The Drunk Logs (15 page)

“Stress and worry affects all living beings on the planet. But how we manage to take that negative energy and change it to a positive will help each one of you grow to a place of fulfillment. I would like you to join me in a place where you will learn to break those boundaries and become one with the world around you.”

Sam and I looked at each other, skeptical, while I wondered what was going to happen next.

Soft music began to play as the soothing voice continued. “Now to proceed in your journey you must lie on a flat surface, or if one is not available, a chair will suffice. Our main goal is to situate our bodies so that we are in a fixed position and try to relax.”

The shuffling and laughter began to subside.

“I want you to close your eyes and take long, deep breaths. In…out. Can you feel the negative emotions leaving your body? Keep breathing; while we start at your feet, make them tense and release. Keep doing this as you work your muscles all the way up to your thighs; make them tense and release.”

Being skeptical at first, I began to feel relaxed as I tensed and released my muscles.

“Still breathing, tense your buttocks and release, tense and release.”

Surprised, Sam and I opened our eyes and looked at each other.

“Shut up, this is serious,” a voice exclaimed in the distance, to the giggles of other patients.

I continued to listen, with apprehension, to the speaker’s voice and relaxed the rest of my body.

The lights grew bright as the refreshed bodies awoke.

“So, did everyone enjoy the lesson?” Robert said from the podium.

An incoherent mumble echoed from the patients.

“Well, I hope some of you gained some insight to the lesson; and if there is anyone who wants further information, there are some pamphlets up front.”

The crowd began to filter out as I sifted my way through the onslaught of patients, and grabbed some literature to read later. Jack Jack folded his pad and joined me as I walked back to the aisle where Sam waited by the door.

“Hey, let’s go out and get in a few games of cornhole before dinner,” Jack Jack said.

We all agreed and melded with the mass of patients who poured outside.

It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon with the gentle breeze that caressed everything, from the ripples in the pond to flowers that grew by the tennis courts.

We hurried across the parking lot and through the grassy field to get first pick at the corn sacks that lay around the platforms. Poised, we stood ready to play when we realized that we needed a fourth. We scouted around the grounds, and then Jack Jack screamed into the pavilion.

“Bobby, get your ninja ass over here,” he said as he waved his hand full of corn bags.

Immediately, Bobby lumbered out with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“So what are the teams?” Jack Jack yelled from the distant platform.

“It’ll be me and you against Bobby and Matt,” Sam screamed back.

We all took our positions beside the platform, as Jack Jack and Bobby had corn sacks in hand.

“Well, it looks like the druggy buggy is off to make another pick up,” Sam said as he looked at the parking lot.

Thump went a corn sack as it hit the platform by Sam and me.

“Why do they call it a druggy buggy?” I asked.

“It’s just another name for the van that picks up and drops off the addicts, that’s all,” Sam said.

Thump.

“Kind of like the new kid with the spiked multicolored hair staring at us?” I whispered to Sam.

“Eeyup.”

Thump…thump.

“I don’t know why anyone would want to have that much attention drawn to them,” I said, as we continued to stare at the individual.

“Great, he’s coming over here,” Sam said.

Thump.

“You got a problem, old man?” he asked as he stared at me.

“Old man?” I couldn’t believe what I just heard.

Jack Jack and Bobby stopped and walked over.

“Why do you keep looking at my hair? What, you never did anything wild when you were young?” the young man asked.

Slightly confused, I looked at my three friends and became amused at the thought of those clowns as comfort, and that they actually thought they could win a fight.

Not to miss the beat, I made light of the situation. “Yeah, I got real stoned one time when I was young and fucked a peacock. I was just making sure you weren’t my son.”

Sam started to cough violently as he laughed, while Jack Jack and Bobby turned around and giggled. Perhaps realizing that I did not mean any harm, the young man smirked as he continued about his business.

“I didn’t see that one coming,” Sam said as he spat in the grass.

I smiled and kept an eye on the young man. “Well, I guess with old age comes wisdom.”

Thump.

We gathered at a picnic table in the pavilion after Jack Jack’s and Sam’s win, and all partook of a celebratory cigarette, while the newbies fluttered around the different groups, and waited to plant their flag of acceptance.

