by Steven Kuhn
“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.
I carefully picked my path, as I scouted to find any patients that were free from the onslaught, when I noticed Sam and Victoria alone at the picnic table beside the cornhole platforms. I dodged and weaved and made a beeline toward Sam and Victoria. I never made eye contact with the enemy and always kept a safe distance to avoid any shrapnel that might find its mark.
“Is it safe to sit down?” I asked.
“As far as we know, we haven’t triggered any booby traps,” Victoria said as she slid over.
I sat down and lit a cigarette. Through my billowed smoke, the friends, mothers, fathers, wives, and children continued to be stern, but seemed also to be caring in their anger. They stood outside the shield erected by the addict, battled its unwarranted advances, and tried to see the individual
behind the stranger that stood before them. They were not the enemy; they were the ones who truly cared, but had been shoved aside for a new friend. A part of me longed to have someone visit, but my shield protected me from feeling too alone.
“I can’t believe how many people are here,” I said.
“Well, if you figure how many patients are here and double or even triple it, it makes for a pretty big crowd.” Sam, bored, flicked a piece of splintered wood from the table. “It would be the most opportune time for someone to escape, if they wanted to.”
“Someone has,” Victoria said.
Sam and I both looked at her.
“And?”
“It was a while ago. One of the heroin addicts couldn’t take it anymore and just walked out the front door. But to her stupidity, she didn’t take into account that there is nothing around here for a good five miles in any direction. When they realized it, she was already gone a few hours. They found her curled up in a ball by the side of the road, only a half mile away from the nearest gas station.”
“What did they do with her?” I asked, enthralled by the story.
“Nothing. The police who picked her up found out she had warrants for her arrest and took her away.”
“She would have been better off here. At least she would have been medicated,” Sam said as we agreed.
Silence took over again as we fidgeted in our seats from boredom.
“Let’s play cornhole or something before lecture,” Sam said.
“All right, but first let me go and get a pop from the vending machine.” I stood and started to walk over to the entrance.
“I’ll go with you,” Victoria added, as Sam sat back down at the table and lit another cigarette.
As we walked down the path, I pulled out my wallet.
“It’s a dollar twenty-five,” Victoria said, as she kept up.
“A dollar twenty-five, when you can buy a two liter at the store for a dollar,” I said disgusted. “This place costs enough money and they still want more.”
“If you want, you can get juice from the cafeteria,” she said, as I held the door open.
“No, I feel like some sugar and caffeine.”
The halls were empty, except for a few families we saw along the way who seemed to be trying desperately to camouflage their existence and blend into the vanilla walls. The halls were not sanitized enough for them; they looked afraid that our disease might spread to them.
“So how do you like your stay so far, Matt?”
“You know, I don’t have anything to compare it to. The first couple of days are a complete haze of booze, pills, shit…and ghosts.”
For a moment, I was lost in my memories too painful to speak. I took a deep breath and came back to the present.
“But I have met a bunch of friendly psychopaths.”
As we entered the cubbyhole, I began to feel different again.
The hum, colors, and lights from the vending machines began to request dances from those who entered. Hypnotized, I extracted my greenback from my cowhide and inserted it into the mouth of the machine. My breath became labored. I forgot the silver trinket, but Victoria obliged and fed the metal. She caressed the selection, fell forward, and left behind a blurred rainbow. As she lifted the plastic barrel, she eased forward and gently kissed me on the lips. Surprised, I did not resist and enjoyed the attention, reluctant to pull back; when I returned and felt normal again I wiped the sweat from my forehead.
“Victoria, we can’t do this. If we get caught, we’ll both be thrown out,” I said.
“Then come over here,” she said, as she pulled me between two vending machines.
As we embraced, our mouths connected as our chests heaved and hands quivered; we willingly accepted the vibration of the vending machine. I divided my attention between Victoria and the hallway, paranoid we might get caught; Victoria slid down to my waist and had my full attention.
