Recovery (15 page)
Authors: John Berryman
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IT WAS AFTER TUESDAY MIDNIGHT, Week III of one of the lesser dynasties of the Middle Kingdom, when Severance, low in the mouth, wandering restlessly about his insufferable room, heard a knock and let Mike M in. He said only, âI wondered if you'd like to have this,' pushing a sheet of paper out awkwardly, and went away. The scientist sat
down with it. Maybe this was Help. He had received two important pieces of advice from Mike already: âIf you pick up one piece a day, you're in business,' and, âStop wondering and questioning. If it's working for me, okay.' Instead of reading the paper he thought about these. Neither had done him much good. He was picking up
twenty
âpieces' a day and here he was in the Seventh Circle, worrying all. Envy, as he often told people ironically, was a base emotion; so he directed it after Mike. Mike had told him about
his
rescue. His own hadn't seemed to stick, though he did feel he had the First Step by its preternatural balls.
down with it. Maybe this was Help. He had received two important pieces of advice from Mike already: âIf you pick up one piece a day, you're in business,' and, âStop wondering and questioning. If it's working for me, okay.' Instead of reading the paper he thought about these. Neither had done him much good. He was picking up
twenty
âpieces' a day and here he was in the Seventh Circle, worrying all. Envy, as he often told people ironically, was a base emotion; so he directed it after Mike. Mike had told him about
his
rescue. His own hadn't seemed to stick, though he did feel he had the First Step by its preternatural balls.
The sheet was headed âGod': and ran in loosely printed letters as follows.
âI offer Myself to theâ
To Build with Me And Do
with Me As thou Wilt.
Relieve me of my Bondage
of Self that I may Better
Do Thy Will.
Take Away My Difficulties
that Victory over them may
Bear Witness [word much rewritten] to those I
would help of thy Love,
Thy Power And thy way
of Life.
May I Do My Will
Always.'
To Build with Me And Do
with Me As thou Wilt.
Relieve me of my Bondage
of Self that I may Better
Do Thy Will.
Take Away My Difficulties
that Victory over them may
Bear Witness [word much rewritten] to those I
would help of thy Love,
Thy Power And thy way
of Life.
May I Do My Will
Always.'
The University Professor was amused by the tyrannical slip of the executive's pen though the man was moved. Mike was ahead of him all right; you were not responsible for your unconscious. He even tried to construe the clumsy lettering of âMy' into âThy' but it wouldn't wash. Severance was expert in various handwritings, particularly Seventeenth Century, and the âM' was irreconcilable with
any of the four âth's' just above it. The point was the sincerity of the assignation, Mike confirming his give-up. In fact, this was a sort of Fifth Stepââto God, to ourselves, and to another human being.' He was the other human being. Touched.
any of the four âth's' just above it. The point was the sincerity of the assignation, Mike confirming his give-up. In fact, this was a sort of Fifth Stepââto God, to ourselves, and to another human being.' He was the other human being. Touched.
Mike's rescue had been much like his last Spring. Both had been trying to run their ordinary lives instead of giving their whole attention and force and desire to a treatment Programme. Mike's situation was tricky: he owned his business but he had with supreme unwiseness taken in one employee and one man from outside as partners, and during the month he had been in hospital one was lying down on the job and the other was trying to cut Mike's throat with both their customers and the competition. They were also fighting cat-and-dog with each other. Mike
could
fire the slacker (though he hated the prospect, they were Army buddies) but he neededâat presentâthe traitor. He walked on eggs, twice or even more often a week when they came in the evening to confer in the downstairs lounge. Now nobody was forbidden to go down there but patients were supposed to stay on the Ward. It was by the Grace of God, thenâSeverance was with him thereâthat just as he was about to explode at both of them one evening and throw the firm into chaos, Rita walked in and said harshly, âWhat are you doing here?' to Mike. His rage collapsed as a balloon plops. âWhat
am
I doing here?' he asked himself. âThose bastards might cost me my life, the hell with Allied Products'âhe seized Rita's rather formidable hand briefly (âThanks!') and went off upstairs without a word. The partners thought he was crazy, but what could they do worse than they were doing, and from that moment three days before he had dated his beginning of recovery. God bless him.
could
fire the slacker (though he hated the prospect, they were Army buddies) but he neededâat presentâthe traitor. He walked on eggs, twice or even more often a week when they came in the evening to confer in the downstairs lounge. Now nobody was forbidden to go down there but patients were supposed to stay on the Ward. It was by the Grace of God, thenâSeverance was with him thereâthat just as he was about to explode at both of them one evening and throw the firm into chaos, Rita walked in and said harshly, âWhat are you doing here?' to Mike. His rage collapsed as a balloon plops. âWhat
am
I doing here?' he asked himself. âThose bastards might cost me my life, the hell with Allied Products'âhe seized Rita's rather formidable hand briefly (âThanks!') and went off upstairs without a word. The partners thought he was crazy, but what could they do worse than they were doing, and from that moment three days before he had dated his beginning of recovery. God bless him.
