The Quest for the Inner Human: A Novel About Psychology

PART ONE

SCHOOL DAYS

(The 1970s)

Chapter 1

THE FREUD CLUB

(January 1970)

THE TEACHER SAID TO THE four high school seniors, Look, you kids don’t really need me to hang around here during your meeting, do you? The four students—three male, and one female—were sitting in four desks in an otherwise empty classroom, during the noon lunch hour.

George (one of the students) shook his head, and replied, No, thanks, Mr. Ronstein; we’re just going to talk.

The teacher (who was in his late thirties) said nervously, Well, if Principal Keynan comes by to check, can you tell him that I just went to use the faculty restroom, and I’ll be right back? He added sheepishly, As your club’s faculty advisor, I’m really supposed to stay here in the classroom with you during your meeting; but I also need a cigarette or two, before 5th period starts.

That’s fine, Mr. Ronstein, George said, nodding his head reassuringly.

We’ll cover for you, Randy (another one of the students) said, grinning.

I hope so, the teacher said nervously, adding in a sterner tone, "Just remember: Principal Kenyan wasn’t too crazy about the idea of this club, anyway; and if he cancels it, you won’t be able to meet in anyone’s classroom during lunchtime—you’ll have to sit out in the Quad, or go to the Cafeteria, to…"

We don’t want that, said the lone female student (whose name was Mirabelle). She added with a slight smile, Other kids already think that we’re weird, just for having a club like this.

Plus, we couldn’t really talk about serious topics openly in the Cafeteria, or in the Quad, George added.

The third male student (who was nicknamed Doc) shook his head, and added, The other kids at this school aren’t like us; they don’t care anything about serious stuff. They’re just into sports, and pep rallies, and rock music—plus drinking, or getting loaded, nearly every weekend.

And making out in the hallways, Randy said, with a sly smile (that was more like a leer).

Well, I actually support what you kids are trying to do, the teacher admitted, adding reflectively, I used to be pretty interested in Psychology back in college; but I ultimately decided to just major in General Science and get my teaching credential, and so here I am. But I remember being really interested in Pavlov, Watson, Thorndike, Skinner—all those guys. He unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk, and took out his sack lunch, and a pack of cigarettes. Heading to the door, he said, I’ll be back at 12:50.

Okay, George replied. Thanks again, Mr. Ronstein.

See you then, Mirabelle called out, as the teacher left the room.

Finally! George said, with obvious relief. He and the other students immediately rearranged the desks, so that they were all sitting in a circle, and facing each other.

With unfeigned seriousness, George said, "I hereby declare the first meeting of the Stentoria High School Freud Club to be called to order."

Randy said in a teasing voice, Aren’t you supposed to pound a gavel, or something like that?

George ignored him, and said, Now, someone needs to take notes of the meeting. He turned to the female student, and said, Mirabelle, why don’t you take notes for us? You can be our secretary…

Why should I be the secretary? she shot back immediately. Just because I’m the only female in the club?

George was taken aback, and said apologetically, No, that’s not the reason; it’s because… uhh, because you, uhh… but he couldn’t think of an adequate answer, and fell silent.

Because I’m the only female in the club, she repeated. "And that’s a sexist thing to say; why don’t you take the notes?"

Because I’m the club’s President, George said, growing exasperated. That’s what the charter for our club that was approved by the Student Council said. So I’m supposed to run the meeting; which means that I won’t have time to take notes.

Then let Randy do it; or Doc, Mirabelle said stubbornly, crossing her arms.

Doc said with a smile, I can tell that you’ve made up your mind. Taking out a pencil and paper, he said resignedly, Look, I’ll take notes. Just don’t call me ‘secretary,’ okay?

What’s wrong with the title ‘secretary’? Mirabelle asked, her arms still crossed.

Doc replied immediately, "Nothing… if you’re a girl!" and the three young men laughed.

So our Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird is a girl? she said indignantly. And the Secretary of the Interior, Walter Hickel?

Quietly, Doc replied, Okay, okay; I get your point, Mirabelle. It’s just that I don’t want to see our club picture in the Yearbook this June, with ‘Secretary’ by my name; the other guys would never let me hear the end of it.

