Life of the Party

by Christine Anderson

  I flipped impatiently through my Bible. I wasn’t even sure what I was searching for, some answer that would make all the craziness stop. Riley had suggested I read somewhere closer to the middle. I flipped and flipped and flipped, and then stopped. I read the first chapter my eyes rested on. It was a Psalm. Psalm 107.

  “Oh, thank God - he's so good! His love never runs out. All of you set free by God, tell the world! Tell how he freed you from oppression, then rounded you up from all over the place, from the four winds, from the seven seas. Some of you wandered for years in the desert, looking but not finding a good place to live, half-starved and parched with thirst, staggering and stumbling, on the brink of exhaustion. Then, in your desperate condition, you called out to God. He got you out in the nick of time; he put your feet on a wonderful road that took you straight to a good place to live. So thank God for his marvellous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves. He poured great draughts of water down parched throats; the starved and hungry got plenty to eat.

  Some of you were locked in a dark cell, cruelly confined behind bars, punished for defying God's Word, for turning your back on the High God's counsel - a hard sentence, and your hearts so heavy, and not a soul in sight to help. Then you called out to God in your desperate condition; he got you out in the nick of time. He led you out of your dark, dark cell, broke open the jail and led you out. So thank God for his marvellous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves; he shattered the heavy jailhouse doors, he snapped the prison bars like matchsticks!

  Some of you were sick because you'd lived a bad life, your bodies feeling the effects of your sin; you couldn't stand the sight of food, so miserable you thought you'd be better off dead. Then you called out to God in your desperate condition; he got you out in the nick of time. He spoke the word that healed you, that pulled you back from the brink of death. So thank God for his marvellous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves; Offer thanksgiving sacrifices, tell the world what he's done - sing it out!

  Some of you set sail in big ships; you put to sea to do business in faraway ports. Out at sea you saw God in action, saw his breathtaking ways with the ocean: with a word he called up the wind - an ocean storm, towering waves! You shot high in the sky, then the bottom dropped out; your hearts were stuck in your throats. You were spun like a top, you reeled like a drunk, you didn't know which end was up. Then you called out to God in your desperate condition; he got you out in the nick of time. He quieted the wind down to a whisper, put a muzzle on all the big waves. And you were so glad when the storm died down, and he led you safely back to harbour. So thank God for his marvellous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves. Lift high your praises when the people assemble, shout Hallelujah when the elders meet!

  God turned rivers into wasteland, springs of water into sun baked mud; luscious orchards became alkali flats because of the evil of the people who lived there. Then he changed wasteland into fresh pools of water, arid earth into springs of water, brought in the hungry and settled them there; they moved in - what a great place to live! They sowed the fields, they planted vineyards, they reaped a bountiful harvest. He blessed them and they prospered greatly; their herds of cattle never decreased. But abuse and evil and trouble declined as he heaped scorn on princes and sent them away. He gave the poor a safe place to live, treated their clans like well-cared-for sheep. Good people see this and are glad; bad people are speechless, stopped in their tracks.

  If you are really wise, you'll think this over - it's time you appreciated God's deep love.”

  I read it a few times, my eyes wide as saucers in my face. I was surprised. So much of it spoke to me … like actually spoke to me. “Your heart so heavy; and not a soul to help.” That was exactly how I felt. “You couldn’t stand the sight of food, so miserable you thought you’d be better off dead.”

  Hadn’t I felt that very thing? Hadn’t I actually tried to kill myself? But why didn’t I die? I had taken more than enough heroin to overdose—way more than enough. Yet here I was, living, breathing. Fine. “He spoke the word that healed you, that pulled you back from the brink of death.” Could it be true? Could what Riley said be true? Did God have a plan for me? Did he … love me, despite my horridness? Did he love me enough to save me?

  There was one line in that chapter that had been repeated over and over. “Then you called out to God in your desperate condition; he got you out in the nick of time.”

  Did I believe? Did I believe that God would save me if I asked him to? Could I take that leap, that leap of faith? I had to try. I couldn’t take this for much longer—the heaviness of my heart, the despair in my soul, the wretchedness that permeated my entire being. Just one night of peace, that’s all I wanted. One night where I could shut my eyes and sleep, and know no hurt, no pain, no discontent. I had to try.

  I laid my Bible down on my chest and shut off the flashlight. I felt silly. I had never done this before. I laid there for a minute, silent, staring up into the dark—into the utter blackness. My heart was pounding. After a few, deep breaths, I began.

  “God, please,” I begged silently into the night, “please, if you’re there … help me. I … I need you. Please, if you’re real, show me. Help me to believe. Help me, God. I’m calling to you in a desperate condition, I can’t take much more. Get me out in the nick of time, God … please; please … I beg you … help me ….”

  I’m not sure when the tears started, but I felt them wet and heavy on my cheeks. I don’t know what I expected—some whisper in the dark perhaps, or a hand heavy on my shoulder—but there was nothing, just dark and the quiet surrounding me, unchanging.

