Fifth Visit SAMUEL (SAMMY) GORDON, 15 years old “Hi, Friend Sammy Gordon.” “Hi, Friend Dr. B.” “Do you know it makes me feel good to be around you?” “You’re just trying to rattle my cage.” “Uh-huh, I’m trying to release you from your cage.” “I think you’re getting the dumb door open a little.” “I think you are getting the dumb door opened a lot!” “I tried the light bit last week. I even showed it to my mom and Dorie and Dana.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, they liked it as much as I do. In fact, Mom and I even hung a bright light permanently in a corner of the laundry room, and we put a beanbag chair under it. And you know what else?” “No, what?” “I’m ready to take my tapes home to relisten and relisten to them right there in my very own light therapy corner.” He thought for a few seconds. “Maybe the one I’m going to make today I won’t. I didn’t think I’d ever tell anybody in the world about that descent into Hell that I chose to take.