We can call you our ‘Recorder,’ or something like that, George suggested; Doc nodded his agreement, and began dutifully taking notes. George smiled at the others, and said with enthusiasm, I think it’s pretty interesting, though, that even though our club has only been in existence for a few minutes, we’re already seeing some interesting things in our psychological interactions.

"Like Mirabelle’s body language, ever since she said she didn’t want to take notes, Randy suggested, pointing at her. Did you notice how she crossed her arms, like she was trying to shut us out? The others in the group began looking at Mirabelle closely, and she suddenly felt very self-conscious. Randy added confidently, That book Body Language, by Julius Fast, says that crossing your arms indicates tightness and withdrawal, and shows her resistance to what we’re saying."

I just crossed my arms because I didn’t want my hands to be free to take notes, she explained, defensively. Don’t try to make a big thing about it, Randy.

"In fact, body language is actually a science, called ‘kinesics,’ George pointed out. I read an article in the newspaper that said that only 7% of human communication is done through our words—the rest is communicated by our tone of voice, and body language; in fact, our body language and tone of voice often contradicts our actual words! The other three nodded their agreement. He added, The newspaper article was based on the work of a psychologist named Albert Mehrabian, who said that our words account for 7% of what we communicate, our tone of voice accounts for 38%, and our body language for 55%."

Mirabelle said, "My mother is like that all the time: after I’ve done something she doesn’t agree with, she’ll say something that sounds very sympathetic and open-minded, like, ‘I know just how you feel’—but in her eyes, she’s looking at me like I’m some kind of raving lunatic, who should be locked up!" and the others murmured empathy.

"And all of us want to be able to understand people like that, George said, with a confident smile. That’s why we’re all here, right? Because we’re interested in learning more about psychology—and in particular, learning about the ideas of the greatest psychologist of all time, Sigmund Freud!"

"We want to learn why we do all the stuff that we do," Randy suggested.

Doc added, "But we’re also all opposed to the use of drugs—like LSD and marijuana—as a way of ‘learning’ anything about ourselves. The others nodded vigorously, to indicate their strong agreement. With a sly smile, Doc added, And if any of us wants to ‘change our consciousness,’ we’ll do it the good old-fashioned way—with booze!" and the others laughed.

With a serious expression on his face, George said, Fortunately, those phony ‘psychologists’ like Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert—who gave psychology such a bad name, when they were teaching at Harvard—are finally out of the limelight, now; Alpert ran off to India for a while, but now he’s back, and pretending to be some kind of ‘guru’; he even changed his name! And Leary was thankfully just sentenced to prison—so I hope that we’ve finally heard the last of him, and his whole ‘Tune In, Turn On, Drop Out’ philosophy! They all nodded their agreement again, and he added, "When we want to learn things, we’ll also do it the good old-fashioned way: by reading books!" They all voiced their enthusiastic approval of this statement.

With excitement in his voice, he added, "When I read that book by Freud, Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis, it had an amazing effect on me. So I read some more of his books. A thoughtful look came over his face, and he added, Except for school textbooks, I’d hardly ever read a book that wasn’t a novel before; but there were so many things Freud said that just made perfect sense to me, like his comparison of the unconscious mind to an iceberg—where 90% of the iceberg is under water."

Mirabelle nodded, and said, Once you learn about psychology, and realize that people have unconscious motives behind most of the things that they do, you can’t help looking at everyone differently; you find yourself studying them, and trying to analyze why they do the things they do.

Doc nodded, and said, "Now, whenever I see all the really brainy, but shy kids—the ones that are completely into Calculus, Physics, Chemistry, and stuff like that—I can say to myself, ‘Hey: what they’re doing is just sublimation: shifting their basic instinctual drives like sex into something more socially acceptable.’"

Randy nodded, and said, "Nerdy kids like that can’t even get a date with anybody; so they channel all of their frustrated energies into cracking the books day and night. That’s exactly what Freud said in his book, Three Contributions to the Theory of Sex."

George said, That’s the first thing that really shook me, when I read Freud’s lectures: how he said straight out in the first lecture that our sexual impulses play an ‘extremely large and never hitherto appreciated part’ in causing nervous and mental diseases.

