AllSports Medicine, West Caldwell, New Jersey....

Jeremy walked up to the counter. At six-one, he was hardly anyone that would be overlooked, but he had grown accustomed to being ignored. He heard a slight rustle to his left and he turned to find a young lady of about twenty-three or so holding a clipboard tight to her chest. Her smile was only just a bit less sweet than her voice.

“Mr. Isaaksen? Hello, I’m Dagmara; I’ll be doing your massage today.” Kind enough, it meant little to Jeremy which of the therapists would be doing the massage since he had never had a massage in his life. She put out her hand and shook it vigorously, which might have looked odd since she was nearly a foot shorter than him. He didn’t weigh much more than her; at least that’s the way it seemed. He was as lanky as they come, and really didn’t look terribly imposing despite his height.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’d like to work on today?” She rattled off several options, styles, approaches and whatnot until he said,

“Whatever you think is best.” She instructed him to disrobe except for his underwear and lay on the table while she was out of the room, and that they would talk about an approach. As she left the room, she smiled and nodded an eerily knowing smile, as if the two were already acquainted. A moment later he was lying face down with his chin in the cushion.

“So, Mr. Isaaksen? I think maybe you have never had a massage….maybe you are embarrassed?” He nodded as much as he could, and his face turned a bright red.

“No need to be ashamed, Mr. Isaaksen, yes? Please feel free to tell me if this in anyway upsets you, okay? But I see something that maybe you forgot?”

Jeremy immediately panicked and put his hand to his torso to check his underwear; it wouldn’t be the first time he had forgotten, but at this point in his life, he almost welcomed exposure, so to speak. He felt course cotton with a wide band and breathed out a sigh….relieved wasn’t the word. He was almost disappointed.

“You forgot to tell the desk if your insurance will reimburse; this is for your injury, yes?” He nodded; forgetting about the car accident had been an easy thing since he wanted to forget it altogether.

“Is there something upsetting you?”

“I….” He struggled to speak. In Jeremy’s twenty-six years on Planet Earth, he had never been touched in any manner, shape, or form since his infancy with either affection or care. His mother was a strict believer in withholding physical affection from him, believing almost ironically that boys grow into men when treated thusly. That Jeremy grew there had been never any doubt. Whom and what he grew to be was entirely in doubt.

“I will touch your shoulders firmly to help establish….contact, since you are not familiar, alright?” He nodded again, this time almost reluctantly. He welcomed the massage; it was the ‘whom’ that might receive the massage that remained not only the issue, but the issue of a lifetime.

“Do you have any questions? Your X-ray reveals a slight scoliosis and Gina notes that you will be working on building your lower back. Why don’t we concentrate on that for today? But whatever you say goes.” The girl seemed to be older than she sounded or appeared. As she laid hands on his back, Jeremy actually felt an odd sensation; likely something he could remember forever. He felt as if someone was taking care of him. After twelve years of taking care of his infirm grandmother before her passing that April, it had been all about her and everyone else.

“No one ever touched you like this, did they?” An innocent enough question, and certainly pertinent to his treatment. But it evoked a very odd response….predictable from his late mother’s perspective, since any show of emotion wasn’t considered manly. Jeremy buried his head in the cushion and began to weep. His shoulders began to shake and he gripped the armrests below with an almost vise-like grasp. Dagmara touched his shoulder softly and spoke in a near whisper.

“Let it out, Mr. Isaaksen, please. It’s okay.“ Instead of leaving him alone, the girl walked to the CD player on the table behind the bed and increased the volume. Dvorak grew louder and Jeremy’s sobs seemed to dissipate into the New World Symphony.

“I am sorry for you,” she said with an almost lilt; her accent did nothing to hid her intent to soothe and comfort. She wasn’t sorry for him. She was sorry with him.

“So much time for everyone else, I would wager, Mr. Isaaksen. And never any time for you.”

“I ….it’s okay….that’s what life’s about, isn’t it?” He said haltingly, trying desperately to convince himself that it was perfectly acceptable to set aside one’s own life for the sake of others; even if that meant it being give away by someone else.

“You have a girlfriend?” An odd and completely unprofessional question, it seemed perfectly acceptable coming from the petite girl who had once again started to massage his back.

“No….never any….and ….” It wasn’t as if he was going to confess anything to her. She was a professional whom he had only met. It was more the scenario of questions and answers he had envisioned time and time again. Who would want someone like him? He was a freak of the very first order.

“You don’t feel like anyone would want you?” She read his mind. Not really, of course, but the girl was very perceptive regarding life and facts and trends about human nature, but she was also very much tuned into how people actually felt and how they expressed those emotions. It didn’t take a psychiatrist to gather that the man who had been sobbing only moments before felt both unloved and unliked and unlovely.

“My question is, Mr. Isaaksen, who wouldn’t want you?” Having never had a single soul attend to his needs, he was like a pauper being clothed for the first time; no shame at all but an entirely wonderful expression of humanity. He was vulnerable, but in the presence of someone who would almost die before betraying a trust.

“I…I’m not….I haven’t….I don’t….” he stammered, trying hard to speak his mind and heart. She continued to work on his shoulders, kneading and pushing and prodding even as her words gently coaxed and invited and drew him out.

“You don’t have to worry about what you cannot or have not or do not, Mr. Isaaksen, please?” She was almost apologetic in her tone, but it proved to be what was needed for him to speak.

“I am not…..Who I am is….You promise you won’t laugh?” His voice broke. A confession best left from most folk’s perspective to a professional such as a therapist or a counselor or a clergyman, Jeremy began to open up for the first time since his twelfth birthday when he told his mother his secret.

“I only laugh at things that are funny, Mr. Isaaksen. What you are going to tell me seems already to me to be sad and lost and hopeless, and I would never laugh at that.” She began to rub his back softly in broad strokes, almost in a way echoing her words as the massage began to soothe more than just his muscles.

“I….” he hesitated. Tears began to stream down his cheeks. She leaned closer to his face and spoke softly once again.

“Mr. Isaaksen? I don’t want you to speak unless you wish; but I understand about not being heard. I really do. I know what it is like to be ignored and lost. What you tell me I will do more than keep as a secret, okay? I will treasure it as the gift it is, for it is a gift for you to trust me. I want you to have a chance to say what you need to say, okay?” She smiled at him and the look in her eyes disarmed the dread that dwelt inside him. He sighed once and looked up at her, biting his lip in the last vestiges of fear before saying finally.

“My name is Marta….” Dagmara looked at him with the most welcoming expression anyone could ever know before returning her attention to the tense shoulders and back of her newest client. After a few moments of silence; awkward for only one of them, the girl spoke.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Marta Isaaksen.”

I don't want to close my eyes
Someone tell me how long I
Can keep this day inside
Somehow in this twisted world I'm really doing fine
You can say this piece of mind was never really mine
I don't always wake up this alive, but I have you
so I feel fine...

Next: Marta's Chance