The Drunk Logs (22 page)

“Come in and sit down,” he ordered in a monotone.

Two plush yellow leather chairs seated in front of a massive walnut desk awaited us. Closing the door, Dr. Lyedecker hurriedly walked over to his black leather chair that sat higher than us. This was an indication of authority. A useless bit of information I remembered about a documentary on the Roman Empire, from the history channel.

The office was symmetrical in nature and nothing was at an angle. His position in the office was an area of power with large walnut bookcases on either side of him that extended to the ceiling. They contained texts which he had either read or authored, and were illuminated from the large, stained glass window behind him, which contained a view of the forest. Its calm colors battled the darkness in which he sat at the helm. And the articles that sat on his desk were purposely-positioned awards and degrees that had to be acknowledged first before one looked at its master.

He sat erect in his perch, stroked his gold pen, and appeared tired of the two that sat before him; his eyes were heavy. He yawned and waited to see if either of us would speak, perhaps in hopes that his ruse would elicit any guilt we might have had concerning the incident. But we sat quiet, almost relaxed, as he grew irritated.

“Do either of you have anything to add to the situation that occurred on the first floor today?”

Without hesitation, Jack Jack spoke. “Nope, it happened exactly the way good old Larry said.”

His eyes widened as he looked over to me, where I vehemently agreed with Jack Jack.

“Well, my sources indicate that you have something to do with the individual that proceeded to cause mayhem on the first floor.”

Dr. Lyedecker and Jack Jack’s eyes locked as they waited for the other to flinch. But Dr. Lyedecker had the upper hand. He knew Jack Jack and his ego.

Jack Jack began to grin, to the enjoyment of Dr. Lyedecker, who eased back into his chair. But before he became complacent, I started to speak.

“Well, right before the incident happened, Jack Jack reminded me that I needed my Big Book for lecture, which I mistakenly left in my room. Accompanying each other, we first stopped to get his medication, which he only received once today. Considering most of the nurses were preoccupied with other patients, we waited to be taken care of. We then proceeded to the second floor, not before noticing said individual screaming in his room, unsupervised. When we came back down from the second floor, I noticed the individual acting strangely in the hallway, but couldn’t find any security personnel to warn of the situation. Immediately, the individual was grabbing the fire extinguisher and spraying it around the hallway. That’s when Jack pulled me to get help from the lecture hall, but for some reason I couldn’t move. Low and behold, Carl came running down the hall and into the cloud of dust, where I would imagine he apprehended the individual. But then the fire alarm went off and we saw all the patients exiting the building. So we followed.”

Dr. Lyedecker and Jack Jack sat dumbfounded. But to Dr. Lyedecker’s credit, he followed with supposed incriminating evidence and the threat of a full board investigation.

“If that is the truth, then I’m sure there will be corroborating testimony from Carl and the nurses, concerning exactly what occurred,” I said.

“Oh, don’t worry, all the t’s will be crossed and the i’s will be dotted,” Dr. Lyedecker said, agitated.

“That will be fine with me.”

I did not blink and waited patiently, with the illusion of not a care in the world. Jack Jack, on the other hand, wished to speak, but couldn’t find the cleanest word out of the garbage heap he called a vocabulary.

“All right, you two may leave and can go back to your rooms,” Dr. Lyedecker said, as he lowered his head and began to type on his computer.

Jack Jack and I remained silent until we entered my room, where Jack Jack slammed the door.

“What the hell did you just do?” He walked back and forth, flailing his arms. “I was more than willing to take whatever blame he decided to come up with. He isn’t going to do anything with me. He’s stuck with me and he knows it.”

I calmly sat on the edge of my bed as Pat walked out of the bathroom; cautiously, he sat on the chair by the desk.

“You done, Jack Jack?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“You know you shouldn’t be allowed to have all the fun. Why? Because it feels good,” I said as I smiled. “If you would have paid attention, all I did was rearrange the story a little and put most of the blame on him. Sure, he can make his employees say whatever he wants them to. But in the long run, when they are cornered and have the opportunity to complain at how overworked and understaffed they are, they will jump at it the first chance they get. So, now it becomes a case of “he said, she said.” And when I emphasized the point that his staff was nowhere to be found, it puts the blame on him. He’s probably going over it in his head as we speak.”