Doc nodded soberly, and said, "Sex—the libido—is the most important thing, for sure; everything else depends on it. He added eagerly, I also read that Freud’s mentor, Josef Breuer, once told Freud that the great majority of severe neuroses ‘have their origin in the marriage bed’!"

"I also read in the newspaper that the average person thinks about sex every seven seconds!" Randy said, with excitement in his voice.

That’s ridiculous, Mirabelle said scornfully. "We’ve been in this classroom for fifteen minutes; so you’re telling us that you’ve already thought about sex more than one hundred times since we’ve been in here? Or that you think about sex about… oh, about eight thousand times a day?"

Randy grinned mockingly, and replied, Maybe; do you really want to know? Mirabelle made a face, but didn’t say anything more.

George said, Actually, I read in the paper that, according to the first Kinsey Report, more than half of all men think about sex just a few times a day; and most of the rest, think about it only a few times a week, or only a few times a month. So that means that about half of all men think about sex less than once a day.

Randy observed, "Well, judging by how often guys get boners in the showers in gym class—even though they’re not queers—I think that figure is way too low."

Doc suggested, The figure would probably be a lot higher for people our age, than for people in, say, their forties or fifties.

Mirabelle interrupted crossly, Can we please change the subject? With a look of disgust on her face, she added, Otherwise, I’ll find some other club to join, during lunch hour.

Sorry, George said, embarrassed.

"Sounds to me like you’re just in denial about our most basic impulse," Randy said to her, cockily.

"Well, it sounds to me like you’re just rationalizing your own weird impulses… because you’re not mature enough to control them yet!" she shot back, causing George and Doc to laugh, as Randy blushed.

George said to Randy in a teasing voice, "Mirabelle has a point; now, we all know that you’re not supposed to repress your basic impulses—because such repression can lead to mental illness—but Randy, unless you can find yourself a girlfriend, you probably need to turn ‘nerd,’ so that you’ll have a constructive outlet for your own reproductive energies, so that…"

I’ve got lots of girlfriends, Randy interrupted.

Then how come we’ve never seen any of them? Doc teased. Randy remained silent.

"I thought this club was supposed to discuss serious stuff, Mirabelle complained. So far, this has been just like a typical juvenile male bull session!"

Mirabelle is right; let’s get on with the serious topics, George agreed. In a businesslike tone, he said, "Now, we’ve all read Freud’s Introductory Lectures, right? The others in the group nodded their heads. George continued, That would probably be a good book for us to start discussing as a group; it probably has the best ‘overview’ of Freud’s ideas of any of his books. I mean, it’s all there: The Ego, the Id, and the Superego, which are the rational dimension of our psyche, our primitive urges and instincts, and the conscience that we mostly get from our parents; the pleasure principle, by which we primarily seek pleasure, and avoid pain—although it’s kept somewhat in line by the reality principle, by which the Ego tries to postpone immediate pleasures; the developmental stages children go through, such as the oral stage, the anal stage, and so on; regression, or going back to an earlier stage in our development; transference, which is when the patient projects onto the therapist feelings and reactions from his or her own childhood, or later life; and of course, the Oedipus Complex . . ."

Doc interrupted, But since we’ve all read that book, maybe we should pick out a different book of Freud’s, that we haven’t all read yet.

Randy nodded his agreement, and said, "How about a shorter one, like maybe The Ego and the Id? That one’s only about sixty pages."

George nodded, and said, I’ve read it; and that’s definitely a good book—Freud summarizes by saying that ‘Psychoanalysis is an instrument to enable the Ego to achieve a progressive conquest of the Id.’ He hesitated, and then added, The only thing is, that was one of his later books; maybe we should read his books more in chronological order, so we can see how Freud’s ideas developed over time. He shrugged, and then added, "Personally, I think his second book, The Interpretation of Dreams, would be a great book to discuss. I just finished reading it, and it really made me think about a lot of things that I’d never realized, like how he said that our dreams are all wish-fulfillments—that is, ways of achieving our unconscious desires. And all the things he said about the symbolism in our dreams, and how a lot of things that we consciously repress during the day then come out in our dreams; in fact, because of something Freud called displacement, our strongest and most urgent wishes often take a kind of ‘back seat’ in our dreams. He shook his head, and admitted, Dream interpretation can get really complicated, with all the hidden symbols, and all; but Freud said in that book that dreams were the ‘royal road to the knowledge of the unconscious in mental life,’ so I think they’re an important thing to study."