Bless me too, You. Granted I don't deserve it
or anything
. Severance felt more discouraged than ever, and he did a thing rare for him: he swung into play, on his behalf
against the horrors of worthlessness, not his fancy, visible accomplishments and despised honours, but the real stuff, definitive (if anything ever deserved that termâthree observers had recently independently concurred on speeds greater than light, so muchâperhapsâfor
that
cornerstone) but unannounced. Leaving aside this that and the other, what was it? Limit to three. In what order:
or anything
. Severance felt more discouraged than ever, and he did a thing rare for him: he swung into play, on his behalf
against the horrors of worthlessness, not his fancy, visible accomplishments and despised honours, but the real stuff, definitive (if anything ever deserved that termâthree observers had recently independently concurred on speeds greater than light, so muchâperhapsâfor
that
cornerstone) but unannounced. Leaving aside this that and the other, what was it? Limit to three. In what order:
I. Alkaline phosphatase higher levels before ovulation. A saliva test had proved easy, and three of those he developed twelve years ago showed correlation with body temperature. Begin with the advanced nations, if the silly sex would do it. Church behind you, for once. Hard to see who wouldn't be.
II. Sacrifice as the key to the relation between Technology and primate Survival. A new American Dream (the old one, Getting On and Doing Good, having turned into The American Nightmare as a friend of his had put it twenty-odd years ago, catchphrase now): Giving Up and being. Leave the ozone in the stratosphere alone, for instance. Spiritual problem as well as biochemical and politico-economic.
III. The Big C was (most likely) a virus. Fantastic simplification, and not even literally trueâproblems of redefinitionâbut the
only
avenue in (to date), and he wondered to God why nobody else had stumbled on it during the last eighteen years. Staring them in the faceâadmittedly, only after I) consummate invitation, 2) recognizing
the
tool, 3) making one initial connexion, and 4) working their asses off as he had in the winter of '52â3, from a bloody
spectrum
of verification and exclusion.
only
avenue in (to date), and he wondered to God why nobody else had stumbled on it during the last eighteen years. Staring them in the faceâadmittedly, only after I) consummate invitation, 2) recognizing
the
tool, 3) making one initial connexion, and 4) working their asses off as he had in the winter of '52â3, from a bloody
spectrum
of verification and exclusion.
The three had a common teleology, he suddenly saw: lifeâor more life anyway. Similar origins too. Severance was a believer in serendipity, like every creative scientist artist and philosopher he knew, but he also believed in the power of frontal attackânot putting up with nescience. The seminal discoveries (recognitions, he preferred to call
them) emerged from that cooperation. Well. Similar destinations? No. The first was frontpage country-wide, but only III was Nobel likelihoodâfor which in fact he sometimes now got mentioned
anyway
, with almost nothing showing. Who cared? Small wonder that for all his vaunted professionalism his heroes were always the strong silent men (women tooâthe unpretentious precision of old Mrs Mullins) with everything up their sleeve. Give rare but burn it in. Dr Cushing's father never spoke to his family for weeks, abstracted, hard-pressed, eminent, came into the house one day and told his wife he'd given all his money to and brought home with him a woman who had lost both arms and both legs, a terrible case, out in the carriage right nowâbursting with admiration love and sympathy she ran out into the street and found propped up in it a bronze replica of the Venus of Milo. Happy days. In bed at last he drifted off and somewhere later he was shaking hands, though not of course from any position of equality, withâwas it Mary-Jane? yesââStronger than a man's, simpler than a child's, her nature was unique.'
them) emerged from that cooperation. Well. Similar destinations? No. The first was frontpage country-wide, but only III was Nobel likelihoodâfor which in fact he sometimes now got mentioned
anyway
, with almost nothing showing. Who cared? Small wonder that for all his vaunted professionalism his heroes were always the strong silent men (women tooâthe unpretentious precision of old Mrs Mullins) with everything up their sleeve. Give rare but burn it in. Dr Cushing's father never spoke to his family for weeks, abstracted, hard-pressed, eminent, came into the house one day and told his wife he'd given all his money to and brought home with him a woman who had lost both arms and both legs, a terrible case, out in the carriage right nowâbursting with admiration love and sympathy she ran out into the street and found propped up in it a bronze replica of the Venus of Milo. Happy days. In bed at last he drifted off and somewhere later he was shaking hands, though not of course from any position of equality, withâwas it Mary-Jane? yesââStronger than a man's, simpler than a child's, her nature was unique.'
