The Drunk Logs (29 page)

What had we done? The carcass was fresh, and the hyenas smelled it. They did not gather for the appearance; they gathered for blood.

Eventually, Carl exited and tried in vain to disperse the crowd of patients, yelling and waving them off. His efforts were ignored until Dr. Lyedecker made his presence known, and all went silent.

For a while we looked, for he did not take a breath as he sectioned the patients and cut them down in groups with his heavy eyes. We shuddered and hid behind one another as he raised his pale, dry hand and waved Danny to come hither. There, in the hallway, in plain view of everyone, stood Danny. His face was painted like a ten-dollar whore, with eyes black, and his cheeks and lips a dark ruby red.

The patients laughed as he passed by; he tried to wipe away the tears, which only made his appearance more suiting.

Oh, how Danny used to be this comfortable fly on the wall and was now the belle of the ball, with pointed suitors in the direction of the wicked stepsister
, I thought. He tried to leave, but his advances were blocked not only by the crowd, but by his slow-moving master. Insults and insinuations crippled him down the line as he tried to hold his own, following in the footsteps of Big Toledo.

With our bellies full, we gathered our things and dispersed to our rooms. The meal had been very satisfying, to say the least. There would be no need for dessert.

“To all patients, the next scheduled lecture will be delayed for half an hour. The next scheduled lecture will be delayed for half an hour. Thank you.” The intercom blared.

I grew tired as I sat in my room and left to have a cigarette, when I noticed Sam already at the elevator. I passed a few patients, who celebrated the departure of Danny, as they laughed and lied about what they would have done if given the chance.

We remained quiet on the ride down, through the hallway, and out to the sunlit pavilion.
It’s better if we don’t talk about it
, I thought.
What’s the point?
So, we relaxed and enjoyed the afternoon, where everything in this corner of our world remained the same, from the flowers and the number of bubbles in the pond to the length of Father Tom’s beard.

We enjoyed, what I believed to be, our last cigarette. It was only a matter of time before we were found out. We let the cherries burn into the cotton as we walked back toward the building, and threw them into the warm grass. The steel door handle was cold as I yanked the door open and the air blew past our faces. To our surprise, Jack Jack appeared with a smile as big as Bobby’s appetite.

“Well, my ride is here,” Jack Jack said, handcuffed and amused, as two burly police officers jerked at his limp wrists.

“Uh…uh…” Sam and I stuttered.

“Hey, c’mon guys. Let me say goodbye to my friends,” Jack Jack said to the police officers.

“Hold him here for a second, John,” the one police officer said to the other. “Dr. Lyedecker is calling us.”

Sam and I stood nervous, and awaited our fate.

“Yeah, they got me for assault. Danny came to, after I knocked him out, and caught me painting his face. Told them I did the whole thing.” He winked as he smiled. “I thought the paint job looked pretty good.”

Sam and I nervously smiled at Jack Jack and I began to understand that, maybe, this was his twisted way of saying thank you.

“Well, at least I got my ride home. Just have to make one stop first,” he said as they pushed him forward. “Looks like I still went out with a bang, Sam,” his voice faded down the hall.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“I think so,” said Sam.

The intercom blared once again as Sam and I were engulfed by the other patients that pushed us down the hall and into the lecture room. There wasn’t any fanfare, parties, or goodbye kisses, just Jack Jack as he left on his own terms. He accepted the consequences in full, because he was still in the limelight and still in charge of yet another story to be told.

As questions and innuendoes died down over the next few days, we were back to our normal routines, and we gathered at the picnic table, played games of cornhole, and smoked cigarettes. I even began to love the heartfelt “Good Morning” routine. There was just one less of us. For if it was not for Jack Jack, our lives could have been different, but I don’t believe any of us would have wanted it that way.

Chapter 16

On the 34th day, I said my goodbyes to Sam and Victoria, the last two who remained from our group, and it had been three months since then. I was on my way back for an alumni celebration, that the center held once a year, and I could not wait to see them.

“An alumni celebration,” I laughed as I drove my Oldsmobile.
It still sounds funny when you say it
, I thought. I can't believe that I had graduated with a degree in sobriety. But I’d take whatever I could for now.