  But then, there was something. I don’t know how to describe it … it was so subtle. There weren’t any fireworks exploding within me or anything, it was more like something just … clicked. Like whatever had been missing before was suddenly found. Like the last piece of the puzzle was finally in place. That’s not even it though; it was even more delicate than that. Suddenly, I just knew that God was real. That everything the Bible said was true. That my heart was beating for a purpose, and that purpose was God.

  Peace flooded over me. More peace than I had ever known. I couldn’t explain it. It was better than any high I’d ever had. More potent than heroin, and … cleaner feeling. Like this peace was the right kind of peace. Like a soft, warm blanket it enveloped me. I felt safer than I ever had, more love than I had ever known. All my agony was gone, all my sadness, all my guilt and despair. After a few moments of nothing but amazing light-heartedness, all I could do was utter silent thoughts of deep, sincere thankfulness. And sometime in the midst of thanking God, I fell fast asleep, and stayed that way until morning.

  “He led you out of your dark, dark cell, broke open the jail and led you out. So thank God for his marvellous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves ….”

  Allison had to shake me awake. “Mackenzie!” She called. “You’re going to be late for breakfast.”

  I stretched in my bed, and yawned. I hadn’t slept so wonderfully in ages and ages—I hadn’t felt such peace in my entire life. The moment I opened my eyes I expected it all to come crashing down on me again—the heaviness, the sorrow. And while I did still feel the pain that came from losing Grey … it was more bearable than it had ever been. And the peace … it remained. I couldn’t explain it … it was just there. I smiled at Allison—like actually smiled, I felt so hopeful. All this time my life had felt like the beginning of night; dark, fretful and weary, with no end in sight. Now, I felt the first light of dawn slowly creeping over the horizon of my world, chasing the darkness and the shadows away, holding real hope in its warmth. Like today was the beginning. Like nothing before today even mattered.

  My smile surprised Allison so much that she actually frowned at me. I had broken another unwritten rule between us, smiling upon waking apparently was not allowed, not when in rehab. Part of me wanted to share with her what I had experienced, what I had found in the da
rk reaches of the night. But I knew that Allison wouldn’t appreciate it, and this was all too new to me to have it sullied by someone who didn’t understand. So, as much as the words were nearly bursting out of me, just dying to be told, I bit my tongue. There was only one person I was ready to tell. One person who would really understand.

  I nearly raced to the meeting room that afternoon when it was time. Riley was there, like usual, sitting behind the table and waiting for me. I paused outside the door and just looked at him a moment. His dark hair was still growing out from his buzz cut; it was thicker now, nearly to his ears. He wore a burnt orange long sleeved t-shirt, tight against his broad shoulders; and dark blue jeans that accentuated his newfound muscular physic. His dark eyes were staring down at the coffee cup he was gripping with both hands, as if he were still chilled from the arctic-like weather we’d been having.

  He was the same. He was different. I felt like I really knew him now, now that I understood. I felt more connected to him than I had in a really, really long time. With a smile on my face, I opened the door.

  Riley was nearly as shocked as Allison had been by the sincere expression of happiness upon my face. He looked taken aback; he just stared and stared at me a moment. The look on his face made me want to laugh aloud, but I held back, giggling instead into my hand.

  “I can’t believe I’m laughing, Riley.” I shook my head. “I never thought I’d laugh again.”

  I didn’t have to say it, but just from that sentence, Riley understood. The smile he gave me then was unlike any smile he’d ever given me before. His dark eyes were shining with tears as he came around the table and wrapped me up in a tremendous hug.

  “I’m so happy, Mac.” He spoke into my ear. “You have no idea, how long I’ve … I’ve been praying and praying.” He held me tightly. His arms were so warm, so safe. I pressed my face against his chest and muffled my laughter into his shirt.

  “He’s real, Ry. He’s really real.”

  “I know. I know he is.”

  “I’m so ….” I shook my head. How to describe it? “I feel so … light … so … happy. I can’t believe it.” I looked up at my friend, worriedly. “Is it wrong? Is it wrong to feel this good?”

  “No.” Riley held my arms in his warm, strong hands and answered me sincerely. “No, it’s not wrong. As hard as it may be to believe, you do deserve happiness, Mac.”

  “But … will he understand?” I wondered hopefully.

  “Of course he will.” Riley hugged me tightly against him. “Grey wants you to be happy too.”

  I pressed myself against Riley’s hard chest and shut my eyes, knowing his words to be true. I imagined Grey’s perfect face, his blue eyes shining, his lips smirking as he whispered in my ear.

  “Live. Be happy.”

  I will be happy, Grey, someday.

  But I’ll never stop loving you.

  CHAPTER 66

  I tore into my rehabilitation with such fervour that I took even myself by surprise. I surprised everyone but Riley. He knew once I made up my mind there’d be no stopping me. And he was right. Now, instead of rolling my eyes at the twelve-step program, I deliberately and wholeheartedly went through each one, embracing them as necessary for my healing. I opened up with my personal therapist, allowing him to recognize my utter lack of coping skills—how my answer to stress or hurt or anger was to push it all away, choosing drugs and alcohol instead of actually dealing with my troubles. Together, he took me through healthy coping strategies, showing me how to deal with my problems instead of ignoring them completely. Digging at the root of my issues, he told me how my feelings of inferiority with Marcy were completely unfounded. How we were two totally different people—special and unique and gifted in our own way—and that our parents loved us both, equally and as individuals.

