The Drunk Logs

by Steven Kuhn

  “Don’t let it bother you, Jack Jack. He only does it to get a rise out of you,” Sam said.

  “I understand why he does it to me, but he doesn’t have to include you guys in the equation.”

  “We’re just different vegetables in the same pot,” Sam said as he stared at Dr. Lyedecker. “Guilty by association.”

  Jack Jack leaned forward and looked down the row. “Well, what about you, Father Tom? Christ, you’re older than him, he should be showing you respect.”

  Father Tom sat up as though he had just awoken. “Well, it is my belief that sometimes no matter how hard you try to teach someone, they will resort to their old ways,” he said in his quiet voice.

  We were taken aback. Did he refer to one of us or to Dr. Lyedecker?

  Lyedecker stood firm at the podium, his bold voice echoed throughout the auditorium. “Today, I would like to introduce a dear friend of mine, whom I have known through the bad times and the good. An inspiration, if you will, to me, to others, and hopefully to you. Please welcome Cathy M.”

  Chapter 9

  I lay on my bed, with legs crossed and hands rested on my chest, and stared at the ceiling. My breath was deep and long as I practiced my meditation. I tried to block out the noise from the hall, and rewound the speech I heard only a few moments before.

  The smell of popcorn filled the air as Pat walked into the room, sat at the desk, and opened a bottle of pop.

  “What’s up? You going to watch the game? It’s about to start and the room is starting to fill up.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I said, disheveled.

  He took a sip of pop, and looked long and hard at me. “What’s wrong, did the woman’s speech get to you?”

  “Yeah, it’s messed up. I thought I lost a lot. But man, what that woman went through.” I sat up in bed. “Everything she had is gone, husband, kids, house, job, and then she winds up in a crack house doing tricks, where she gets a disease, only to figure then…”

  Pat took another sip of pop as I walked to the window, and noticed a dumpster outside being hoisted up by a garbage truck.

  “You know, some people figure it out later than others. To me, it looks like you might be one of the lucky ones and are starting to figure it out already. Hell, look at Jack Jack and how many times he’s been back here. He should just change his home address to this place,” said Pat as he took another sip of pop. “Look, you can’t forget your past, but you can’t dwell on it either. You move forward and try to rebuild those bridges you’ve burned. Every day, from this point on, is your birthday. It’s a new day…because isn’t it a great day to be sober?” He grinned.

  We both laughed, ready to enjoy the rest of the evening with people just like us.

  In the distant hallway, a large commotion began with screams and the stomp of what sounded like an elephant. We ran toward the door, and saw Jack Jack and Bobby being chased by Big Toledo, who was soaked with water. All three ran into the kitchenette, and then to the TV room, where the commotion pursued as Pat and I gave chase to see what all the excitement was about.

  We opened the entertainment room doors and saw Jack Jack straddled onto Big Toledo’s back, who had Bobby in a head lock. They spun around the room as the patients scattered to avoid contact, and cheered on Big Toledo. We followed a few minutes of this spectacle, and then exhaustion set in as they tumbled to the sofa, where the brave patients jumped in, separated them, and stood in the middle to avoid any further contact.

  “I’m going to get both of you for this,” Big Toledo breathed heavily.

  “Hey, you told us to wake you up for the game!” Jack Jack yelled back, obviously exhausted.

  “Like this?” Big Toledo pulled on his wet clothes.

  “C’mon, it was only a joke. It’s water, for Christ’s sake,” Jack Jack said, as he tried to catch his breath.

  “Your time will come. Both of you,” said Big Toledo as he stormed out of the room.

  While the chatter and laughter circled the room, the patients rounded up whatever seats were available and prepared for the start of the game. Bobby gasped for breath and walked over to Jack Jack as they fell on the sofa.

  “Man, I didn’t think that the both of us were going to take him,” Bobby said, as he leaned back.

  “Next time we’re going to need three of us,” Jack Jack laughed.

  The elevator door rang and out walked Carl. He scanned the hallway for any disturbance, but only noticed the patients who sat at the tables and walked around the halls. He walked over to Pat and me and looked into the entertainment room.

  “What the hell’s going on up here? It sounds like a lot of banging coming through the ceiling on this floor.”

  “Nothing. Just a few guys running in the hall,” I said.

  “Yeah, just getting ready for the game. That’s all,” Pat added.

  Suddenly, screams came from down the hall as Carl, Pat, and I turned around. Incoherent ramblings came from Gary’s room, the hippie who resembled Jesus. Patients stopped to see what the commotion was all about.

  “This is going to be a fun first night,” I said as we sprinted down the hall.

  We planted ourselves by the group of patients who looked in, as Carl took the lead at the entrance. Inside, Gary was throwing his belongings into his duffle bag that lay on his bed, and rambled as he grew more agitated.

