Ransom Week Day 1 - primum non nocere - “first, to do no harm”
There’s something to be said about impulse decisions. There’s a certain thrill that rises in a person’s bloodstream and makes the brain all fuzzy-happy-feely. There’s also a lack of time to be stressed, concerned, or overwhelmed.
But the best thing Justin can figure about impulse decisions is that they’re made with the gut. Not the head, which works itself into such a frenzy it can sometimes paralyze the rest of the body. And not the heart, either, which tugs itself into so many different directions it’s hard to know if the final decision is in his own best interest, or that of one of the other dozens of important people in his life.
No; impulse decisions are made with the firmness and sincerity of pure intuition. There’s second guesses which can arise, sure. But there’s nothing like the clarity that comes after recklessly proclaiming a decision, even if you’re not sure if it’s the right one.
Set the timer and give yourself the 20 seconds to think it through and then blurt out the answer before the beep comes and in that one single moment after doing so your entire body will react and you will know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, if what just came out of your mouth was the right thing or not.
And then you’ll have your correct answer.
That’s why Justin said it out loud before he’d ever really given it any thought.
“I don’t wanna go to medical school.”
The attic was quiet, Holster having been in class at the time, and the rest of the Haus mates downstairs but not being overly obnoxious. There was an open notebook in his lap and a textbook resting on his knees and a weight lifted off his shoulders.
He didn’t wanna go to medical school.
Not yet, anyway. Maybe, not ever.
He put some more thought into it, shared it with Holster, argued about it with Holster, and then set plans into motion that would keep him moving in a forward direction without having to commit to throwing the idea of medical school out the window just yet.
And then he made another impulse decision and asked Holster to borrow the Jeep so he could drive the 9 hours back to Toronto to inform his parents.
“What do you mean you haven’t told your parents?” Holster had asked.
“I mean I haven’t told them,” Justin had replied, shoving some clothes into the overnight bag he used on roadies. “And I need to.”
“Well yeah, but-”
“Now.”
“Ok but-”
“Right now, Holtzy, I need to be in a car on my way home to tell them I’m not going.”
“Ok, ok, I got you, lemme just-”
“Alone.”
Holster had been upset and had argued but Justin was adamant. Some things in life required an audience, a support system, a source of encouragement. But others could only be done if no one else was around to make Justin feel like he was doing this for any reason other than for himself.
The drive had passed in a blur of highway lanes, billboard signs, and gas stations. The radio had went fuzzy and silent for a while and left Justin in static filled quiet, but it was an absent quiet. Like the kind you don’t even notice is happening until it’s almost over and your mind comes back to your body and you realize you’re one traffic light away from your destination.
Pulling up outside his childhood home at 4 AM had felt strange, like seeing a behind the scenes picture of the set from your favorite tv show that stopped airing twelve years ago. It’s been a while since you’ve even watched any re-runs, but the faces in the picture are all just as you remember them, even if the colors on the photo are faded and you can tell it was taken on a camera with technology that’s completely obsolete by now.
A knock on a bedroom window and an awkward half-hug with his little sister in the doorway were the only thing he really took in before he was lying in his old bed, leg bouncing, body shaking, and heart racing.
His parents were creatures of habit, and his mom emerged from her room at exactly 5:56 AM.
Justin made another impulsive decision and said “hey mom” just loud enough for her to hear and be startled and have to have him come rushing out to reassure her everything was ok and the voice from the should-be-empty bedroom belonged to her son, who was about to miss his Friday morning thesis seminar.
She had hugged him tight and then smacked his shoulder for scaring her like that and then his dad had shouted out from his place still lying in bed, asking what was happening, and Justin had went over, plopped down next to him and cuddled up so they were lying face to face sharing the same pillow and smiling the same fond smile at each other.
All the morning distractions made them all running late, especially his dad who really didn’t want to be late to work, so Justin helped get his sister to school and his mom to work, then spent the rest of the day at home by himself, waiting for them all to come home.
His mind was surprisingly calm and at ease, heart centered and full after being in this warm and cozy house again.
Once everyone came home his mom got started on dinner and Justin sat at the breakfast bar trading sarcastic comments with his sister and discussing world news with his parents. They talked about the weather, the upcoming election, the stock exchange, and Dami’s calculus homework.
And then, just as the oven beeped to let everyone know the chicken was done, Justin said “so I’ve decided I’m not going to medical school”, and the entire house fell so silent even the oven stopped beeping.
Justin let the silence sit, not really knowing what else there was for him to say.