“Shitmanfuck. Is that who I think it is coming out of the building?” Sam yelled.

They all turned to see who Sam saw.

“Holy shit it is, it’s Tiffany,” Jack Jack said.

Tiffany was a young, petite, blonde, blue eyed, big-breasted woman who looked as though she could have stepped off the cover of a magazine.

“She was released only a week ago and left with another patient. An Italian guy, I think,” Bobby said. “It just goes to show you, two bad alcoholics or druggies usually make one good one.”

“Unbelievable, she must have relapsed,” Sam said.

“Do ya think?” Bobby asked.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” Bobby seemed to be irritated.

“Ooh, I remember that one hot day; she was sitting in the field with the fountain behind her, eating that ice cream push up with two hands and mama…” Jack Jack started.

“You’re not helping yourself with Lyedecker watching you,” Victoria said.

Immediately, our eyes shifted upward to the window above the nurse’s window where we saw Dr. Lyedecker perched, like an eagle ready to swoop down.

Irritated, Jack Jack turned to Victoria. “How is it that you always pop out of nowhere at the worst time, Squirrel?”

“Just trying to look out for you, Jack Jack. You know Dr. Lyedecker has a thing for you,” she said as she sat next to me.

He began to light a cigarette. “That’s because he has a hard on for me. Hell, he knows that I can lick this shit on my own. The only reason I’m in here is because of my family.”

Tired of his excuses, we looked away.

“Maybe he truly just wants to help you, Jack Jack,” I said.

In my own feeble way, I became vulnerable and showed a small attempt at caring. But it was all I could give, and I quickly hid behind my shell.

“He’s only doing it because he wants the old man’s money.” Angered, he flicked his cigarette. “Look, I’m tired of talking about this, what’s for dinner?”

“I think we’re having pizza,” Bobby said, his eyes wide.

“Then let’s go in. It’s time anyway.”

Jack Jack left the table as the rest of the group put out their cigarettes and followed him down the path.

With the cafeteria doors still locked, we stood in the growing line. As he waited with arms folded, Jack Jack noticed a certain figure in the mass of patients ahead of him and walked back in line, behind Bobby.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“The farther away I am from that asshole, the better.”

“Who?”

“Danny.”

“Danny?”

Danny was a white, medium build, good looking young man, with a conservative dress and a soft complexion. His demeanor seemed pure, but as I later learned his intentions were as cold as his jet-black hair. And the ones who had witnessed the darkness behind his hazel eyes stayed clear of his advances.

“Yeah, there’s just something about him I don’t like. I’ve seen his type before. I think he’s selling to some of the patients here, but I can’t prove it.”

With contempt and anger pulsating from his eyes, Jack Jack watched Danny’s every movement.

The cafeteria doors opened and the smell of pizza washed over the patients.

Like lemmings, the group moved inside as one as we walked over to Pat, who already sat at an empty table.

“Hey Pat.” Our voices imitated his.

“Hello.”

“You always get the best seat in the house, Pat,” Bobby said.

“Like I said before, the food is all the same, so why wait in line for it?”

We grabbed chairs, scanned the room, and looked for anyone who might want to join us. But the noise and chaos from the line behind us made it impossible to find anyone we knew.

“So, gentlemen, what’s on the agenda for this evening?” Sam asked.

“We got the AA speaker after dinner and then it’s the Stanley Cup finals,” Pat said, as he relaxed.

Jack Jack began to laugh. “Good, that means we’ll have double security like we did last time.”

“Yeah, Matt, your first night on the second floor should be fun,” Sam smiled.

“Oh crap.” Jack Jack’s body started to deflate. “I forgot that this weekend is visitation weekend.”

Just then, Molly appeared out of the line of patients and escorted a newbie over to our table.

He was a shell of a man with salt and pepper hair, glasses that hung on the edge of his nose, and a complexion that was whiter than the normal detox patients. His hands clutched his pants where his belt used to be, and his eyes were as heavy as his expression.

“Everybody, I would like you to meet Mick L. He is a new patient and is having a hard time adjusting. So, I thought you might be able to keep him company and get him adjusted to his new surroundings. Okay?”

