Free Psycho Therapy by Alan Spencer

fingers and blood. “ Grah-gaaaaack! ”
    Removing his fingers, the doctor slapped a wad of tissue onto the pavement.
    Rob faltered to his knees, aspirating on blood. It spurted in gobs out the concave holes in his neck. His larynx gushed in the blaring sunlight.
    She fell to her knees beside him, erupting in panic. “Rob!”
    The stranger wiped the red off onto his lab coat. “It’s going to be a scorcher today. Perhaps I can ask you to step inside that building behind you to cool down.”
    “"W-what are you saying?”
    The lascivious smile was like a slithering worm. “We’ll need to stay cool for what I’m about to do to you.”

Blessed
    He didn’t have a chance to enjoy an afternoon of arcade games or the breakfast of donuts because Craig was displaced yet again. He didn’t realize the transition until the change was completed. It was instantaneous. This time, he was sitting on a chair in his childhood bedroom. Moments after he arrived, he closed his eyes without willing it. He sensed others in the room. Hands were rubbed together. A throat was cleared. A nervous tension floated about the room.
    A man’s voice spoke, “Are you ready, Tina?”
    His mother replied, though she was nervous. “Yes, I’m ready.”
    It was Parker Stevens’s voice asking the question. He was the pastor at Neiman Heights Non-Denominational Church. He was also their next-door neighbor.
    He was eight years old at this time. He was also scared. His mother tore him from playing outside just moments ago. It was two thirty, he remembered, and the time was very important. Brandon would be home from work soon. Craig later learned today was the only day Parker could perform Craig’s indoctrination into the church. Today, he was being blessed. And if Brandon learned of this blessing, he’d punch a wall—and later punch Tina and possibly Parker.
    His father was a devout believer in nothing. Craig asked him when he was older if he was an atheist. Brandon’s response was, “That’d mean I believe in some organized belief, and I don’t. Only thing I believe in is a dick in a pussy.”
    The sense of haste was evident. Parker had skipped reading the scriptures he’d planned to recite. Parker touched both hands to Craig’s head. They were wet with holy water. “Lord, I invite Craig Horsy into our congregation. He is a young boy with potential to do good in the community and in his life. Guide him with your Holy Spirit and allow him to overcome sin in its many forms. Love him with your grace, support him with your infinite knowledge. Do you accept Christ into your life, Craig?”
    He hadn’t been aware the question was addressed to him. The adult in the child’s body waited. He’d forgotten how he’d reacted to the private blessing back then.
    Parker repeated, “Do you accept Christ into your life?”
    Tina whispered, “Say yes.”
    “Yes,” he said, too loud.
    Parker wasn’t pleased. “Come to Christ willingly…come to him.”
    The front door opened. Brandon was home. Tina gasped, startled and ready to panic. “He’s already home. Damn it.”
    Parker turned up the heat and shifted into prayer overdrive. “God, guide this creation into your arms. He’s been blocked by a man worthy of your love and divinity. He has lost his way, but do not give up on this man. Watch over the Horsy family in the future and pray they can one day embrace your Holy Spirit together.”
    Dad’s not going to embrace any Holy Spirit.
    He snickered on accident.
    Tina elbowed him. “Craig, stop it.”
    Parker continued unaffected by his outburst or Brandon moving about downstairs. “Come to Christ willingly, Craig, come to him.”
    Ssssssst.
    Brandon had opened a can of Lark’s beer. He concluded the day of patching pot holes and cutting up the roads with a cement saw with liquid refreshment. Again, Craig had to stifle a laugh.
    “Let me talk to him,” Parker urged her. He failed to end the prayer without the habitual “Amen”. Did that mean the