Eventually, his sister said she had a question on one of her problems, and he leaned over to help her as his mom went to get the food out of the oven. They ate dinner with almost nothing being said until finally his father set his fork down on his plate, steepled his fingers over it, looked at Justin and asked him to explain.
So he did.
Justin explained that he wasn’t sure what direction he wanted his life to take at this point. That some days the idea of one more day, one more class, one more test, was too much to handle so he didn’t. He’d spent at least two days of every week for the last five months ditching class and staying home to sleep.
His mind was exhausted, and while he knew that he’s capable of maintaining a high grade point average, even with missing so much class, he also knew that trying to do so was slowly eating away at his motivation and making him less happy to be there, and more resentful of it for the amount of mental energy it takes.
He wanted to give himself a chance to breathe. To re-adjust, re-evaluate, and re-focus.
He wanted to consider other options, because, in all honesty and all fairness and with all respect, he didn’t think he’d ever been given the room to consider other options.
“You want to be a doctor,” his dad said, voice watery. “You told us that.”
“Yeah, Pop, I know I did. And back then… maybe I did. I don’t know. But right now, I - I don’t know if that’s what I want, or if that’s what I thought you wanted me to want.”
“So, you are not happy?” he asked.
Justin bit his lip, looking over at his mom who was was sitting up straight in her seat and bringing her hand to her face in a way she probably thought was subtle, but which Justin could tell was just an excuse to wipe at her watery eyes. His heart was racing because he could see the heartbreak she was experiencing plain on her face.
He shook his head. “No. I’m not happy.”
His mom reached out and pulled him into a hug, saying “We love you, Justin, and we want you to be happy, and to do well. We support you, no matter what, and if this will make you happy, it will make us happy.”
Dinner was cold and forgotten by the time she let him go, and she told him to wash up and get some sleep; he’d have a long drive the next day.
As he stood, he placed a hand on Dami’s shoulder and she reached up and patted the back of his hand, smiling up at him.
His father came over then, and hugged him tight, rubbing across his back. He pressed a kiss to his cheek and Justin pressed one of his own into his dad’s beard, and then they pulled apart and he headed to bed.
The next morning when he woke, his dad was outside washing the Jeep.
Justin took his time getting dressed, kissed his mother good morning as she stood over the stove cooking breakfast. She told him he should go speak with his father, told him he should go hear him out.
Justin grew concerned as he went out front and the closer he came to his father, the man who built their family into a home with his own two hands and every gene in his body, he could feel the air become thick with tension.
“Ma says you have something to say to me,” Justin said, speaking up to be heard over the spray from the hose.
His dad kept rinsing the Jeep, his face unreadable.
“The car should be clean when you return it,” he said.
Justin shook his head. “I don’t think that’s what you wanna say to me.”
“I don’t think this is what you really want to do,” his dad snapped back.
Justin tried to stay calm, but he could feel all the guilt and dread and shame rolling in the pit of his stomach all the sudden, and he didn’t know how he was going to contain it.
“Dad, please-”
“How am I supposed to support this decision when I don’t even know what the alternative is?” His dad asked, dropping the hose and moving to pick up the soapy car sponge from the small bucket at his feet. “What is it you plan to do instead?”
“I’m gonna go into consulting. At least, at first.” Justin watched as his father scrubbed at a particularly nasty spot on the hood of the car with as much passive aggression as any one person could manage. “I’ve already done several interviews, and I have some offers. I’m gonna stay in Boston, get an apartment, and in a year, if I decide I wanna go back to school, I’ll still have all my options open.”
His dad finished scrubbing and picked up the hose again, and as the breeze blew by Justin was hit with some of the backspray. He stepped out of the way and closer toward his dad.
“I want you to be happy, Justin, you know that. I just don’t understand how you don’t see how happy this could make you.”
“Dad,” Justin sighed, trailing off and glancing toward the ground.
The hose dropped down by his feet and his father leaned over and turned off the spout.
“Grab a towel,” his dad said, and together they both moved to begin drying the car on opposite sides.
They worked in silence until they met up at the back, and Justin gently reached out and took the wet towel from his dad’s hands.
“Doctors take an oath, right? To do no harm?” Justin asked. His dad was watching him intensely, eyes searching Justin’s face for some sort of answer. “When does that begin, do you think, dad? With the first patient? With the first cadaver on the first day of med school? Or does it begin with the doctor, themself? I just - shouldn’t I make sure that I’m not doing any harm to myself first, dad?”
“Are-” his dad tried to speak but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, reaching out and setting a hand on Justin’s. “Are you harming yourself?”
Justin’s eyes welled with tears and his face started to break and all he could do was nod.
Before he could have a moment more to think, his dad was holding him in his arms and they were crying together, voices wet as they apologized to each other over and over.
