The Drunk Logs (17 page)

I only caught the back of his white hair as he left. I stretched and heard Pat as he started to tussle and turn.

“Who was that?” I asked, as he yawned.

“I don’t know his name, but he’s one of the older people that volunteers in here once in a while,” Pat said, lying in bed.

I opened the closet and grabbed a towel and some underwear.
If I was going to the nurses’ station, than I might as well hit the shower afterwards
, I thought. Grudgingly, with hair that stood on end and my disheveled clothes, I walked past Pat’s bed and over to the mirror.

I poked under my eye, and looked at my face from different angles. “Damn, the swelling really went down a lot,” I said.

“Yeah, I noticed that yesterday, but I forgot to tell you. You’re one of those quick healers,” Pat said as he sat up on the side of the bed and ran his hands through his hair.

I adjusted my eyes, focused in on a few of the aliens who roamed the halls, and tried to shake off the morning dew. Others, prim and proper, were already at the tables as they got their blood pressure checked and took their medication.

I stood behind Danny as I sipped my water and waited for him to finish. As I unraveled my towel, I made sure that I had my underwear, and I felt the presence of patients behind me. I didn’t care to turn around and instead took another sip of water.

“Morning, Matt, please sit down,” Karen said as she extended her hand to the chair.

“Did you come into my room last night?” I asked, as I held out my arm to show my wristband.

She checked the information on her clipboard and proceeded to put the belt on my left arm.

“Why, did you think it was a dream?” She pushed the button on the machine.

“Just double checking,” I said, as the blood pressure machine beeped and Karen checked the screen.

She took off the belt and wrote on her clipboard.

“You’re almost normal, but I still need to give you your medication, until I get the results from your blood test.”

Blood test?
I thought.

She walked over to the medical cabinet on wheels behind her and made my normal concoction of pills. She put them in a cup and set them off to the side of the table. As she reached over to a small plastic tub that sat on the table next to me, she pulled out a rubber belt, syringe, rubbing alcohol, band Aid, and cotton.

“Oh, man.” I sat upright in my chair and watched her every movement.

“What’s wrong, you don’t like needles?” She held the syringe. In my imagination, it was as large as a butcher’s knife.

“Don’t care for ’em. So let’s get this over with.”

I tensed my body, clenched the arm of the chair, and waited to feel the small prick that sent shockwaves throughout my entire body. The rubber belt tightened around my arm like a snake and bit the skin underneath. My forearm became hot; veins pulsated to the beat of my heart as she pressed the alcohol-soaked cotton into the crook of my arm. The pop of the syringe cap echoed through my ears as I stared at the green carpet and waited for the spike to pierce my skin. The cold steel pressed, and faced resistance like a knife forcing its way past the skin of an apple. The pressure increased and then gave way as the needle splashed into the flow of blood, and sucked it backward like a vacuum as the plunger retreated. My body tensed slightly more as I stared at one woven loop in the green carpet. Then, the sensation disappeared. The cotton and Band Aid closed the bleeding hole that was left behind.

“There, that wasn’t so bad,” she said.

“No, not at all,” I said with what I hoped was a brave face.
I must be getting better
, I thought. Without the self-medication of alcohol, the things I hated the most had become more intense.

She put the vial away in the plastic tub and grabbed my medication. With one gulp, I swallowed them all. I clutched my towel, patted the sweat from my forehead, and headed to the showers as the next patient sat down.

As I opened the shower room door, I got a glimpse of Pat as he entered one of the stalls. Frustrated that someone else was inside the room; I grudgingly entered, stripped down, and quickly hopped into the shower. Time was of the essence if I wished to leave before Pat exited, so I quickly lathered my body and my hair. I omitted the shampoo, my arms flailing about as if my body was on fire. As I rinsed off, the water did not come quickly enough, so I began to hop up and down to try to shake the excess lather off. I hurriedly exited the shower, slipped on the tile, and began to flop around like a fish out of water. Pat heard the commotion and poked his head out from the shower curtain.

“What the hell are you doing?” he laughed, as I struggled to grab my towel and clothes.

