Alexandre Vidal Porto - Sergio Y.

Perhaps I am refusing to take any credit for Sandra’s success for fear I would then also be responsible if her happiness had not been so great after all, in which case she would have died senselessly with her face pressed to the cold stone, merely because I was unable to diagnose her condition.

People’s defense mechanisms are very complex. Those of psychiatrists are even more so. I feel like I am doing the same thing I did when I deceived Dr. Coutts with regards to my knowledge of Sergio Y.’s transsexuality. I should have learned my lesson in humility. I need to understand that accepting limitations does not make me more vulnerable. I need to seek out the truth, even if cautiously.

As far as Dr. Coutts was concerned, my role in Sandra’s clinical stabilization was “fundamental.” Tereza herself in the supermarket told me unequivocally of all the good I had done for her son. She even thanked me. She said: “Thank you very much for everything you did for my son.” She seemed happy. And, if she gave that impression, it was because her son was doing well. There is no such thing as a happy mother with an unhappy son.

Sergio Y. had his sex change operation in a foreign country, but he did not suffer for it. If his search was the same as Angelus’s, his goal had been accomplished. But did Sandra Yacoubian really find happiness?

I arrived too late to get my answer in person. Cecilia Coutts, however, confirmed that Sandra had been happy. What did the parents who gave her life think? What did Laurie Clay, who wiped her life out, think?

I would have gone to the restaurant in a pair of nice trousers, a dress shirt, a blazer and no tie. I would have gone alone, on one of those nights when Mariana had plans with her friends from college.

Sandra would have come out dressed in a chef’s uniform, with a chef’s coat and a net for her long hair. Atop the net she would wear a white chef’s hat, the kind we see on television.

After saying hello, I would ask: “Where is Sergio? Do you know what happened to Sergio?”

Sandra would smile and say:

“Sergio and I traded places, Dr. Armando. I used to be your patient too. You just never saw me. I spoke through Sergio. That deep voice was mine. Now, it’s me, Sandra, who is visible. I’ve been given a reprieve from my life sentence. Sergio still exists, but he is inside me now, hidden in the past.

“It made me happy when mother told me she’d run into you at the supermarket. I always wanted to see you again. I always wanted to tell you my secret.

“I never told you I was trans because, to tell you the truth, I never had the opportunity. There were so many other things to talk about…

“At first, I hoped you’d confront me about it. But since you never did, and since I still enjoyed our sessions and learned from them, I continued my treatment with you. I had nothing to lose. Not everything in life is sexual identity. Right?

“I think I was getting ready to approach the subject with you when I went to New York on vacation. When the Bosnian taxi driver who drove me to Battery Park to catch the ferry explained to me why he’d come to America, I was reminded of my great-grandfather, Areg. Do you remember that I told you about him?

“I would have died if I had stayed there. I would have died if I had not moved, as I did.’

“That was the explanation the Bosnian taxi driver gave for fleeing his homeland. That was part of my epiphany. And on the island, in the museum bookstore, of all those stories, of all those people, it was Angelus’s life I pulled off the shelf. I think God spoke to me at that moment. Angelus’s life inspired me. He showed me what I should do with mine. After reading his story, I thought: ‘All right: that’s what I need to do,’ and then everything changed.

“Thank you for being my first guide. You might say that you taught me to read. Without ever directly addressing my transsexuality, you led me to the solution. Silently — without embarrassment, without tears.

“By the time I came to Dr. Coutts, I knew exactly what I had to do with my life. None of this would ever have been possible without you. You spared me from the suffering and the pain.

“It’s a pleasure to welcome you to my restaurant tonight. I knew you’d come, so I prepared a four-course menu, especially for you. Each dish will be a tribute to one of your qualities. Never will these recipes be used again. They will last only as long as this tasting and the memories it leaves behind. It is a small gesture of thanks.

“The first course is a mushroom tartar, seasoned with lemon and fleur de sel . I’ve used several types of mushrooms, chopped finely and combined into a homogeneous mixture. The sauce is seasoned with only lemon and salt. This dish uses few ingredients and pays homage to your integrity.

“The second course is a mascarpone cheese and corn ravioli dish with Parmesan foam. I cut the dough myself and stuffed it by hand. The mascarpone envelops the corn, and the dough envelops the filling. The foam makes everything more comfortable. This dish celebrates the affection you show your patients.

“The main course is eggplant, on a bed of herbs, stuffed with chestnuts, cinnamon and curry. This dish seems simple but is complicated to make. The base of the seasoning blend is made up of seventeen types of herbs, that must be cooked at different temperatures. It pays homage to your interest in medicine and healing.

“The last course is the dessert. It is a blackberry pavlova made with blackberry mousse, shredded meringue, macerated raspberries and lemon thyme sorbet. It gives off intense yet light and balanced flavors. This plate celebrates your intelligence.

“I chose the following wines to go with each dish: Bourgogne Aligoté 2009 for the mushrooms, Riesling ‘Nonnenberg’ 2007 for the ravioli, Arbois Les Bruyères 2008 for the eggplant and a Champagne Brut Nature 2003 for dessert.

“Please note that there is not a single fiber of meat in this meal I’ve prepared for you. I wanted to keep death at bay. No heart had to stop beating so you could eat in my restaurant. There’s not a drop of blood on the food I prepared for you.

“I wish you bon appétit.

“My parents have tried everything on the menu. Ask them if I was happy. If you have any more questions, ask Laurie, she knows.”

I woke up startled. But I decided to accept the suggestion made by Sandra in the dream.

Dear Salomão,

My name is Armando and I was your son Sergio’s therapist during his last year in São Paulo, before he moved to New York. I am doing research related to Sergio’s case and I would be very grateful if you would consent to a brief talk. I will make myself available on the date and time that is most convenient for you. My email address is armandoa@xls.org and my telephone number, 999-9734.

Cordially,

Armando

When you asked to talk to me, I found it strange. It’s been almost a year since Sergio’s death. I thought: ‘What could he want with me?’ I was intrigued. Then, you asked me if Sergio was happy. Just like that. Even now I don’t really know how to answer you. There are so many types of happiness, aren’t there?

“I generated two monstrosities: one anencephalic baby and one transexual.

“When the doctor told us our other son was anencephalic, I didn’t know what to do. I ran to the dictionary. ‘Monstrosity’: that was the generic definition the dictionary gave.

“But Roberto died soon after he was born. We still had Sergio. With him I thought we’d got it right. I always thought he was a normal boy. He didn’t have a lot of friends. He was the silent type, but he was a good student, and his teachers liked him. At home, he was also well-behaved. He was a good boy.