Slowly, but surely, it seemed to make sense to him.

“He was bluffing.” I sat confident.

“And how do you know that?” Jack Jack’s voice had become calmer.

“Because, when he started to type on his computer, the reflection of the screen in the window behind him was blank.”

With a smile wider and laugh louder than Sam, Jack Jack took a step forward, as Pat, who sensed trouble, leaped and stopped him.

“It’s brilliant, I never thought of doing it that way,” he said as Pat held him back by his shoulders.

I smiled back, “It’s easier to let someone else beat themselves up. You don’t waste any energy.”

As the dim light from the lamp illuminated half of his body, Pat eased his way back down into his chair. “I still don't know what the hell is going on?”

We reached down and grabbed Pat by the arms. “C’mon, the hockey game is about to start. Let’s grab the rest of the guys and we’ll tell you everything that happened,” I said.

“So, Matt, where did you learn to play poker like that?” Jack Jack asked.

“I used to negotiate union contracts.”

Huddled together in the small kitchenette, Jack Jack told the tale of the evil Dr. Lyedecker and the two mighty peasants, and embellished the story as he saw fit, which depended on the amount of laughter. To celebrate, they gorged themselves on Bobby’s snack and proceeded to the entertainment room, where Jack Jack alone was given the throne of the sofa.

I had felt a kinship with Jack Jack, even if it was one-sided. It was hard for me to express any feelings, because I had never done so in the past. The warmth of this brotherly bond and unity I felt toward him made the cracks in my shell multiply and grow larger. I savored this feeling of not being so alone.

It would happen maybe once in a man’s life that the world became his own, but it was up to the man to decipher when. He will come to that conclusion when, at that particular moment in his life, it could get no better. And the memories of those who had listened were the only things that kept him alive. I smiled and let him have his time. The alpha male had been crowned.

Chapter 12

I opened my eyes as the morning sun punched me awake and forced me to roll over. “My God, what time is it?” I mumbled, as I tried to focus onto the clock above the door.

It was 9:30 and there hadn’t been a wakeup call—only Pat, who snored under the purple comforter in the bed next to mine.

I smacked my lips together and stretched, as the blood tried to circulate in my tired body. I gradually tried to focus on the day ahead and contemplated what I was going to do next.

“I’ll just grub it today,” I whispered and pushed myself out of bed.

I opened my closet and grabbed whatever I noticed first—a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt was my ensemble for that day. Over by the mirror, I started to brush my teeth, when I noticed in the reflection that Pat was still sound asleep. I spat into the sink and noticed that I hadn’t even dared to look at my face in quite some time. I looked and saw that I was almost normal. Complacent, I accepted that at this moment I was here in my life and decided to take each day as it may. With a deep breath, I looked up at my tangled, Medusa-like hair and hid it under a cap.

Dressed head to toe, I gently walked over to Pat and quietly tried to wake him.

“Pat…Pat?” I whispered as I shook his shoulder.

Nothing. I shook harder.

“Pat…Pat?”

“What?” he shouted as he jostled in bed.

“It’s already ten o’clock and I didn’t know if you needed to be awake?”

“No. Our first lecture isn’t until twelve.”

He wrapped himself in his comforter and fell back asleep.

The halls were unusually quiet this morning as I headed into the kitchenette, where Big Toledo stood, nodding off as he waited for the coffee maker to brew.

“What’s up, Big Toe?” I said as I opened the cupboard.

Frightened, Big Toledo jerked his hand and almost knocked over the coffee pot. “Jesus, Matt,” he said as he forced his eyes open, and focused in on where he was.

I forced Big Toledo to the side and filled my cup with coffee. “Hey, maybe instead of trying to sleep standing up, try lying down.”

He left the kitchenette still half awake and wobbled into the hallway, while I poured sugar into my cup of coffee. Steam rose as I stirred and walked toward the elevator. I patted my pockets for cigarettes and pushed the elevator button. While I saved the coffee for my cigarette, I waited excitedly, for there was nothing like the taste of it early in the morning; the bell rang and the door opened, only a few steps more.

