The Drunk Logs (13 page)

He leaned back as his attention was drawn toward Maureen.

“It’s not as bad as what they are saying. She was only caught using a couple of times. It was my fault and she’s been clean ever since I got in here.”

Maureen pressed. “Yes, but I told you, you cannot have any contact with her, whatsoever. She is only impairing your treatment here. You need to concentrate on your well-being first and not be bothered about the problems that are going on at home.”

Jack Jack started to rub his eyes and tilted his head back.

“It’s not like that. I need to talk with her once in a while to see how she’s doing and make sure she has enough money to pay the rent, because no one from either side of the family will help her.”

“They are not helping her because she is still involved with you.”

“Yeah. And that’s a bunch of bull-shit. For Christ’s sake, she’s out there by herself. I was the only one bringing home money and now that I’m in here, I can’t. You would think that the family would care enough to help out until I got home? I don’t see what harm that would cause,” he said.

Meanwhile, Robby, still in his own world, leaned over and asked William what a certain word in the homework meant.

“Now, do you see how many problems this is causing you, Jack? You’re concentrating on the problems with your ex-wife…wait, you’re only separated from her, right?” Maureen asked as she checked through her notes.

Ben shifted in his chair, crossed his legs, and ate up the conversation. It appeared that he was enthralled with Jack Jack’s turmoil.

“Technically,” said Jack Jack with a smirk.

“What do you mean ‘technically?’ You are or you aren’t?”

Bobby nudged me to look up at the clock. “Fifteen more minutes and we’re done,” he whispered. “Then it’s lunch time,” he sang.

“We just haven’t gone and signed the papers yet,” Jack Jack said.

“So, technically, you’re still married and are having an affair with a member of the family?” Maureen intensified her challenge.

“Well…”

“There is no well, Jack. You both are having and causing problems, not only with yourselves, but also within the family. No wonder you’re having a problem with recovery. You’re so worried about everyone else; you’re not taking care of yourself. That needs to be first.”

Suddenly, calm blanketed the room and everything became peaceful, almost numb with the sound of a rumble in the distance.

“Live by example, if you’re man enough to ‘catch’ what I got?” Ben said sarcastically, lowering his hands from his face down to his waist to reveal the perfect specimen I believed he thought he was.

Jack Jack lunged toward Ben, who tried to defend himself. Almost everyone joined in and tried to keep the two separate, while Maureen, who still sat in her chair, wheeled herself backward so as not to get hit. Robby, oblivious to what had happened, continued to work on his homework.

“I’m getting sick of your shit, you fairy!” Jack Jack screamed.

“What’s a matter, jelly, are you afraid of the truth? You’ve been here so many times you think you would have gotten it by now,” said Ben as he struggled to keep his stance.

Craig maneuvered his way into the middle of the two, while the others pretended to help, and watched from around the circle. Suddenly, a blur of white and gray bulldozed forward, and knocked patients out of the way like bowling pins.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong in here!” Larry Gates screamed.

“Things just became a little heated, that’s all,” Maureen said, and took a deep breath as she struggled out of her chair.

She straightened out her clothes, walked over to Jack Jack and Ben, grabbed both of their hands, and tightened her grip.

“Now, I want both of you two to make amends to each other and I don’t want to hear any arguing. And we are all going to stay in this room until both of you do.”

Bobby looked concerned that he would miss the baked chicken and rice for lunch.

“I’m sorry,” said Ben, the first to speak.

“Me, too.” Reluctantly, Jack Jack followed.

I guessed that neither of them meant it, but they complied for the sake of argument and the group.

“Now, everybody, get the fuck out!” Maureen bellowed.

We dissipated like oil in water and proceeded out the door, when I looked back and stopped. Maureen, broken and exhausted, plopped down in her chair and leaned her head back. As she rubbed her eyes, she leaned forward, and noticed Robby, who still sat with his homework on his lap.

“Robby? I’m sorry we did not get to you today, but I’ll make sure we talk to you first thing the next time group meets, O.K?”

“O.K.” as Robby giggled like a child.

As we walked down the hall, the group splintered. As the remainder of the groups began to exit from their rooms, the sound of conversation overtook the halls.

