Unless You Translate It

“Billie Wills, why are you here?”

He shifted in the seat across from me, his comfy chair right in front of the fireplace of this therapy room. He sat directly across from me, a therapist. I shifted, putting a leg across another, and looked at him. Gave him a stern look.

It was dark, the firelight the only source of light. I squinted, straining to see him. I told him to move. He said he was fine. I gripped the arms of my armchair.

"I said, 'Move'!"

"No."

"Yes!" I sighed. "You know what, whatever. You never listen."

“Uh…” He chuckled, putting a pair of sunglasses on like he was standing on the beach, the sun beaming down on him. Putting his paws behind him, the wolf, who was sitting in his chair like a person, put a foot on the other leg’s knee and mused. “Well…” He sighed. “Dunno, therapist. Ms…?” He raised his brows. “Hm?”

“I’m not answering you until you answer my question.”

“Ma’am, I don’t answer questions.” He leaned back. “I listen to the fire. They’re crackling. So I’m listening!”

I sighed. What a sight—a wolf sitting up straight in a therapy chair, not having it. Well, I was not going to have it, either. So I packed up my things—my notepad, papers, documents, portfolio case and sticky notes—and headed out. “If you don’t care, someone else can—”

“No, no!” Billie Wills threw his paws everywhere, leaping up from his chair. “No—ma’am—you don’t—I—”

“You apparently don’t care about the therapy session.” I shook my head. “Ironically, you need therapy for not caring about the session. It’s more about the flickering flames behind you than it is about the session.”

“No, no!” Billie Wills said he wanted to prove himself. “You see, I’m really trying to—”

“Be indifferent?”

I turned to go despite Billie Wills’ protests, eventually telling him I couldn’t. Then, when I got home, I sat in my bedroom, and cried. I really thought he was a great character. He could get under my skin, but I felt I just wanted to sit with him and talk. He…

I bit my lip. “Why do I do this? Why am I always so…thinking about what’s next?” I gripped the bed. “Why am I such a go-go-go person? It’s not wrong to believe in the next great thing, but…” I got off the bed, and made some tea in the kitchen. It was small—I lived in an apartment—but I wanted bigger. Maybe I could move. But my roommate who was going to leave said there were no good apartments where I wanted to live. So I shook my head, and catapulted towards a townhouse or something within my budget. I had to get a job. I already liked my therapy job. But…

The phone rang. “Hello?” I put the teacup on a coaster and sat on the kitchen table’s only other chair.

“Hey, Ma’am?”

I pulled the phone a little away from my ear. “Yes?” I said.

“What?” Billie Wills said. Wow, I thought. He isn’t excited this time. I returned the phone to my ear.

“Yes?”

“Well, I was thinking. And I wanted to know whether you’d be interested in staying as my therapist. Because I wasn’t very nice. My friends—my dudes—are going out every night, and I have therapy. So I wanted to know whether you could cancel me. I mean, I don’t need it. So, I don’t have to be your therapy person, or animal, right?”

I was silent. Then I started tearing up. I just wanted to move on, too. Billie Wills was the best out of my clients. So, I sniffed. “Hey,” I managed. “Can you not go? I really want you to stay. Please?”

“Well, I’m a wolf. I’m not a person—”

“I don’t care, Billie Wills. You’re the best. You may annoy me, but you’re not boring, or frustrating all the time—”

“Just some of the time?”

I snorted. “Yeah. Anyway, I don’t want to leave you, either. I want to move, but I also like this job.”

“Well, maybe you could move by inviting other clients. I mean, I don’t think I’m your only client.”

“No, but you’re the best.”

“Hey—what’s keeping you?”

I sighed. He wasn’t so good I could tell him anything. I kept it short. “Well, I don’t know how to move on. Letting go is almost impossible. Only if I get what I want, or something’s in it for me. Other than that, I don’t see the point of sacrificing. I just need someone to uplift me. Someone to encourage me. I don’t have anyone.”

The phone was silent, and then Billie Wills hung up. A part of me wished I didn’t tell him anything. He was some client out there, going out on the town or something. Sucking on McDonald’s straws, grabbing his friends for a selfie with him in the middle with those sunglasses always on. When he wasn’t dancing and singing softly to himself out in public—on rooftops, park benches, hanging from tree branches or on top of bartenders’ counters—he was throwing poker chips out to whoever won, grumbling to himself he wasn’t so good. But, he said, whatever. Flipping those sunglasses onto his head made him smile again.

I approached my roommate before she left for good and after the last box was stored in the moving truck for good. “Hey.” I said softly, and she turned, tucking a nervous strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah?”

“Um, I was wondering…could you give me some ideas for entertaining others for when my new roommate comes?”

“Uh…” She turned away, heading towards her car as the movers packed the truck up. Opening her door, she called, “Get some games at the store. I don’t know.” Then she was gone, seemingly instantly. I stood there, turning around and closing the door.

“Billie,” I said, once I picked up the phone. “I’m not leaving.”

“Yes!”

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, smiling a little, imagining him punch the air.

“Oh, man! I got to tell them.”

Yeah, me too.

Soon, my new roommate moved in with me. She told me she had some friends out in the town, and I said I’d love to join her. “Yeah, come this Sunday. We’re having a party for one of my new coworkers. It’s her birthday.”

“Sure!”

Excited I was going to meet some people (unlike with my last roommate, who snickered at me whenever I asked whether we could have a popcorn party), I went and had fun. But I also felt a little on the outside, looking in. Or inside, looking on the outside. Whatever the phrase, I didn’t feel completely well. I called Billie Wills, saying I needed him to come to my apartment when my roommate was out at the dentist’s.

“Yeah?”

He asked this when I answered the door, he standing there. “What’s up?”

Nervous but excited to tell him, I said I noticed my hands became paws and my ears became wolf’s ears when I was cleaning the toilet. I let out a noise, and it was a wolf’s howl. He stared at me, and I shapeshifted right in front of him. Then his eyes bulged. “I thought you were just my therapist!”

“Guess not.”

I returned as a human, and then closed the door. “Let’s go.”

I left everything, us walking down the steps as wolves, he grinning the whole time.

I felt I fit in.  

No, I said to myself. As the roaring fire howled behind him as he sat there, enjoying every moment of our therapy session, I did.

No more moving.

I looked at Billie Wills as he got up from his chair.

“So,” he said, cocking an eyebrow, “how much is it?”

“Four hundred sixty dollars.”

He grabbed a pocketful of money and stuffed it in my hand. “Come visit my mansion some day. There are wolves waiting to meet you!”

I smiled, and packed up my things. I checked, turning into a wolf. I looked up at him.

“Really?”

After staring bug-eyed, he nodded slowly. “Yep!”  

I teared up. I couldn't believe it.

"I am moving on."

As we discussed things, Billie Wills shook his head. "You know, I can invite them here."

"Okay!"

I couldn't believe it.

His friends became my friends.

Our friends had fun every night.

Right after our therapy sessions.