Â
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After the rousing lecture next morning on Human Toxicology (âAmong the anatomic changes that have been observed are chronic meningitis with thickening, serious effusions into the ventricles, softening of the brain, and tendencies to hemorrhage and apoplexy ⦠. The mental changes are gradual and progressive, the intellect is obtunded, the judgment overthrown, the moral sense blunted, and mendacity appears in its most bizarre forms, delusions may develop ⦠combination of peripheral sensory polyneuritis with a peculiar tendency to confabulation ⦠. alcoholic pseudo-paresis, which may be distinguished from the syphilitic paresis by the tendency to recovery if drinking can be controlled'âdon't you believe
it) Severance indulged, before Group, in a retrospect.
it) Severance indulged, before Group, in a retrospect.
â3rd Wed. a.m.,' he wrote in the bitter recollection that very very shortly his case would be up for review, and if no progress,
out
. What in God's name would he do? âFirst week, increasing selfconfidence,
unjustified:
because no amount of hard and “honest” thinking will keep me sober, even if my brain were not “fogged” (Gus's word) by
withdrawal
(haha, I thought I didn't have any) and
delusion:
it seems to me now that what
may
do that is the simple ability to
recognize
my
emotions
as they occur (I absolutely did not hear Jerry's concern for me until Mike asked me, though) and then the -' what word? he left a spaceââto handle them appropriatelyâas for years I've handled them
in
appropriately, namely with alcohol.
out
. What in God's name would he do? âFirst week, increasing selfconfidence,
unjustified:
because no amount of hard and “honest” thinking will keep me sober, even if my brain were not “fogged” (Gus's word) by
withdrawal
(haha, I thought I didn't have any) and
delusion:
it seems to me now that what
may
do that is the simple ability to
recognize
my
emotions
as they occur (I absolutely did not hear Jerry's concern for me until Mike asked me, though) and then the -' what word? he left a spaceââto handle them appropriatelyâas for years I've handled them
in
appropriately, namely with alcohol.
âSecond week, increasing
self-doubt
âmaybe a small but definite improvement, because my mental apparatus
is
in poor shape: didn't even recognize Gus (surprised when he spoke of this later, and also minimized both to him and myself my drinking over those terrible days), thought yesterday October 2 instead of 27, etc. etc. “Bewildered” (my own word) by what Linc and Rita said to me.
Emotions
also
stupid
and confused: did not know
how
to respond to Vin's friendly, embracing even, delighted with everything heard about my progress, in the hallâgrateful, pleased, but somehow half-blocked and distorted, skeptical, resentful, God damn you. Often catch myself also in
irrelevance
âhave to fight itâclear enough in Stack yesterday, but what about me, part of the illness? Evasion?'
self-doubt
âmaybe a small but definite improvement, because my mental apparatus
is
in poor shape: didn't even recognize Gus (surprised when he spoke of this later, and also minimized both to him and myself my drinking over those terrible days), thought yesterday October 2 instead of 27, etc. etc. “Bewildered” (my own word) by what Linc and Rita said to me.
Emotions
also
stupid
and confused: did not know
how
to respond to Vin's friendly, embracing even, delighted with everything heard about my progress, in the hallâgrateful, pleased, but somehow half-blocked and distorted, skeptical, resentful, God damn you. Often catch myself also in
irrelevance
âhave to fight itâclear enough in Stack yesterday, but what about me, part of the illness? Evasion?'
He sighed. Severance was a great sigher, they came from way down, and he did not altogether trust people who did not
sigh
a good deal or at least look as if they did. He did not trust himself either, but he started a third paragraph. âAt least I
have
been seeking people a little (Mary-Jane, Luriel, Jereeânot much, and all women!) and welcoming them (Harry, Gene, Charley, Mikeâtwo
greatly
helped me). Luriel conned me, with a phantom “compulsive eating”; at least I recognized this later when she was trying to con Cathy.'
sigh
a good deal or at least look as if they did. He did not trust himself either, but he started a third paragraph. âAt least I
have
been seeking people a little (Mary-Jane, Luriel, Jereeânot much, and all women!) and welcoming them (Harry, Gene, Charley, Mikeâtwo
greatly
helped me). Luriel conned me, with a phantom “compulsive eating”; at least I recognized this later when she was trying to con Cathy.'