Frustrated and embarrassed, I wrapped the towel around my waist, grabbed my clothes off the chair, and stormed out of the room. As I ran down the hall, I avoided eye contact with any of the faces that I passed.

I slammed the door, threw my clothes into my closet, and roughly wiped myself off to rid my skin of any germs. Pat entered not too long thereafter, and nonchalantly walked over to his closet.

“Matt, are you all right?” he said as he held back his laughter.

I said nothing at first and buckled my pants, when I realized how idiotic I must have looked and I started to laugh. I closed and locked my closet door as I shyly looked over to Pat.

“No offense, Pat, but I hate going into public showers and when I heard you in there, I figured I could hurry and be out of there before you were finished.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not too keen on staring at another guy naked. I usually just stay in the shower, until I know that everyone is gone.”

Suddenly, Jack Jack appeared at the door. “Hey butt heads, you guys going to breakfast?”

“Yeah,” we said.

“Well hurry up, Sam is holding the elevator for us.”

Jack Jack led the way as we followed close behind. As we entered, Sam held the open door button, when Bobby jumped in at the last minute and shook the entire car.

“Damn it, Bobby, if the elevator crashes down, I’m going to throw you under me to cushion the blow,” Sam said, irritated.

“Shit, you got enough cushion yourself to break your fall,” Bobby laughed.

We rode the elevator down, when the door opened and there stood the military wannabe with his eyes of death. I noticed that Jack Jack grinned devilishly as we exited the elevator.

The elevator doors started to close as Jack Jack saluted him. “Ready to take the stick out of your ass, sir.”

We laughed as we walked down the hallway.

“You better be careful, that son of a bitch is crazy,” Sam said.

“What is he going to do? He’s leaving today,” Jack Jack said. “I heard him earlier talking to his ride on the phone.”

The cafeteria was surprisingly empty and the food line was closed. On the weekend it was continental breakfast, where everyone must fend for themself with the quantity of food given. At the food cart, we loaded up on yogurt, cereal, bread, bagels, butter, and jelly.

I inserted my bread in the toaster, and watched Bobby heave a giant pile of butter on his plate.

“You know that much butter will kill you one day, Bobby.” I stared, amazed at the amount.

“It’s just lubricant, so my arteries operate smoother.”

At the table we tore into our breakfasts and consumed as much bread and cereal as we could fit into our mouths, when Barry Eugene walked into the cafeteria.

“Hey, looky here, it’s Barry Eugene,” Jack Jack yelled.

“Barry Eugene the love machine. Women want to have it, if only if I can smack it,” he mumbled as he limped over to the food cart.

I waited for him to pass to see if his pants were clean. “I can’t believe he’s still here. He doesn’t do anything except try and escape.”

Jack Jack saw the opportunity in the situation. “Hey, Barry Eugene, you going home today?”

“Going home today, they said,” said Barry Eugene as he grabbed a handful of granola and poured it on his plate.

We were all captivated by what he might do next and at the same time petrified that he would come and sit by us. To our surprise, he walked past and out of the cafeteria.

“I swear that guy does whatever he feels like. I don’t think he has any understanding of where he is,” Bobby said, mumbling through a mouth full of bagel.

Just then, Victoria entered the cafeteria and walked over to our table.

“Hello, fellow addicts,” she said as she slid a chair next to me. “Well, it looks like we’re cleaning house today. Six or seven, to be exact. Some today and some in the next couple of days.”

“Who’s leaving today?” Bobby asked as he shoved more food into his mouth.

“Shorty, Shawn, and Mike…”

“Which Mike?” Jack Jack asked.

“You know Mike…the military wannabe, and two or three women, I think,” she said as she grabbed a piece of my toast.

“They’re lucky they get out of visitation day,” Sam said as he finished his carton of milk.

We continued to finish our breakfast and looked around to see who still remained. I could see the pain on my friends’ faces and wondered if they thought about how much time they still had to give.

“What is visitation day?” I said, and it appeared I interrupted their daydreaming.

“It’s horrible,” Jack Jack said. “It’s when you are allowed to have family members or significant individuals see your surroundings, the staff, the other patients, and your progress.”