“I’m sorry, dad, I’m so sorry.”
“Shh, my boy, shh.” His dad rocked them back and forth, the movement soothing. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t see it before. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell us what you've been going through. I don't ever want to miss something like this again.
“You, your sisters, and your mom are my world, and I don’t want to ever cause any of you pain by wishing something for you that is only hurting you.”
“I should have said something sooner.”
“You should have. But that’s past now, and you’ve told us now, so it’s going to be ok. Everything is going to be ok now.”
And as Justin stood there in the driveway, soaking wet from the mist in the air and rivers on his face, wrapped in his father’s arms, he could see how that could be true, how everything, from here on out, would be ok.
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Day 6: vires acquirit eundo - “it gains strength as it goes”
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Ransom Week Day 2 - atychiphobia - “fear of failure”
Justin was in the middle of packing some boxes when his phone rang with the call he’d been expecting all morning. His older sister, Ife’s face lit up the screen, and he dropped the books in his hand into the box before answering.
“Yo,” he said, stepping gingerly among the boxes stacked around the attic.
“Ok, one second,” Ife said. “I’m patching Dami in.”
Holster was sitting across the room, shoving a bunch of clothes into a box, so Justin waved at him and inclined his head toward the door, signaling he was walking out. At Holster’s nod Justin exited the room, went down the stairs and headed toward the reading room.
“K, we’re back,” Ife said.
“Morning,” his little sister, Dami, said, sounding like she’d just been woken up.
Justin laughed as he climbed out the window on the second floor of the Haus, and then made himself comfortable on the roof. The day was warm, the sun was bright, and there was a light breeze rustling through the big tree in front so it cooled Justin’s face when it blew idly by.
“So how’d it go last night?” Justin asked.
“How I imagine every prom in the history of the western world has gone. People danced, people got drunk, someone knocked the chocolate fountain over and spilt chocolate all over the dance floor...”
“A natural progression of events,” Ife said, laughing.
“At my prom, someone tried to flush a condom down the toilet in one of the bathrooms,” Justin said. “It fucked up the plumbing in all the stalls and we were left with three functioning stalls for all 500 people present.”
His sisters both laughed.
“Any funny stories from your prom, Ife?” Dami asked.
“I was the funny story from my prom,” she said.
Justin shook his head and Dami burst out laughing - her laugh was full of static and thousands of miles away, but it still warmed Justin’s heart.
“Anyway,” Ife said, trying to return to the subject at hand. “You and Jazz both looked amazing in your dresses.”
“Thaaaanks,” Dami said, sounding shy and shuffling around on her end. “Jazz, especially, looked beautiful. I was awestruck.”
“You two took pictures, right?” Justin asked. “Professional ones at prom?”
“Yeah,” Dami said. “The guy tried to have us pose like bff’s or something and I was like nah, please let me kiss her in this picture.” Justin smiled to himself and Ife laughed. “He let us do two poses, since I paid for one and Jazz paid for the other. So one was us kissing and the other was where i stood in front of her, with her hand on my hip. They looked good at the place - I took a picture of the shot, I’ll send it to you both later.”
“Cool, cool,” Justin said, nodding to himself, looking off down the street as a car drove slowly up it. He found the sound of the tires rolling on the pavement almost soothing and rhythmic in the quiet air of the street this morning.
“So... not to ruin this lovely conversation about my prom, but… I kinda have something to say,” Dami said, seeming unsure of herself.
“What’s going on, babe?” Ife asked - Justin marvelled, sometimes, over how much she sounded like their mom.
“Well, I just…” Dami sighed deeply. “I guess I just wanted to say thank you to Jay.”
Justin paused, racking his brain for something he’d done for Dami lately, but coming up blank.
“For what?”
“For marching into this house and saying that you’re not going to Med School.”
Justin’s stomach dropped, twisted, and rolled. For the life of him he couldn’t fathom why she might be thanking him for that, for admitting to his own failure, his own shortcomings, his own ineptitude. Why would Dami - smart, driven, capable Dami - be thankful to him for that, of all things.
“Uhhh….” He really had no clue what to say.
“You’re so articulate, little bro,” Ife said, the eye-roll audible in her voice.
Dami snickered, then, after clearing her throat, she said “I guess you don’t understand why I’m saying that, so let me explain.”
“Please,” he said, exhaling for the first time in almost 25 seconds.
“It’s just that Mom and dad have always made us believe we could be anything we wanted, to have the biggest dreams and that we could make them come true. Which has always been really inspiring. But it’s also always been a lot of pressure.”