Mirabelle said excitedly, "I read Freud’s book on dreams, but I also read a book that collected all of Jung’s writings on dreams, and it was really interesting. Jung said that he analyzed about 2,000 of his own dreams each year! So now I’ve started keeping my own ‘Dream Journal,’ and…"

George interrupted, saying with exasperation, "Mirabelle, why in the world would you read Jung? This is supposed to be the Freud Club, not the Jung Club! You know that Jung broke off with Freud because Jung—even though Freud had called him his ‘son and heir,’ and had been grooming Jung to become his successor as the head of the psychoanalytic movement—ultimately left the movement and rejected Freud’s theory about sexuality, and…"

"Jung just didn’t think that sex was as all-important as Freud insisted it was, she retorted. And I agree with Jung about that. Sure, it’s a very important instinctual drive; but Jung points out that there are a lot of other drives that are important, as well; he interpreted the libido as a general mental or psychic energy, for example, and not just as sexual energy. Those differences are why Jung called his own form of psychotherapy ‘analytical psychology,’ to distinguish it from Freud’s psychoanalysis, and…"

George shook his head, and said dismissively, "Mirabelle, some of the things that Jung thought were ‘important’ were really pretty wacky, such as pseudo-sciences like Astrology and Alchemy. Jung also believed in God, and…"

So what? Mirabelle replied, in a feisty tone. So do I.

"You believe in God? George said, sounding both disappointed and dismayed. But you told me after class last month that you thought the Bible, and churches, were nothing but a bunch of ‘superstitious nonsense,’ and…"

"I do think that; I’m definitely not a Christian, Mirabelle confirmed, adding with a resolute expression on her face, But I never said that I didn’t believe in God!" There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Doc finally said with confidence, "I agree with Freud that religious belief is a form of neurosis. Religion is nothing but a projection of man’s childish fears; because we’re afraid of the world, we invented the concept of a loving, omnipotent God, to supposedly ‘protect’ us from it. We’re afraid of death, so we invented the fantasy of eternal life, to take away our fears. But modern science has proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that we evolved by purely random processes from lifeless matter, and…"

"How can a God that we invented ‘protect’ us from anything? Mirabelle shot back. If I’m walking alone down a dark street at night in a bad neighborhood, an ‘imaginary’ police officer isn’t going to ‘protect’ me! So don’t you think that people would have realized—very soon after they ‘invented’ such an imaginary God—that he doesn’t exist, and really can’t do anything for them?"

George said in a calm, paternalistic manner, Mirabelle, the origins of religion go way, way back in history; Freud even wrote a couple of books explaining it, and…

She shook her head, and said, "If a tribe’s crops failed for the second year in a row due to lack of rain—despite their fervent prayers and rituals—or if the tribe was sold off into slavery after a rival tribe took captured them, any group that had just ‘invented’ their own God would stop believing in him, pretty darn quick! But to me, the fact that every culture in the world has some kind of religion proves that there’s something more to religion than just ‘projection’ and ‘wish fulfillment.’" She crossed her arms again, stubbornly.

Randy said in a patronizing tone, Look, Mirabelle, you can’t have it both ways: you’re either an atheist, or else you’re one of those weird Christian kids on campus: you know, the Campus Life kind? The ones who don’t have any friends other than their fellow ‘One Way’ numbskulls? He shook his head, and added, "I agree with Doc and George, Mirabelle; you can’t interpret Christians as being anything other than deluded, and…"

"They might be wrong, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re ‘deluded,’ she countered. And you don’t have to be a Christian to believe in God."

Doc laughed, and said sarcastically, Well, I guess you could shave your head and become one of those Hare Krishna idiots! Or maybe put on a white robe, and chant that TM ‘mantra’ garbage! But that’s about the only other options you’ve got, Mirabelle…

She repeated firmly, You can believe in God without being a Christian. She suddenly said crossly, "Anyway, would you all please stop calling me ‘Mirabelle’? I hate that name—all my girlfriends call me ‘Mira’!" (Which she pronounced, ‘My-ruh,’ instead of ‘Meer-uh.’)