Just before I entered my room, I heard a voice scream from the distance.

“Whoever did this is going to pay, and I mean it!”

I looked down the hall and saw Jack Jack, Bobby, and Robby stare into a room as they laughed.

“Did you do this, Jack Jack?” the voice from within said.

“How could I do that, I was in group the past hour and a half.”

I walked back down the hall, stood next to Bobby, and looked into the room. Inside, there was a short, young, bald man who looked like Humpty Dumpty. He stood in front of his single crank mechanical bed that had been cranked to its highest position, in the shape of a “u.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to use the bed now?” the short man yelled, flailing his arms.

“Do you want me to get you a ladder?” Jack Jack said as he laughed.

“So, you think this is funny?”

“Calm down, oompa. Just call down to maintenance and they’ll fix it for you,” Bobby said as he laughed along.

“That’s just crazy,” Robby mumbled as he looked over Jack Jack’s shoulder.

There was nothing we could do as we left that poor fellow and marched back to our rooms. The joyful mood traveled with us, when Jack Jack and Bobby began to sing a song I hadn’t heard since my childhood.

“Oompa Loompa doom-pa-dee-do

I have a perfect puzzle for you

Oompa Loompa doom-pa-dee-dee

If you are wise, you’ll listen to me”

Bobby sang:

“What do you get when you guzzle down sweets?

Eating as much as an elephant eats”

Jack Jack sang:

“What are you at getting terribly fat?

What do you think will come of that?”

They both sang:

“I don’t like the look of it.”

Chapter 8

As I entered my room, laughing, I was surprised to see Pat lying on the nearest bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey, Pat, I didn’t know this was your room?”

“Yeah. I take it you’re my new roommate?” he said as he gradually sat up.

“Yep,” I said as I walked over to my bed.

“Good. I don’t have to get used to someone I don’t know.”

I unlocked my closet and started to put my clothes away methodically, while Pat grabbed the newspaper from the nightstand and began to read.

My new room was exactly as before, with the exception of the location and roommate, of course. I put my bag in the closet and locked the door. As I lay in bed I scanned the daily schedule to see what was next on my agenda. Lunch was from 12:00 to 1:30, and the clock on the wall showed 12:05.

“You ready to go for lunch?” Pat said.

“Sure, I didn’t know you were waiting for me.”

“I wasn’t, I just figured since I was going, I might as well see if you wanted to go,” he said.

As we walked to the elevator, the hallway was nearly bare, except for the new and confused aliens.

“So did anyone show you around the second floor yet?” Pat asked.

The elevator door opened.

“No, I came from the doctor and group was almost about to start, so I didn’t have time to look around,” I said.

The door closed as we waited for the first floor.

“Well, I’ll show you around after lunch. We have some time to kill before our next lecture.” We stood in the elevator longer than usual, and looked at each other, puzzled. “Why is this elevator taking so long?” Pat asked. “Oh yeah, I forgot to push the button,” he laughed.

“I guess that would help, wouldn’t it?” I smiled.

The elevator shook and slowly dropped to the first floor as the heavy door creaked open. The smell of chicken and rice rolled into the elevator as the cafeteria doors muffled the many conversations that took place behind them. As we entered, the conversation and heat from the kitchen engulfed us both. The patients followed their routines as Pat opened the refrigerator unit and grabbed some chocolate milk. I followed close behind, and noticed that my friends had spread out to two tables as they held spots open for the stragglers.

With chocolate milk on each tray, we waited at the end of the short line.

“This is why I like to come a little late for each meal, because everyone seems to want to be the first one in line, like it’s a giant race. They don’t comprehend that it’s the same food for everyone, unless you’re a diabetic,” Pat said.

With a plate full of chicken and rice on each tray, we slid down the line.

“Ooh, blueberry pie,” Pat said as he grabbed two bowls. “Looks like we get a treat today.”

Pat continued to the salad bar as I walked toward my friends and sat between Shawn and Shorty.

“What’s up guys?”

“Hey,” they mumbled in unison with their mouths full.

From the table next to us, Jack Jack threw his arm over his chair and leaned over. “So, how did you like your first day in group today, Matt?”