  Gary was exactly as Jack Jack explained—in one word, Jesus. He was a small, white man with long brown hair and a beard. He had on a gray sweat suit and plastic sandals.

  Carl assessed the situation and refused to enter the room. He decided to talk to Gary from the hallway.

  “Gary…Gary,” Carl said with a calm, non-threatening voice.

  “Oh. Hello, Carl,” Gary said in a pleasant voice. “How may I help you?”

  “Is there something you would like to talk about?”

  “Oh, no, just packing my things. Getting ready to leave tomorrow,” he said as he walked toward the door. “So what’s going on with everyone? Did something happen?”

  He leaned out into the hall and looked around. All the while, the group hid behind Carl and stared. He snapped his head back, as the group flinched, nervous as to what he might do.

  “Well, you’re yelling and throwing your clothes in your bag,” Carl said.

  Everyone, even Carl, took a step back as Gary proceeded to step out into the hallway.

  “I’m not yelling, just talking to myself. I’m packing my things because I’m leaving here tomorrow. I feel that all of my requests have gone unheard. Therefore, since I am not being taken care of properly, I will be going home,” he said as his voice grew more agitated.

  “What type of problems are you having, Gary?” Carl asked.

  “For one thing, I have asked repeatedly to be moved, because of my roommate’s snoring and continued crapping of his pants, which is a health violation. Furthermore, I have not been given the correct pain medication for my hernia operation.”

  Gary took a few more steps into the hallway as the entire group moved back as one.

  “Well, I’m sure if we discuss it and we calm down, we can find a happy solution,” Carl said.

  “You ever have a hernia operation? Well, I had mine four years ago and I’m still in pain.” Gary proceeded to pull down the front of his pants. “See these scars here? Well, they run down past my balls and all the way over to the next side. It’s not a pretty sight, and when I sit down, it feels like my balls are resting on a scouring pad. Did you ever rest your balls on a scouring pad?”

  At that, we had all had enough and proceeded down the hall, leaving Carl alone with Gary. I tried to erase the image that has just been planted in my mind.

  Pat and I entered the kitchenette, which was as busy as five o’clock rush hour, and tried to make a snack. We surrendered and entered the entertainment room, which was abuzz with excitement from the hockey playoffs. We noticed that there was an empty spot on the sofa next to Bobby and Jack Jack, and we both clamored over and sat down.
We fought for every inch of confined space, neither of us relinquishing a bit of it.

  “Okay. This is gay with all of us sitting this close together,” Jack Jack said, as he pushed against Bobby and me. “Somebody is going to have to move.”

  But no one budged an inch as we giggled like schoolgirls.

  “Fine. I’ll move,” Jack Jack said, irritated.

  As he sat in one of the black plastic office chairs next to the piano, Big Toledo walked into the room with Danny close behind him. The room became eerily quiet as he spotted Jack Jack and walked toward him. Jack Jack looked at us for assistance, and prepared himself for the worst. But to his surprise, Big Toledo extended his hand.

  “No hard feelings, Jack Jack,” Big Toledo said.

  Jack Jack looked at us again and cautiously extended his hand toward Big Toledo. “No hard feelings.”

  “I’m still going to get you and Bobby back,” he said as he pulled him close.

  Jack Jack smiled. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  They both sat down and the room became abuzz again, with almost everyone’s eyes affixed to the television.

  The rest of the evening was old-fashioned male bonding filled with laughter, boisterousness, and camaraderie; including cheers, when their team did well, and jeers when their team did not. It reminded me of my college fraternity days and the fun times I had, when the nights turned into days and the friendships were supposed to last forever. But those times were long gone, and the friendships were only mirages. The reality had been set before me and my destiny was mine to choose.

  It was the middle of the night when I felt someone raise my right arm and slide the blood pressure belt on. My eyes opened slowly as I battled with the light that crept in from the hallway. Gradually, I forced my eyes open as Karen began to come into focus, and pushed the start button on the machine.

  “Sorry Matt, I have to check your blood pressure,” she whispered, as she watched Pat, hoping not to wake him. “This will only take a second, and then you can go back to sleep.”

  The machine beeped and the air escaped from the belt.

  “You still need to take your medication,” she said as she handed me a cup.

  I lifted my head and swallowed the medication; never did I give any thought to what was inside.

  “Go back to sleep. I’ll check on you in the morning,” she whispered as she grabbed the machine and quietly exited the room.

  I lowered my head, closed my eyes, and wondered if it had been just a dream.

  Chapter 10

  The door opened and an elderly man walked into the room, with clipboard in hand. “Good morning, gentlemen. Pat L. and Matt H. need to report to the nurse. The nurses will be seeing patients today on the second floor by the tables across from the elevator. Have a good day, gentleman.”

  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 rea
lized 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.