Prognosis? He was glad to hear the bell for Group. At least the review, the uneasy review, had spared him his usual state of mind as ten o'clock approached, which he put as: cyclonic apprehension. The sooner he got confronted, the betterâghastly ghastly, but better. He couldn't tell where he stood.
It did not happen.
But in mid-afternoon little Sherry, from Vin's Group last Spring, walked into his bedroom. She had been drinking for three days. Not muchâless than a bottle of wineâbut she hadn't been to work and her Civil Service job was imperilled for the nth time, though her supervisor (also an alcoholic) protected herâthat is, enabled her. Little Sherry was tall, slender, very pretty if colourless, very sweet, entirely passive and fearful except when drinking. In bars she had tried several times to strangle the man sitting on the stool next her. One night stole a bar-stool around closing time, simply carried it out, it was foolishly sitting in the minute kitchenette of her pathetic apartment when Alan visited her once. She was alone, except for a mother in Chicago whom she hated and a boyfriend, also alcoholic, to whom she lent money and laid whenever he got around to it. One day they had decided to marry but were both too drunk to negotiate. She hated him, sex, her job, and herself, though apparently neither Rochelle (another out-patient, a blonde sexpot also from Vin's Group, now making it) nor Severance. Her life, at thirty (manner: fourteen), was emptier than any life hitherto presented to him for inspection. During over a month in treatment he had explored her lack of interests with the same unbaffled energy useful to him in lab, and it was rewarded: she was interested in something. Forty days of denial fell to the ground when he discovered that not only was she interested
in the history of North Dakota, she had actually gone into two bookshops asking for books on it. He had supported (in vain) this hummock almost lost in the general quagmire of her apathy, and once lent her a hundred dollars without wishing repayment. Now he did a Dutch uncle on her dangerous three days. She accepted everything (haha) but showed spirit when he urged her to pour the remaining inch-and-a-half of wine down her discoloured sink. âBut I'll need it,' she cried, âthe next time I have a slip! That's
money
.' âForty cents. Do you want to have to come back into treatment? You're as far out of line as you were six months ago. You're setting yourself up. You're at work on your next slip
already
.' âI am not,' she said vacantly. But he kissed her forehead with helplessness and squeezed her thin shoulders strongly before she wandered out.
in the history of North Dakota, she had actually gone into two bookshops asking for books on it. He had supported (in vain) this hummock almost lost in the general quagmire of her apathy, and once lent her a hundred dollars without wishing repayment. Now he did a Dutch uncle on her dangerous three days. She accepted everything (haha) but showed spirit when he urged her to pour the remaining inch-and-a-half of wine down her discoloured sink. âBut I'll need it,' she cried, âthe next time I have a slip! That's
money
.' âForty cents. Do you want to have to come back into treatment? You're as far out of line as you were six months ago. You're setting yourself up. You're at work on your next slip
already
.' âI am not,' she said vacantly. But he kissed her forehead with helplessness and squeezed her thin shoulders strongly before she wandered out.
And after Dr Rome's classic lecture on the effects of alcohol on the brain and central nervous system in the evening, talking with another out-patient he heard with horror the recent history of Little Marv. His wife after sixteen years of battling it had finally given in and was
drinking with him
. They had flown madly around two States in his Cesna, landing in Akron with Marv derelict and babbling. Strapped on a stretcher he was rushed off to a straitjacket. âThe brain damage must be something,' Severance said sick. Even last Spring he had noticed Korsakow's syndrome. Little Marv had then already been in treatment all over the Middle West five times, and he was resolute, nobody on the Ward comparable for determination, and his terrible I've-
got
-to earnestness seemed to pay off with immense real strides, reconquest of reality, submissions, relaxation achieved. He went out happy, into a forest of gin and narrow, wide, slowly wheeling airstrips.
drinking with him
. They had flown madly around two States in his Cesna, landing in Akron with Marv derelict and babbling. Strapped on a stretcher he was rushed off to a straitjacket. âThe brain damage must be something,' Severance said sick. Even last Spring he had noticed Korsakow's syndrome. Little Marv had then already been in treatment all over the Middle West five times, and he was resolute, nobody on the Ward comparable for determination, and his terrible I've-
got
-to earnestness seemed to pay off with immense real strides, reconquest of reality, submissions, relaxation achieved. He went out happy, into a forest of gin and narrow, wide, slowly wheeling airstrips.