Mick, who moved at a snail’s pace, seemed to be heavily medicated. He extended one of the chairs, as Sam and Molly helped him down to make sure he wouldn’t fall.

“Thank you, guys. Just bring him back to the nurses’ station when dinner is over. And try to see that he eats something.”

Molly walked out of the cafeteria as the group stared at Mick, whose eyes were fixated on the top of the table. At first, no one uttered a word, and then suddenly, Mick started to lean to one side as if he was going to fall. I leaned over and pushed him upward. We all watched. Again, he started to lean as I pushed him upward, and looked at the group for assistance.

“So, Mick, did you just get in?” Sam asked.

The group sat uncomfortably and waited for a response as he faintly nodded his head.

“Why don’t you guys go up and get your dinner and bring a tray back for me and Mick,” I said, taking charge.

Slow and stubborn, they proceeded.

“Hey, somebody has to watch him.”

Taking care of Mick was like being a child watching his drunken father at a family picnic. I suddenly realized I was experiencing something I hadn’t in a long time. I had started to care again.

The group returned and laid a tray in front of Mick. Surprised by the noise, he slowly jostled back. I made sure he was steady, gradually released my hand from his shoulder, and started to eat my meal.

“So, you prepared for Pittsburgh to take a beating tonight, Jack Jack?” Sam teased.

“There is no way Detroit is going to beat them. Even if they go the full series, Pittsburgh is going to pull it off, you watch,” Jack Jack replied.

“Hey, Mick, you like hockey?” Sam asked, as he tried to be polite.

Seemingly oblivious to the comment, Mick started to reach for his milk as the group watched him. He grabbed the carton and stumbled to pull apart the cardboard opening. After three minutes of this ordeal, I, now irritated, snatched the milk and opened it for him.

He put the milk back and answered, “No.”

Puzzled as to what he was talking about, we finally realized that he had now answered the question.

“Oh, uh, okay. So, then what do you do for a living?” Jack Jack asked.

Again we sat and waited for an answer that failed to come. Meanwhile, Mick took a sip of milk, put it back on the tray, and slowly grabbed his pizza.

“Anyways,” Jack Jack said. “Matt, you got to meet this hippie guy that’s on the second floor. I swear to God he looks exactly like Jesus. But he’s like this walking human drug cushion and the stories he tells are absolutely hilarious. Like this one time, he was completely wasted and was driving back to his house with a bag of crystal meth. Well, he gets paranoid that the cops are following him, so he takes a handful and throws it out the window into somebody’s yard. So, the next day after it stops raining, he goes back to pick through the grass to get the stuff, when he notices the yard he threw it in is covered in baseball size burn marks. Apparently the rain dissolved the drugs into the grass and burned this guy’s entire lawn!” Jack Jack started to laugh.

“Toilet paper,” Mick mumbled as tomato sauce dripped from his mouth.

“Huh?” asked Jack Jack.

“I deliver toilet paper.”

“Good, you deliver toilet paper.” Confused, Jack Jack looked at us for guidance, while Pat, who was known not to dance around any topic, spoke his mind.

“Man, you must have been seriously messed up if they loaded you with a boat of meds. Did you try to kill yourself?”

Embarrassed, we tried to ignore Pat.

“Well, look at him. He can barely walk, let alone talk. And his food is all over himself.”

He was undeniably a complete mess. For the rest of dinner we sat quietly and watched him eat.

When dinner was over, we maneuvered our way toward the door. After we discarded our trash, we motioned to Mick that it was time to leave. Sam and I grabbed Mick by the arms, hoisted him up, and supported his dead weight as we struggled to make him walk, careful not to get any of his mess on our clothes.

“Come on, Mick, you have to help us a little, one step in front of the other,” I said.

Like a zombie, Mick walked down the hall, and wobbled back and forth between Sam and me as everyone we passed looked at us with sympathy. The aggravation and frustration on our faces grew as we picked up our speed and Mick stumbled to keep up. In the midst of this solemn scene, Sam and I started to laugh as we appreciated our situation.

“Who would have ever thought that we would be doing this at this point in our lives?” I said.