“They also have you sit in a group of other patients and their families, where they get to yell at you for the things you’ve done wrong to them. It’s part of the program that is supposed to show you the severity of what your addiction has done to you and to the people around you. Kind of like tough love,” Sam said as he picked up his Styrofoam tray and threw it away.

Scared, Jack Jack stared into the distance, and looked like he contemplated what awaited him. “It sucks, but I guess it does help some people.”

Bobby slurped the remainder of milk from his bowl. “And they are here all day.”

“Then what about the patients who don’t have anyone?” I asked.

“It’s not so bad. The day is more relaxed with longer breaks and we mostly just watch movies in lecture,” Victoria said as she stared into my eyes provocatively. “And since most of the patients are depressed, they have karaoke at night in the cafeteria to cheer us up.”

“You have anybody visiting you, Matt?” Sam asked.

“No, burned way too many bridges and cut down the forest for anyone to come.”

“Good, I’ll have somebody to talk to.” He smiled.

“Hey, I don’t have anyone coming either, and I just love both of your stimulating conversations,” Victoria said suggestively.

Pat noticed the time and jerked upward. “Shit, my family is about to show up. I gotta go to my room and get ready.” He grabbed his tray and hurried toward the door.

After the rest of us cleaned the table, we walked outside to have a cigarette. But just as we exited the building, the intercom blared. I cringed.

“Matt H., report to the nurses’ station. Matt H., report to the nurses’ station.”

“Keep coming back,” Jack Jack said to my bewilderment.

Before I got to the nurses’ station, I noticed Barry Eugene slowly limping with a suitcase.

“Hey, Barry Eugene, I see you have a new suitcase. Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m going home, but I don’t know why my wife brought me clothes if she knows I’m leaving,” he mumbled. “Yeah, just thought I’d get a full meal before I take the long ride home. I’m going home today.”

I slowed my steps and walked with him in what I knew was another vain attempt at going home.

“So, you finally got through to your wife and she’s going to come get you?” I played along.

“No. She talked to the nurses, who are releasing me because I have been here too long. You think they’ll stop at the corner store on the way back for some beer?” he asked as he set his suitcase down in front of the nurses’ station.

“I’m not sure, Barry Eugene. Maybe, if you ask them nicely.”

I started to feel sorry for the old man, but there was nothing I could do for him. Inevitably, he will continue to do the things he has always done and death will be his only destination.

“Barry Eugene to go home!” he yelled as he banged on the desk.

I stood across from the half-door and waited to watch him go through the normal routine of rejection. But to my surprise, he was handed release papers and was escorted by another nurse down the hall, and out the side entrance.
Apparently, if you complain enough you will get out of here
, I thought.

“Next,” Molly said with a smile.

As I extended my wristband toward the door, I looked down the hall to make sure Barry Eugene had really left.

“He’s going home, but to a nursing home,” Molly said.

Not surprised, I said nothing. She opened the door and wrote on her clipboard, as I waited in my usual chair.

She closed the door, walked over, and slid the belt around my arm. “I knew he would be going soon. We just couldn’t take care of him the way a nursing home would. So, his wife agreed that that is where he belongs and gave us permission to ship him. So, what are you going to do?”

I sat still as she pushed the start button and the belt became tighter. I realized that there was nothing more anyone could do, and accepted the fact that Barry Eugene would just fade away.

The machine beeped and the air released from the belt. She slid it off and stared at the screen. After she clicked her pen and rested the belt on the desk, she looked at me as if she was searching for the correct words.

“Your wishful day has come with the results from your blood work,” she said and paused.

“Well,” I said, dying to hear.

“Everything, at this point, is back to normal.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

She smiled. “But, we will be checking on you, just not everyday.”

“Thank you so much,” I said.

I sprinted out the door and down the hall, frightened that she might call me back.

I stopped as I opened the doors. It appeared that the circus had come to town on this hot, sunny day. I was amazed at how many people now occupied the grounds, where family and friends alike walked through the fields and around the pond, sat at the picnic tables, or smoked cigarettes in the pavilion. Many of the guests seemed to be scolding loved ones who lowered their heads, perhaps with their minds racing as they sought any excuse or chance for escape.