My nipples became hard and goose bumps covered my skin as I walked outside into the blanket of air. I forgot the treat, and sipped on my coffee for warmth, as I hurriedly walked up the path to the Pavilion.

It was empty, except for one lone individual who sat on top of the far picnic table that overlooked the pond. I craved silence that morning and sat at the opposite end as I set my cup on the picnic table. I lit my cigarette and waited for the burn in my throat, soon to be soothed by the hot cup of coffee.

The view of the outside grounds was beautiful in the morning, from the steam rose off the hot pavement from the rain the night before to the water that dripped from the petals of the flowers that surrounded the tennis courts. Hushed was the wind as the sun pushed the clouds aside and brightened the colors of everything that grew, from the soil to the notes of the songbirds that flew on by. The wood pavilion crackled and popped as it grew old, as the warmth and cold battled to hold ground in its body. It spent its days numbered as it stared at the distant forest and remembered its idled youth.

I sat quietly and enjoyed the morning alone, as I sipped my coffee and puffed my cigarette; the serenity covered me. I watched the water fly up from the fountain in the middle of the pond and smack back down again behind a figure that started to look awfully familiar. On further examination, I realized that it was Jack Jack, so I grabbed my coffee and walked over to say good morning.

“Hey, Jackie Jack, how are you doing today?” I said as I patted him on the back and sat down next to him.

To my surprise, he turned away and wiped his eyes.

“All right,” he said as he choked.

Stunned and uncomfortable, I said nothing for the moment and waited for him to speak. He gathered his composure and turned toward me with red, watery eyes, a face I had never imagined I would see from a spirit such as him.

“You all right?” I said, as I floated my eyes around him and never looked directly at his face.

“No, I just don’t know what to do anymore,” he said as he continued to dry his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s over for me…my wife and girlfriend left and my father don’t want to help me anymore. Hell, I’ve been in these places so many times, I wouldn’t take myself back.”

He took a deep breath and spat in the grass.

“Nothing I do will make it work. I’ve tried to do the program, do what is expected of me, but something keeps calling me back. So, I’ll just bide my time and make the best of it, you know. Go out the way they expect me to.”

He dried his eyes and wiped his nose. Calm set over his face.

“Maybe I can help someone by becoming one of those test studies on what you shouldn’t do,” he said as he nervously laughed.

For a short time, we listened to the fountain splatter and watched the bubbles travel to the shore. As the sun became more vibrant and the earth more alive, the cool breeze that had kissed our faces slowly died. He patted his chest pocket where his cigarettes lay, lumbered off the picnic table, and put his hands in his pocket. With a grin and a look of acceptance, he sifted through the grassy field toward the building and never looked back.

I had never expected such a moment from an individual I so admired for his carefree spirit. As I looked back, the only things that remained were the footprints left in the morning mist. I wanted to believe that Jack Jack was not the individual I had just witnessed, as I took another sip from my coffee and lit another cigarette. But as the cigarette burned and the coffee became cold, my thoughts began to flutter. For Jack Jack’s and my sake, I’d keep an eye on him, I reasoned. I had only time.

The events of the day had not been much to mention, just the same old stale routine that we followed, from the daily schedule of meals, lectures, and breaks, only to be interrupted by the occasional visit to the nurses’ station. But, regardless of the day, I kept to my routine and beliefs to gain strength and knowledge from my stay. The conversation with Jack Jack would not be forgotten, as I had made a point to remember it in great detail. And every moment there was time, I had checked on Jack Jack from a distance, and never mentioned anything to my friends, in hope that it would just go away.

Lecture ended early as I headed to my room to relax before the night of yet another hockey playoff game and all the craziness that it entailed. As I lay in bed and rested my eyes, I felt at ease as I stared into the static filled screen of my imagination, when the emptiness of the room suddenly felt cramped. When I opened my eyes, there stood the illustrious group of vagabonds I had inherited upon my arrival. They quietly stood around my bed and looked as though they were there for the viewing of my burial. Uncomfortable and nervous, to say the least, I waited to hear the bad news that was so obviously etched into their faces.