What’s wrong with ‘Mirabelle’? George wondered, puzzled.

I hate it, she reiterated. It makes me sound like some elderly 19th century matron… or a cow!

With a laugh, Doc said, "Sure, why not? In fact, while we’re at it, we can abbreviate all of our names. Pointing to Randy, he said with pretended enthusiasm, We can call you ‘Ran’! Ignoring Randy’s scowl, he looked over at George, and said with fake deliberation, And let’s see: we can call you… ‘Geo’!"

Randy said curtly, If anyone tries to call me ‘Ran,’ I’ll kick his ass! and the others laughed. He added, Anyway, my name is already abbreviated; my given name is ‘Randolph,’ but everyone—including my parents, who gave me the stupid name in the first place—has always called me ‘Randy.’

George admitted, Actually, I don’t care for my name, either. ‘George’ was my grandfather’s name; but no one else these days has an old-fashioned name like ‘George’!

Doc grinned, and said, "So from now on, we’ll call you ‘Geo’: Gee-oh," he said, pronouncing the syllables slowly. George smiled, and nodded his agreement. Doc looked around the group, and announced, So now the four members of the Freud Club are named Mira, Geo, Randy, and Doc; everybody happy?

Mira said to Doc with a smile, "Except that if we’re changing names, you ought to change yours. Before he could say anything, she quickly added, These two guys haven’t known you since third grade like I have, so they don’t know that your name is really ‘Trent’!" and she and the other two laughed, as Doc squirmed sheepishly.

Randy asked, Then why does everybody call you ‘Doc’?

Doc sighed, and then explained, When I was in fourth grade, I had to get a pair of really thick glasses; and the first day I wore them to school, it was raining, and I was wearing a white raincoat—the other kids thought I looked like a doctor; so the nickname stuck. He shrugged, and then added, Fortunately, I can wear contact lenses, now. Looking at Mira, he said firmly, But I’m used to my nickname, now; and I’m not changing it.

Geo looked at the clock on the wall, and then asked Doc anxiously, Are you still taking notes?

Sorry, he replied, quickly taking up his pencil and paper again, and scribbling furiously.

Geo looked at the others, then admitted, I… uhh, I don’t exactly remember where we were…

Looking at his notes, Doc prompted, "We were trying to decide on a book of Freud’s to discuss. You suggested his Interpretation of Dreams, and Mirabelle—Mira, I mean—seemed to agree, which is fine with me; I’ve always wanted to know what some of my weirder dreams mean, anyway… and I really want to know about my nightmares!"

Nightmares are no different from regular dreams; they’re just dreams that frighten us, Geo said confidently. They usually just symbolize things that scare or worry us when we’re awake; and they’re most common in children, but also in people our age—they become less common as people get older.

"I think Interpretation of Dreams is a good choice for our first book to discuss, Mira said, adding enthusiastically, But all of you will need to start keeping a Dream Journal, like I do; if you don’t write down your dreams as soon as you wake up, you usually forget them—and then, you won’t have anything to ‘interpret’ later."

"I think we should all read Freud’s Future of an Illusion, where he disproves religion," Randy said, giving Mira a challenging stare.

I’m not reading that book, Mira said firmly.

"What’s the matter? Are you afraid?" Randy taunted. Afraid it might shake up your cozy little religious world?

Mira said firmly, I don’t have a ‘cozy little religious world’; I just said I believe in God, and that’s all. I don’t go to church, or anything like that.

Geo said in his most persuasive voice (obviously trying to convince Randy), "Look, three of us want Interpretation of Dreams; and I think that’s a good choice because that book outlines a lot of Freud’s most important theories, like the sexual symbolism in dreams, and the Oedipus Complex…"

I don’t like that theory of Freud’s, Mira said, with a look of extreme distaste on her face. "I also hate the supposed female version of it that Jung called the ‘Electra Complex.’ It so happens that I have never wanted to murder my mother, or marry my father; and I’m sure that most boys are the same—about not wanting to marry their mother, and to kill their father as some kind of ‘rival’ for the mother’s attention…"

Freud didn’t like Jung’s term, ‘Electra Complex,’ Geo pointed out. "But remember, these complexes don’t always show up in their most extreme forms; they represent stages in a child’s early development, where he wants the primary attention of the parent of the opposite sex, and is therefore jealous of that parent’s attention to their spouse. He shrugged, and added, For example, in my case, although I’ve always loved my mother, I’ve certainly never wanted to have sex with her!" and the others laughed heartily.