Â
Â
Confrontation
Â
H
ARLEY SWUNG his hooded eyes lazily around the Group after they sat down following the Serenity Prayer âKeg was staring at his knuckles in his lap, long legs outstretched in a straight line towards the center of the circleâand they came to rest on Severance's, and stayed. The scientist tried to look as if he had absolutely nothing in the world to hide, but his heart rose throat-ward, and the smile he hoped for failed. Once, doing a two-week summer job in Salt Lake, he had been driven with another of the visiting stars to Guardsman's Pass at ten thousand feet in the Wasatch Range by some Utah scientists, they parked, ridge-walked, dropped down a little to a tarn. He and Herb decided to go in, and stripped, while the natives broke out the whiskey, jeering. Herb dived in and came back in a recoil that may have lasted six or seven seconds, splashing on Severance the coldest water he had ever felt. There was Maine, way Down, and there was the north shore of Lake Superior: kid stuff. He had gone in too, stayed a bit. He braced himself.
ARLEY SWUNG his hooded eyes lazily around the Group after they sat down following the Serenity Prayer âKeg was staring at his knuckles in his lap, long legs outstretched in a straight line towards the center of the circleâand they came to rest on Severance's, and stayed. The scientist tried to look as if he had absolutely nothing in the world to hide, but his heart rose throat-ward, and the smile he hoped for failed. Once, doing a two-week summer job in Salt Lake, he had been driven with another of the visiting stars to Guardsman's Pass at ten thousand feet in the Wasatch Range by some Utah scientists, they parked, ridge-walked, dropped down a little to a tarn. He and Herb decided to go in, and stripped, while the natives broke out the whiskey, jeering. Herb dived in and came back in a recoil that may have lasted six or seven seconds, splashing on Severance the coldest water he had ever felt. There was Maine, way Down, and there was the north shore of Lake Superior: kid stuff. He had gone in too, stayed a bit. He braced himself.
âAlan, what sort of fellow do you see yourself as being?'
That was all, but that was enough and too much. What
a question. âWell, I do science. Write books, lecture and so on. Sometimes I give seminars in the Arts College, or away. Serve on boards, train younger men. Various things. I don't do much Government work; some.' His voice sounded to himself defensive, and the list had gone on longer than he intended.
a question. âWell, I do science. Write books, lecture and so on. Sometimes I give seminars in the Arts College, or away. Serve on boards, train younger men. Various things. I don't do much Government work; some.' His voice sounded to himself defensive, and the list had gone on longer than he intended.
âI didn't ask what you do. We don't give a damn what you do. I asked what you are.'
Alan knew that he
ought
not to get annoyed, still he bristled slightly. It was undeniable that he was not used to being talked to like this, or asked to give an account of himself, except career summaries for reference works (and they went in the wastebasket). He looked around mentally for a wastebasket. No wastebasket.
ought
not to get annoyed, still he bristled slightly. It was undeniable that he was not used to being talked to like this, or asked to give an account of himself, except career summaries for reference works (and they went in the wastebasket). He looked around mentally for a wastebasket. No wastebasket.
âI don't know, Harley.' (He wished he could sign his name, as Unamuno did in the hut-book on top of a Spanish mountain, and write under âProfession': âA humble man, and a tramp.') âI'm a useful man, in some ways, rotten with certain successes, hopelessly arrogant. I try to be a decent husband, when not stoned. I'm faithful, except once. No, twice, now. I love my daughter. I work like a maniac. I have a drinking problem.'
âYou have a life problem.'
âExcuse me, I have
published
thirteen books.' Despite himself, Dr Severance's voice was very hard.
published
thirteen books.' Despite himself, Dr Severance's voice was very hard.
âAnd how many unpublished?'
My God, how could he know that. Usually Severance gloried in all his invisible (so far) achievements, like an icebergâwhen not tortured by them. But not just now. âSome,' he said reluctantly.
âCome on, give.' This was Keg, leaning forward from the waist with bright eyes.
âHow should I know?'
â“How should I know.” You mean you actually don't know how many books you have under way?'
Severance felt rattled. âDamn it,
I
work.
No. I have no
idea. There's one lifelong one, and another twenty years now. Another. Two more far advanced. A new one.' He was sweating as he walked through his monsters.
I
work.
No. I have no
idea. There's one lifelong one, and another twenty years now. Another. Two more far advanced. A new one.' He was sweating as he walked through his monsters.
