The Yellow House Fixes Everything

May I sit down? Thank you. I missed the last bus. What’s that? … Oh, I’m not worried. The schedule online says only another 10 minutes.

It’s a beautiful day. … Well, yes, I guess a gray sky might be gloomy for some people. But I just left the Yellow House, and I feel like a new man.

… Never? Really? I guess I can understand. My landlady’s never been there either. She and I disagree sometimes on things. Honestly, sometimes she acts more like a wife, nagging me. But I’m not too ashamed to admit I needed some direction. And now, thanks to the Yellow House, I’ve gotten it. If you’re having a hard time deciding on something, you should go.

… Why? Because the Yellow House makes you brave enough to make your own choices. No, really! I took a psych class in college where the professor said sometimes we’re afraid to let go of familiar things, even if they’re not good for us, because the unknown is so scary, we’d rather stick with what we know, even if it’s awful. My landlady says stuff like that too. “Peter,” she says all the time, “why can’t you just man up?” So I finally decided to do it.

… Oh, I heard a couple of patrons whispering about it in the stacks one day—I work in the library—and it sounded exactly like what I needed. So I started looking for it.

On nice days like today I like to take the bus, even though I was a little late to work this morning because I fell. That’s where I got this cut right here. I scraped up my left hand too. Had to take off my ring, the one my landlady gave me as a gift when I moved in.

… I, um, tripped on the curb. … No, not too much. I just went back inside, straight to the medicine cabinet like I always do, and patched myself up. I was putting on the Neosporin when something told me today was the day to go to the Yellow House. And I’m so glad I did.

… Oh, it’s simple. You walk in, and Delilah, at the front desk, schedules a session with the doctor. … What? … You know, Delilah didn’t mention his name, and neither did he. He just shook my hand and said hello. But that handshake told me everything would get better.

… Nothing. No needles, no medication, no strange devices. The doctor just asked me to talk. He asked me questions about myself and my day and my life. It felt like I was there for days, even though it wasn’t more than an hour.

… Um, a little ordinary, if I have to be honest. I probably wouldn’t have glanced at him twice on the street. But in his office he had this commanding presence that made me open up about all kinds of things. And his last question, boy, it was a whopper.

… He asked me what scared me the most. He was very kind. Put his hand on my shoulder and told me to take a minute. And I needed it, let me tell you. But sitting there, with him being so supportive, it was like I’d woken up after a long night of the darkest, blackest sleep. I’d never had the guts to say it out loud before—what I feared more than anything else—but the doctor made it easy. I wanted to tell him. So I did.

           He said he could help, and I’m sure I looked as skeptical as you do now. Because that’s how these cons go, right? But he didn’t try to sell me anything. I just had to focus on what I feared most and then push it away.

… It does sound like that, doesn’t it? I thought he’d give me a hope crystal! … It feels so good to laugh about this. That’s how I know what happened was real. It isn’t sitting on my chest anymore in that big block of fear.

… Right, so the doctor opened a window and told me to move my chair there. Then he asked me to close my eyes and think about my fear. After about a minute, he started—okay, this will sound strange, but he started humming.

… No, it wasn’t a tune I recognized. I got a little distracted at first, but then my mind got clear.  I sat there and just…thought. About my fear. About how it ruled me. How I no longer wanted it in my life. I felt safe for the first time since I moved into my landlady’s house.

Wow, you have no idea how it feels to say that. That I felt safe.

After a little while, something made me lift my hands and start to push. I probably looked ridiculous, pushing at air. But it felt solid to me.

           I pushed and pushed, and then the humming changed in its pitch, and I opened my eyes and—I know this is going to sound bizarre, but I swear it’s true—I pushed the fear out. Then the window closed by itself.

           I felt…light. Weightless. I haven’t felt that light since I was a kid and wanted to land in a cloud and float across the sky.

           The doctor asked if my fear was gone, and I said yes. He said it takes a truly brave person to get rid of what they fear most. Then he shook my hand again, and that was it.

           Oh, there’s the bus. … Now? Honestly…I mean, it’ll sound ridiculous, but… Okay, if you insist.

           I’ve always wanted to take a trip overseas. Anywhere. Does that sound silly?

… Because most people would say something really dramatic. But ever since I’ve moved into my current house, I’ve had this urge to go far away. And now I can.

… What changed? I’ve pushed my fear out of my life. It’s gone. It’s gone, and I’m free.

           There’s the Yellow House! You should go. It changed my life forever. And now, if you don’t mind, I think I’m just going to take a catnap. Would it be terrible if I asked you to nudge me awake when we get close to the Rosemont stop? … Oh, don’t worry. I’ve become a light sleeper, thanks to my landlady.

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… Yawn. Thanks so much. That was so refreshing. And not a minute too soon. There’s Rosemont—oh, my, that siren’s loud. And there goes another fire truck. And two police cars. I wonder where they’re all headed. I—wait, why did the bus stop?

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I think I’m going to get out here. Something tells me…I’m sorry, I know this sounds melodramatic, but something tells me I should go now. I hope my landlady’s okay.

… Really? But we just met… That’s kind of you. If I have to be honest, I feel sorry for—Yes, Driver, right here. I don’t live too far; don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you didn’t stop at the stop—Sorry, it’s right on Rosemont. Yes, where all the big houses are. My landlady inherited hers from her family. She’s really proud that it’s the biggest on the block; three stories tall.

… Hmm? Oh, I was saying I feel sorry for my landlady. I know her from high school. We didn’t run in the same friend circles, but she had a crush on me. A couple of my friends said she was telling everyone we were a couple.

… Delusional is the right word for it. But I figured she’d outgrown it. It was a dumb crush, right? So when I moved back to town and needed a place to live, I didn’t really think much about renting a room in her house. But lately I’ve been thinking about moving out. She’s gotten clingy again—I told you about the ring, right? Well, this is going to sound crazy, but it was almost like a wedding band.

… Okay, beyond delusional. But that’s why I wanted to go to the Yellow House, to get some clarity. And now I have it. I’m going to move out. No more tripping on curbs or running into doorframes or dealing with tantrums. I’m done.

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Wow, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looked like the firetrucks were…

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Keep walking. Just…keep walking. I can’t go there yet. Did you see the open window at the top of the house? That’s the attic. And it looks like…oh my god, is that a sheet on the ground? Is that a body?

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Could that be my…

… You’re right, deep breaths. In and out.

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I know. I know, okay? I know I shouldn’t be smiling. I’m an awful human being. But what did I tell you?

           The Yellow House fixes everything.