Randy said with a smirk, "Actually, I wouldn’t mind having sex with Doc’s mother—she’s hot, even though she’s probably about forty years old…"

Doc reached over and punched Randy on the shoulder—very hard.

Ow! Randy exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder. What the hell, man? There’s nothing wrong with having a sexy mother; whenever I go to that coffee shop she works at, I always hope she’s the one who waits on me, because she’s…

Shut up, man, or I’ll punch you again, Doc threatened, giving Randy a meaningful look.

Mira said with assurance, "To me, that example alone disproves Freud’s Oedipus theory; Doc doesn’t even want to think about his mother in a sexual way, and…"

Geo said with a coy smile, "Or maybe it proves Freud’s theory… and what Doc is feeling is actually jealousy, because he wants his mother all for himself, and… he quickly ducked, as Doc threw a pocket-sized paperback book at him. Grinning, he added, See what I mean?" and the others chuckled.

Looking in turn at the other three members of the group, Geo concluded, "Sorry, Randy, but you’re outvoted; Interpretation of Dreams is Freud’s next book for all of us to read, and then discuss."

Randy shrugged, and then said, "Fine; but I vote for Future of an Illusion as being the next book after that."

"Do they have copies of Interpretation of Dreams in the school library? Doc asked, with some concern in his voice. I can’t afford to go out and buy all of these books at the mall, because…"

You can get a used copy for a dollar at that bookstore on 13th and J Street, Mira suggested. That’s where I got my book on dreams by Jung; they have a whole shelf of used books on psychology. Doc nodded, and carefully wrote this address in his notes.

Geo looked at the clock again, and said, Well, I think that’s about all the time we have for today; Mr. Ronstein should have finished lunch and his second cigarette by now, and he’ll be heading back here.

Yuck; cigarettes, Mira said, making a face. "They’re so disgusting; I think that smoking is just a form of infantile regression, like a baby sucking on his mother’s breast!"

"Or maybe a cigarette, like a cigar, is really a phallic symbol; so a guy putting one of them in his mouth is a sign of his latent homosexuality, Randy suggested, half-seriously. He added, I mean, didn’t Freud say that all kinds of things could be phallic symbols, like neckties, pencils, umbrellas, spears…"

Geo interrupted, saying, But Freud also supposedly said that there are times when a man craves a cigar simply because he wants a smoke.

I don’t think Ronstein is a homo, Doc suggested. He’s got six kids, you know.

"Maybe it’s all an act, Randy suggested, raising one eyebrow. Who knows what he’s really thinking about when he has sex with his wife?"

You’re disgusting, Randy, Mira said, standing up. I’m going to my next class, now. She began gathering up her books, and stood up.

Anxiously, Geo asked, You’re coming back to our next meeting, aren’t you?

Sure, she replied. She wrinkled her nose at Randy, and then added, "If you can keep this guy from being completely gross, that is."

Randy smiled cockily, and said, I can’t help it; I’m just a product of my own primitive, instinctive urges. Winking at her, he added, But if I bug you that much, I’ll try to tone it down in our next meeting.

I’d appreciate that, she said, as the bell rang, indicating that lunch period was over.

Geo stood up and said with satisfaction, "Well, I think this was a very successful first meeting of the Freud Club! And we’ve all got our assignment for our next meeting: read, or at least start to read, Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams. Oh, and like Mirab… I mean, like Mira said, it would probably be a very good idea for all of us to start writing down our dreams."

Mira nodded, and said enthusiastically, I keep a notebook and pencil right on the table next to my bed. That way, the moment I wake up, I can immediately write the dream down.

"What if it’s a sexy dream?" Randy said with a smile, looking at Mira with one eyebrow slyly lifted.