Nothing much had changed down the country road I traveled most recently. Even the memory of Barry Eugene on the hood of his Cadillac made me smile for the next few miles. I passed the mailbox again, still rusted, put the car in reverse, and parked next to a blue truck that looked awfully familiar. I stopped on the covered bridge, and watched the bubbles float between the rocks in the water.

“Spider man, Spider man. Does whatever a spider can,” I whispered as a car door slammed in the distance and woke me back to reality.

Inside the hospital, it was eerily quiet, with only the hum from the vending machines that echoed in the distance. I noticed red arrows taped to the walls and followed them to the back of the hospital. The noise and vibrant colors became clearer the closer I walked to the double doors. I took a deep breath, as my heart pounded against my chest, and I hesitated to pull the door open; my mind raced as to what lurked behind. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy filled my nostrils, while the thump of dance music tapped my shoes. Feeling foolish, I grabbed the steel door handle, now warm, and pulled.

It was a celebration of people reborn and old and new friendships. The pond was full of fishing poles, the cornhole sacks still lingered in the air, the picnic tables still struggled with weight, and the red pavilion still billowed with smoke. The tennis court was still cracked; the flowers were still in bloom, the people laughed and ate, and the children played in inflatable castles. And in the distance, through all the chaos, there was Sam cooking bratwurst on an outdoor grill, while he battled the white smoke from the changing wind.

I exited and weaved around the popcorn machine and raffle ticket booth, and battled my way through the crowd. I inched closer as Sam toasted buns and waved off the smoke.

“Care Bear!” I screamed, as Sam stepped back from the flames. But he was consumed by the smoke and did not see me as I tiptoed up behind him.

With my lips close to his right ear, I whispered, “I like my meat…”

“Woo!” Sam screamed as he ducked to the left.

Frightened, he looked back and saw me through the shifting smoke as I stood with a smirk on my face.

“You son of a bitch,” he said as we embraced. “When did you get here?”

“Just now. You were the first person that I saw, so I came a runnin’”

“Hey Buddha? Take over for me,” Sam said to the individual who stood at the edge of the grill.

“Buddha?” I asked.

“You know how nicknames are in this place,” he said as we walked to an open spot in the grass next to the pavilion. “He fell asleep outside and one of the women put some jewelry in his belly button. Hence the name, Buddha,” Sam said as he laughed.

“So, did you finally get out of here?” I asked.

“Yeah. I moved into a house down the street. I’ll probably stay there for a year and then move out of state.” He started to cough as he lit up a cigarette. “Start fresh, you know, new surroundings…different people.”

I gazed through the crowd and looked for one specific individual. “So, have you seen any of the old gang?”

“Yeah. Bobby’s supervising the children at one of the bouncy castles. Pat’s fishing with his kids; uh, Victoria is around here somewhere, and Father Tom is in the large white tent over there. The rest I haven’t seen.”

I smiled as children with balloons ran past. “What’s going on in the tent?”

“Oh, they’re about to have a meeting,” Sam said, coughing.

I kept looking into the crowd, but didn’t find the person I hoped to see so I lit a cigarette. “Have you seen Jack Jack?” I asked.

The look on Sam’s face spoke for itself as he threw his freshly lit cigarette into the grass.

“Jack Jack’s dead,” Sam paused, as he searched for the correct words. “They found him in a ditch about a half mile from here. Apparently, his family, ex-wife, and girlfriend had had enough. He even tried with Fie, which everyone knew was never going to work out. So, he got all loaded and tried to come back to the place he thought was going to accept him. Found him in his car, covered in vomit. They said he was…this…blue color no one has ever seen before.” Sam coughed and spat into the grass. “Rumor says, it was twelve hours before they found him,” he said as he lit another cigarette. “So…”

The laughter was gone, and the colors had faded as my shell collapsed, when Dr. Lyedecker exited the white tent. His eyes were bright blue and a smile had broken free from the once hardened face. I now understood that the man that stood before me was not the man I’d seen before, and the darkness through which he appeared was actually only my perception.

For it is told that man would rather struggle than to accept a helping hand, and the teaching that fell on deaf ears relied on experience, the only thing gained. So, if one could tell their story, would they change one single word? I think not; there would be no story to be told.

The smoke from the cigarette disappeared between the plush grass and my sole, when I took a deep breath and left Sam.

“Where are you going, Matt?”

“I’m going to the meeting.”