I'm Not Crazy: Chapter Two

“Hey, Malcolm?” I said as we walked down the hall.

“Hm?” Malcolm said, tapping his leg with his pen.

“Uh… Hey,” I said, laughing awkwardly, “I know this'll sounds weird, but, um… What did I say to Steven? When we were in group?”

Malcolm eyed me, looking confused, “Just now?”

I nodded and he said, “Well, uh… You called us all screwed up psychos and then you called Steven ‘Bunny Boy’. That seemed to really hurt his feelings.”

Malcolm started tapping his pen on his leg more rapidly and I said, “I did?”

Malcolm eyed me again and said slowly, “Yeah, you did. Are you okay?”

“What else did I say?” I asked, confused.

Steven whistled and said, “Gee, you said quite a bit. I think the worst part was when you said that to Steven and Rich told you to lay off. Then you said ‘what are you going to do about it, Cry Baby?’”

“I did?” I asked, surprised.

Malcolm nodded, looking at me like I was crazy. Well…

“Also,” Malcolm said, “Veronica sarcastically said that you were good at making first impressions and you said, ‘why are you so nosy? You should take care of yourself and not others’. Then she asked why you were such an ass.”

“She did?” I said, “…. And…. I-I said all that?”

“Yes, you did.” Malcolm said, “Are you feeling alright?”

I shook my head and said, “Uh, yeah. I’m fine, th-this has happened before. Sometimes when I get really stressed, I get kind of… Weird.”

Malcolm nodded and said, “Well, don’t we all? Just down this hall.”

I nodded and followed him down a hallway.

Malcolm paused at a door and took a little spray bottle and Kleenex package out of his pocket.

I watched curiously as he sprayed the door handle and swabbed it off with a tissue. Then, he tapped the doorknob, then the doorframe, with his finger. He did this back and fourth what seemed like a million times.

When he was finished with the weird finger-tappy-thingy, I said, “Hey, what gives?”

Malcolm looked at me and said quickly, “Oh, it’s nothing, nothing, nothing. Nothing at all, nothing at all, nothing at all…”

“Yeah, okay, it’s nothing.” I said, “You don’t have to say it twenty times.”

Malcolm gave me a look that I couldn’t really name and he opened the door.

Finally. I thought.

I followed Malcolm into the room and he said, “Well, this is our room.”

I went to put my backpack on one of the beds and he said, “Oh, hold on, hold on. J-just wait one second please.”

“Um, okay.” I said as Malcolm took my backpack.

“Here,” He said, going over to the other bed, “This one is yours.”

He set my backpack on the bed and straightened it against the wall.

I watched Malcolm as he went over to the door, closed it, and did his weird wall-tappy-thingy again. This time I counted how many times he did it; thirty times, back and fourth.

I eyed him as he turned around and he smiled, laughing a little. Malcolm was almost dorky. He was wearing a sweater vest and tan slacks, you know, that kind of thing. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked the guy so far, but he was just kind of… Weird.

Malcolm laughed nervously and said, “Yeah, like I said, it’s nothing, really. It seems that everyone here has a ‘nothing’. Just like my ‘nothing’, just like your ‘nothing.’”

“My nothing?” I said, “What do you mean?”

Malcolm began straightening his already perfectly straightened bed sheets and said, “Well, you know, earlier you kept saying weird things, then you would say ‘oh, it’s nothing’. So, whatever that is, that’s your ‘nothing’.”

“My nothing, I see.” I said, nodding and sitting down on my bed. I half expected Malcolm to rush over and tell me I couldn’t sit there, but instead, he just glanced at my bed and smiled tightly at me.

“You mind telling me about your ‘nothing’?” I asked.

Malcolm hesitated and, without looking at me, he said, “Uh… I have OCD.”

“OCD?” I said.

“Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.” Malcolm explained, “You see, I just have some, uh, compulsions, I guess you could say. Some things that I do…”

“Like that thing you did with the door and the tappy thing?” I asked, feeling stupid.

Malcolm nodded and smiled weakly at me, “Uh, yeah. That’s one of ‘em.”

“Oh,” I said, “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a hot button topic…”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Malcolm said, smiling again, “You have the right to know. I mean, we’re going to live together for who knows how long…”

I nodded and tried to smile.

Malcolm sat on his bed and said, “Well, it’s eight thirty-four and a half, it’s about time we got to bed.”

I nodded like I agreed that eight thirty was a good time to go to bed and lied down.

I closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep.

Then, out of nowhere, the light started turning on and off… Over and over again.

I sat up and looked at Malcolm. He had the cord from the ceiling light in his hand and he was turning the light on and off on and off on and off on and off.

“Sorry,” He said nervously when I caught his eye, “I-it’s nothing, really…”

I grinned at him and said, “Sure, it’s not. Now, would you mind stop doing ‘nothing’?”

Malcolm looked nervous and then started laughing awkwardly, “Gee, you see there, Buddy, I sure would love to, but I can’t…”

He stopped suddenly and gasped.
“What?” I asked, “What is it?”

Malcolm smiled again and said, “Oh, noth-…. I, uh, I just lost count, that’s all.”

He lost count. I thought, Does he do everything thirty times?

I smiled tightly and said, “’Night, Malcolm.”

“Goodnight, Phil.” Malcolm said. He continued to turn the light on and off.

I put my pillow over my head and tried to sleep. It was 8:39, I fell asleep at about 1:24. Apparently, the light thing and the door thing aren’t Malcolm’s only ‘compulsions’. He does the light thing when he gets up to go to the bathroom, along with turning the tap on and off, on and off, on and off.

On and off, On and off, On and off, On and off.