Mira said immediately, "Then please: do us all a favor, and keep it to yourself; I don’t think any of us want to hear about the twisted sexual fantasies you probably dream about," and Geo and Doc started to laugh, but stopped suddenly as Mr. Ronstein re-entered the room, followed by several students.

Mr. Ronstein looked worried, and asked Geo quietly, Did Principal Keynan come by?

Geo shook his head, and said reassuringly, Nope; it was just us. The teacher looked relieved, then walked over to the blackboard, and began writing on it. The four friends put their desks back in order.

The four Freud Club members thanked the teacher, then left the room, and walked together down the hall (which was now crowded with students). Geo said to the group, You guys are all going to college, right? They all replied affirmatively. He asked, Have you all decided where you’re going?

Stentoria State, Mira replied immediately. I’m going to major in Psychology, and I’ve heard that they have a good Psychology department.

Geo nodded, and said, I’m also majoring in Psychology. And it’s Stentoria State for me, too.

Randy said, Well, I wanted to go to UCLA, or maybe UC Berkeley, but I wasn’t accepted by either one. So I guess I’ll have to spend a year or two taking undergrad courses at Stentoria State, until I can transfer; but I’m majoring in Psych, too.

All right! Geo said, pleased. They all looked at Doc, who seemed embarrassed by the question.

I might have to go to Stentoria River Community College for a couple of years, Doc admitted sheepishly. I don’t know that my folks can afford to send me to a state college for four years, with the costs of tuition and books rising, like they are.

Are you going to major in Psychology, like we are? Mira asked him.

Probably, he replied, and then added, "But I’m not declaring my major, yet. I need to major in something that I can get a job in, right after I graduate!"

Well, Psychology is definitely that kind of a field, Geo said, encouragingly. I think that every single wife and mother in my neighborhood goes to her therapist weekly, or even more than weekly; and so do a lot of their husbands, and even some of their kids!

Same in my neighborhood, Mira agreed. "So there’s a huge market out there, for therapists."

Doc wondered, Yeah, but don’t you need to have, like, a whole lot of school, in order to be a therapist? The other three looked at each other with uncertainty, but remained silent, and he added, I don’t think my folks can afford to send me to school that long.

Maybe you can get a scholarship, or something, Geo suggested, hopefully.

Or some financial aid, Mira added.

Maybe, Doc said, as he stopped walking, and pointed down the hallway to the left, and said, Well, my next class is over this way.

Geo held out his hand to shake, and said to Doc, "Hey, man: thanks for coming to our first meeting! The Freud Club is off to a great start, I think."

Yeah; it was pretty cool, he said, as they shook hands. It’s a lot more interesting than just talking about football or basketball or girls with the other guys, every lunch period, he replied, and then headed off in the opposite direction, as the other three continued walking down the hall.

So what do you junior-league psychologists think of our Civics teacher, Miss Guinnici? Randy asked. "She strikes me as an excellent subject for psychological analysis: She’s at least sixty years old, never married, and apparently has no kids—and she’s teaching Civics, of all things!"

Geo said with cocky confidence, "I think she’s a clear case of sublimation; she’s channeling her frustrated energies from not being married or having children into her teaching career, and…"

Mira interrupted, George Halifax, I can’t believe you’d say something that sexist again! So what if she’s not married and doesn’t have any kids? Neither does the football coach! She shook her head and added, "Women these days don’t need to get married, and have kids; we can have careers of our own!"

Randy groaned and said, "Not that Women’s Lib stuff, again…"

Mira ignored him, and went on, But it just so happens that teaching is Miss Guinnici’s second career! Before she got her teaching credential, she was elected to, and served on, several school boards and then a City Council for five terms back in Ohio, where she’s originally from.

Really? Geo said, genuinely surprised. How do you know that?

"Because I’ve talked with her, dummy, she chided him. With an air of superiority, she added, So unlike all the males who teach at our school—who only know about their subjects from what they’ve read in textbooks—Miss Guinnici has actually been involved in Civics, and she knows a lot about it from her own experience!"

I didn’t know that, Geo admitted.

Mira slapped his shoulder playfully, and said, "So next time, you need to hold off on your ‘analysis’ until you first get your facts straight, Mister Junior Freud!"

Point taken, he conceded, and they entered the classroom for their Civics class.