“It definitely was interesting, I’ll give you that,” I said. “Does that stuff happen all the time?”

“What, did you guys have one of your special meetings again?” Shawn interjected.

“Oh, yeah, but today was even better. Like I told you before, Shawn, that son of a bitch is gonna get it one of these days. It’s like he’s looking to antagonize me,” Jack Jack said.

“Dude, you just got to let it go,” Shawn said as he poured hot sauce onto his rice. “He must be doing it for some reason?”

“Shitmanfuck. Maybe he has the hots for little ol’ Jack Jack,” Shorty said as he puckered his lips.

“He wishes he could get a taste of me, that fucking faggot,” said Jack Jack.

Pat pulled over a chair and squeezed between Shawn and me.

“What you guys talking about, the lovers quarrel in group today?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Just do him and get it over with, Jack Jack,” Pat said as he sliced his chicken into small pieces.

Jack Jack looked as though he’d had enough of the conversation, and turned around to finish eating. The clatter of dishes, conversation, and the shuffle of patients and counselors alike filled the cafeteria. The air conditioning vents thumped and started to blow cold air throughout the room, while Shawn, who had finished eating, stood with his tray and headed over to get a lemon ice.

“Hey, Shorty. What’s with this ‘shitmanfuck’ they call you?” I asked.

Shorty finished chewing his food and wiped his mouth with his hand.

“Well, when I was in Vietnam…” he smirked.

“You were in Vietnam?” I asked.

“Yeah. I was a gunner.”

I was astonished that a man his size would be accepted into any war.

“He was an M.P., too,” Shawn said as he returned with the lemon ice. “He was so short, he used a cane to hit the larger guys on the head to subdue them.”

“Hey, some of the guys were a foot or more taller than me. I had to use whatever I could.”

“You probably looked like an old lady with a handbag,” Shawn said.

“Shut up, fool. Well anyway, the niggers in my platoon would always say ‘shitmanfuck’ whenever something bad was going to happen or when we would go out on patrol. So, it just carried over. Whenever something bad is about to happen, I just say it,” Shorty shrugged.

Pat’s face distorted as he began to rub his stomach. “Man, every time I eat that chicken it gives me bad gas.”

“That’s because you eat all those jalapeno poppers with it. Your stomach can’t handle that shit when you get older,” Shawn said.

After I finished my meal, I grabbed two lemon ices and returned to my friends.

“Here, Pat, eat this. It might ease your stomach.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna need that,” he said with a grimace.

With the lunch hour over, the masses left their tables and shuffled out the double doors. Having time to waste before our next lecture, the groups began to splinter. Some desired the freedom of the outdoors; some preferred the numb of the detox ward; and some preferred the refuge of the second floor.

“Hey, Matt, since we have time now, you want me to show you around the second floor?” Pat asked as he continued to eat his lemon ice.

“Sure.”

Like good toy soldiers, we stood with the other patients who waited for the elevator door to open and watched as a young, wannabe military patient pushed the up button repeatedly. His face was mean and hard, a perfect match to his accentuated, red-laced, worn-tipped combat boots.

The elevator door moaned and a group of patients exited as the wannabe military guy forced his way through them. We entered the elevator with apprehension, as some of the patients stood on one side, and Pat and I stood in front and stared at the door that closed.

No one moved and faint breath was the only sound that echoed off the car walls. Finally, a click from a metal latch was heard and the elevator door slowly opened. The vanilla walls and green carpet became clear on the second floor. Without hesitation, before the doors were completely open, Pat and I squeezed our way out.

We turned right toward our room and looked back, as the wannabe soldier exited slowly; the remainder of the individuals rode the elevator back to the first floor.

“Who the hell is that guy?” I asked, as we stood outside our room.

“I don’t know. He’s just some guy who’s pissed that he’s here and has conflicts with anyone who tries to approach him. We all just steer clear of him and hope he’s going to leave soon.” Pat said.

We patiently waited and watched as the wannabe disappeared into his room.

“All right, well…let’s start over here,” Pat pointed to the distance behind us. “Over there, where we were in group? Well, if you go keep going down the hall, turn right, that’s where all the counselors’ offices are. We don’t need to go down there because you were somewhat already there.”