âThat's it? Six?'
âCall it six. No doubt there are others.' (One more jumped to his mind, curse it.)
âYou're irritating me.
How
many
unpublished books do you have around?'
How
many
unpublished books do you have around?'
âGod knows,' he gave up. âI can't think.'
âDo they matter to you?'
âMatter? They're my life work.'
âYou are deluded. They are not your life work.'
Severance burst into flame, and stamped it out. There was a silence. âIf it weren't for my drinking they wouldn't
be
unfinished.'
be
unfinished.'
âI wonder. But what about the rest of your life?'
âI have terrible trouble with young women. That's a fact, and it isn't all my fault. I love my wife and daughter. I support my mother.'
âIs that your whole family? You're very hard to track today, Alan.'
âI have a son by a previous marriage.' He felt trouble coming but he was determined to hold nothing back.
âHow old?'
âThirteen. I think.'
âYou don't know.'
âHe may be fourteen.'
â“He may be.” What's your relation with him like?'
âVery poor,' Severance said miserably. âHe lives in the East. I only get there maybe three times a year.'
âAnd always see him, of course?'
âNo. No. I'm always pressed for time. It's awful.' He brooded. âHis letters are very childish, I can't find out anything about him.'
âIt doesn't sound as if you try very hard. When did you see him last?'
Severance had to think. He thought, and he hurt. âHe came for a visit once. Two years ago? Three years?'
âWell, which is it?'
âGod almighty, I don't know.'
âWhen did you see him last at his home?'
âI've never been there. She brings him to New York.'
âWell, in New York.'
Severance thought in vain, felt backward for his son's face. âI don't know. I just don't know. Leave me alone!'
âThat's the trouble, Alan. You are alone.'
âIt's the drinking. I always drink on trips.'
âHorseshit in all directions all over the place,' said Keg with contempt. âBut it does sound as if you always drink, period.'
He pivoted from pain to rage. âThat's what my goddamned wife said, in a dyad last Spring. It's
crap.
' He glared at Keg's long hard face. âI've done an incredible amount of work in spite of my drinking.
Sober work.
'
crap.
' He glared at Keg's long hard face. âI've done an incredible amount of work in spite of my drinking.
Sober work.
'
âExactly: “incredible.” '
âIt's true,' he shouted.
âSay it is. What kind of a
life
do you have? You go East how oftenâthree times a yearâand you can't remember when you saw your son last? You don't know how many
years
it is.'
life
do you have? You go East how oftenâthree times a yearâand you can't remember when you saw your son last? You don't know how many
years
it is.'
Severance felt tears coming. He couldn't deny it. What kind of a father was he? He stared at his boots. He wished with all his heart that he could feel sorry for himself, but that was out of the question. It was simple: he was an utter bastard.
There was a long silence. He didn't know whether anyone was looking at him or not. He hoped, without hope, not. He would have liked to shrink into his chair-back taking his shame with him.
âYour life-style,' Harley said gently, âseems to leave something to be desired. Do all these great accomplishments
of yours give you any great pleasure, Alan? You're proud of them?'
of yours give you any great pleasure, Alan? You're proud of them?'
âNo,' he heard his voice weary and low. âNo, I'm not. I'm ashamed of them.'
âWhy are you ashamed of them?' Keg asked robustly.
âYou ought to be proud of them. Why not?'
âIt's not my doing, except the work. I do work some times. But all my priorities are wrong. I see that.'
âYou see it's not just drinking?'
This was hard, very hard. He couldn't think, he just felt. âI see it. My whole goddamned life is a fucking mess even apart from the drinking.'
âMe too!' said Stack suddenly. âThe wife confronted me last night, about all everything I did this last time after I lost my job. I was a beast in sex. I did awful things! The wife forgave me!' He raved onâand Severance, who was also a beast in sex, besides being off the hook now, felt an obscure gladness to find out that all his trouble was
not just drinking
. In some way that he could not have stated, he felt a new hope not just about his sonâsomething could be done about that!âbut also about everything,
including
his drinking. If that was not the whole business, maybe it could be put to rightsâthat is to say, obliteratedâafter all. The Third Step. He took his mind off Stack's outburst long enough for two violent, grieving prayers.
not just drinking
. In some way that he could not have stated, he felt a new hope not just about his sonâsomething could be done about that!âbut also about everything,
including
his drinking. If that was not the whole business, maybe it could be put to rightsâthat is to say, obliteratedâafter all. The Third Step. He took his mind off Stack's outburst long enough for two violent, grieving prayers.
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