Justin swallowed around the lump of emotion rising in his throat, guilt and shame tightening like a fist. He was grateful for the light breeze which blew in that moment and caressed his face, easing the effect the bright sun - and his baby sister's admission - was having on him.
“What has added to that pressure, for me,” Dami continues. “Is that both of you have always had big dreams and you’ve always been on the right road to making them come true. You’re both really smart and accomplished people, and I got it in my head at some point that if I didn’t measure up to the standards mom and dad have come to expect of their children the way you both did, that I’d be a failure and a disappointment.”
“Dami…” Ife trailed off, sounding sad and hurt.
“I’m sorry, Dami,” Justin said, a sharp ache shooting through his chest at the pain of his sisters. “I never meant to make you feel like you had to compete with me or Ife.”
“You didn’t make me feel that way,” she replied. “It’s all in my own head, it’s not really even mom or pop’s fault. It’s just my own issues I gotta sort out. But the point is: when you said that the one big amazing dream you’ve always had and always been working toward wasn’t turning out the way you thought it would, that you were realizing that maybe it’s not what you want anymore, or maybe you can’t really do it…
“Jay, I don’t mean to suggest you can’t do it,” Dami continued. “Because I believe in you and I know how capable you are, how talented and skilled and just - I swear Jay, you could do anything. But you know your own limitations more than anyone else. And what this all shows me? Is that you’re willing to take care of yourself in a way that I wouldn’t have thought even mattered, if it was at the expense of a dream.
“It shows me that if I’m not able to achieve something I’m working toward, that it’s ok to take a step back and try to figure out another way to do it, or another path to take, in general. It shows me that it’s ok to take a breath and figure everything out before just consigning myself to something that I don’t feel is working out anymore.”
“It’s ok to fail,” Justin said, so low he wasn’t even sure they could hear him.
But they did hear him, judging by the sharp intake of breath from Ife, and the deep sigh from Dami. He wet his lips, glancing down at the palm of his hand where he’d been clenching it into a fist while Dami was speaking.
“I guess I haven’t actually failed yet, but I also don’t know if I’m gonna try again. And you’re right - I don’t think I even realized it ‘til just now - but you’re right, it’s ok to take a step back and take a breath and figure your shit out and it’s good to stop yourself before making some horrible mistake. But I think even if I didn’t stop right now, or if I decide later to go ahead and go, and then I end up failing? I think… I think that’ll be ok too.”
He was smiling, tears running down his face, and when he sniffled he could hear more sniffles on the other ends of the line.
“Thank you, Dami, for showing me that,” he said.
“Oh my god, y’all are making my mascara run over here,” Ife said, causing them all to laugh through their tears. “Who knew my kid siblings were so smart? Hm?”
“Uh, only everyone,” Dami said, and everyone laughed again.
“Guess you’re right,” Ife said, and Justin could picture the smile on her face, dopey and fond.
“Anyway!” Justin said, rubbing at his eyes. “I got so much packing to do it ain’t funny.”
“Yeah,” Dami said. “I got a date with Jasmine later, I should get ready for.”
“What, two days in a row?” Justin teased. “You just went to prom last night!”
“I plan to see her every single day until the last day of summer comes, and we end up split apart by 500 miles, because of college.”
“That’s a good plan,” Ife said. “But alright, babes, I’ll let you both go to your plans that are more important than talking to little ol’ me.”
“Ha, alright Ife,” Justin said. “Say hey to Todd for me.”
“Oh my god!” Ife yelled, and Dami snickered on the other end. “His name is Thomas, you brute!”
“Tomothy, Troyvis, Theodork,” Justin said, waving his hand in the air. “Whatevs.”
“All whites are the same,” Dami said, causing another round of uproarious laughter.
After Ife finished groaning about how they needed to respect her and her white boyfriend, and they went through another two minutes of questioning whether she was valid for dating a white guy, they said their goodbyes and ended the call.
Before going inside, Justin took a moment to breathe in the warm outside air, hugging his knees to his chest and feeling - not for the first time, today - at ease.
Day 1 - 3/28 - primum non nocere - “first, to do no harm”
Day 2 - 3/29- atychiphobia - fear of failure
Day 3 - 3/30 - crisis - a time of intense difficulty, trouble, or danger
Day 4 - 3/31 - cacoethes - an irresistible urge to do something inadvisable
Day 5 - 4/1 - amicus fidelis protectio fortis - “a faithful friend is a strong defense”
Day 6 - 4/2 - vires acquirit eundo - “it gains strength as it goes”
Day 7 - 4/3 - grit - courage and resolve; strength of character
Day 8 - 4/4 - novis initiis - “new beginnings”
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