  I was still working on that one.

  But I was truly becoming transformed. And all because of God. Riley was right again. Now that I knew him, I couldn’t fathom having ever lived without him. I still had my bad days; I still had days when I missed Grey so badly it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Sometimes—like a masochist—I’d lie on my bed and just think about him, dredging up all our memories together, remembering the velvet perfection of his voice and the handsomeness of his face until my pillow was soaked with tears. But Jesus was there through it all—helping me along—there for me in every possible way. Lending me his strength so that I never gave up hope. I wanted to get through it all and I wanted to do it right. I wanted to feel the pain, to change as Riley had. I wanted to do it all for him, I wanted to truly live for him. When things got too much, when my craving for heroin was gnawing away at my insides, I’d stop and pray and beg and plead for God to help me. And somehow, it got easier. The craving would pass without agony, without much torment and torture until suddenly, I’d realize it was gone.

  And I slept. At night I slept like a baby, and awoke nearly every morning feeling totally rested. I read my Bible whenever I got a spare minute and wrote in my journal the new revelations I was discovering, each and every day. Riley was a constant help, guiding me, trying to answer my constant flood of questions, eagerly and happily trying to teach me about this amazing God that I had only just discovered. The time seemed to fly by, each and every day faster than the one before it, easier from my newfound strength. With it I felt like I could take on the world.

  Other times I was terrified of that very thing.

  Allison was leaving me. Her three months were up, and I sat on my bed, worriedly watching her pack. She was whistling, her blue eyes gleaming excitedly as she quickly folded her clothes into the suitcase.

  I was concerned for her. I knew exactly what she was going to do the moment she set foot out the doors, and I knew where that decision would lead her. I could almost see her future spiralling away. How long would it take before she was circling the drain again? Before she ended up hurt or sick or … worse? What if she ended up dead?

  I knew there was nothing I could do to make her change her mind.

  But I had to try.

  “You don’t have to do it, you know.” I blurted suddenly. She paused for a moment and stopped whistling, looking up to frown at me.

  “I don’t have to do what?”

  “It.” I sat up and stamped my cigarette out in the ashtray. “Heroin. You don’t have to use again, Allison. You can start your life again, fresh. Sober.”

  “Yeah, I guess I could.” She chuckled. “Except I don’t want to.”

  “You’ve gone ninety days without. Allison, that’s huge. You should be proud of yourself.”

  She rolled her eyes at me.

  “What about your friends and your family … what about them?”

  “What about them?” Allison asked icily, her blue eyes narrowing at me. “They threw me in here so they wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore. That’s fine. I don’t need them. I’ll be just fine on my own.”

  “I think they put you in here because they love you.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about it.” She threw the last of her shirts into the suitcase and angrily zipped up the bag.

  I shrugged. “It just … it seems to me like you’re looking for excuses to start again, and you don’t have to do it. I know you’ve been planning on … it … but you can change—”

  “Shut up, Mackenzie, okay?” Allison shook her head at me. “Just shut up. Man, I liked you a lot better when you didn’t give a damn. Just, don’t get all high and mighty on me. I’m leaving, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  “I know that, trust me. No one can stop you. No one but yourself. But Allison, you can do it. I know you can.”

  “Fuck off.” She wavered.

  But I was unwavering. “I know it’s too late for the motivational speech. All I can do now is ask.” I put my hand on her shoulder, my dark eyes pleading with her. “Please don’t use, Allison. Please, will you just try? I do care about you, and I want you to get better. I want you to stay better.”


  Her blue eyes met mine for a moment, softened by my words. But then I saw the exact moment when they hardened again, when her resolve was strengthened, when her decision was made. She cackled mockingly and pulled her arm from my grasp.

  “Save it, Mac. I’m gone.” She declared, and brushed by me out the door.

  That was the last I ever saw of her.

  CHAPTER 67

  Metallica was blasting through the stereo. Groups of rowdy kids were taking up absolutely every single space available. Some were belting out the words to the song—it drifted towards me, harsh and out of key ….

  I looked idly around the room, taking in the scene—my vision foggy, my glance hazy. The red plastic cup in my hand was heavy, the cigarette in my fingers wreathing my face with smoke. A smile contorted my lips as I walked forward with leaden feet. There was something I had to do, something I’d wanted to do for a long time, and this propelled my steps—stumbling and unbalanced—towards the stairs.

  Suddenly I wasn’t holding my drink, but someone’s hand. I was pulling someone up the stairs with me. The image shifted then, the camera angle changed. I saw the stairs as we took them, slowly. I could hear myself laughing, could feel the giddiness in my stomach. I watched my feet as they reached the landing and stumbled into the nearest bedroom. I heard the silence once the door shut behind me. I turned, and the whole world spun, reeling wildly.