

"I see."

"Does that make me selfish? Am I over-bearing? I'm being too hard on her, aren't I? I'm so obsessed with my own lies that I'm neglecting the very thing my web of deception is meant to protect!"

"Like, duh, Dad!" Claire rolled her eyes.

"She just has to deal with it. We're moving, and that's final."

"But what about my feelings?" she asked.

"I don't care about your feelings. Haven't you been paying attention?"

"I think we've made great progress," Dr. Nemonok said. "Unfortunately, we are out of time. If you are still alive next week, I'd strongly suggest we reconvene to continue this session then."

We got home and greeted Sandra. She looked at us optimistically. "Did it work?"

"Yes," I replied.

Claire said, "No."

"It worked, Claire." I said, giving her the stank eye, with a touch of the crook eye. "Problem solved."

"No! You're still ignoring my, like, needs and stuff."

"I know. That's the point. I'm your father, remember?"

"Gah! You're not even my real father. Bio-Dad wouldn't be all self-obsessed like you!"

She went up to her room promising never to talk to me again. I sat down to check the classifieds for a new home.

"Now, see there?" Sandra said. "I knew therapy would work."