As we opened the double doors, I saw Sam still at the picnic table. He lit yet another cigarette and watched family members fish at the pond. Restless, he walked over to one of the platforms, picked up a few of the corn sacks, and lobbed them at the distant platform. Thump, the first one sounded as it laid flat on the platform; swoosh, as the second one flew straight through the hole and never touched the rim. He turned around and noticed Victoria and me as we hurriedly walked through the dry grass.
“What the hell took you guys so long?” Sam said as Victoria walked over to the other platform. “And you didn’t even get me something to drink.”
I said nothing at first and threw a few sacks for practice.
“We’re going to need another player?” I said finally, avoiding eye contact with him.
He seemed puzzled by my demeanor, and looked in the pavilion.
“Hey, Father Tom, come on over and be on my team,” he said as he waved.
With a lit, hand-rolled cigarette in his mouth and his cane for support, Father Tom slowly began to make his way.
“To all patients and visitors, the morning meeting will start in ten minutes. The morning meeting will start in ten minutes,” the intercom blared.
The masses began to maneuver toward the door in one giant exodus as I stared at Victoria through the crowd. I could only imagine what would have happened if we were a few minutes longer. I took a few deep breaths, shrugged it off to good luck, and threw the last corn sacks onto the platform.
“Just our luck. If you guys would have been quicker, we probably could have gotten in a game,” Sam said.
“Hey, I tried to hurry,” I said with a grin.
Eventually, we entered the building where the conversation and people grew and all filed as one toward the auditorium. This was the only time patients sat with one another, due to the mass of people and the shortage of seats. While the itinerary was read off by Dr. Lyedecker for the visitors and patients, I reminisced about the short time Victoria and I had together, and imagined what we might have done, given more time. When the short lecture was complete, the patients who had no visitors went their separate way, as the patients who had visitors hung their heads for the discomfort they knew was to come.
“So, what are you guys gonna do?” Sam asked.
I shrugged my shoulders, “I’ll probably just go upstairs and read a little,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s a lazy day today. I’ll probably do the same thing.” Victoria smiled.
Through the scattered families, we made our way to the elevator. On the ride up, Sam stood in complete silence against the wall, deep in thought. We exited and walked our separate ways, Sam still in thought, and my thoughts still of Victoria.
In our room, Pat frantically straightened his closet and began to check and re-check everything in its proper position, from the towels above the closet to the toothbrush positioned on the shelf below the mirror.
I walked over to my bed, where the sunlight rested peacefully on my comforter. “Pat, you need to calm down.”
“You don’t understand. I have to make sure everything is perfect. This is the first time in a long time that I get to see my children and ex-wife. I have to show them I’m doing well.”
“Then where are they?” I asked as I grabbed the Big Book from my nightstand and sat on my bed.
Pat stopped in mid-stride and thought for a moment.
“Shit,” he said as he ran out of the room.
I shook my head and lay down, and found the page where I left off. Just as I got into the first paragraph, I sensed someone in the doorway.
“What’s up?” Sam asked.
I folded a corner of the page, closed the book, and rested it on the nightstand.
Sam said nothing and slowly slid out the desk chair, like a detective who was about to give his questioning. I grew suspicious; I had never seen Sam act this way before and then I realized he had already put two and two together, as I tried to hide my smile.
“What?”
“Don’t tell me we have to go to group already?” I tried to look puzzled
and stared at Sam.
“I knew it,” Sam slapped his knee. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“You got them roasted, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said as I walked toward the door. I looked down the hall and searched for some type of commotion to relieve me from this inquisition.
“I knew there was something going on between you and Victoria when you came back for the game.”
I closed the door and stood in front of him. “All right, but just keep it between the two of us. I don’t need to get kicked out for this, all right?” I pleaded.
“Hey, no problem, man. Everybody’s been trying for that, but you’re the first one to get it.”
“Then what the hell was all that talk about the squirrel shit and everything?”
“Just talk man, just talk. So what are you going to do now?”
I opened the door. “I don’t know, it just happened and I have to worry more about why I’m here.”
“You got that right,” he said. The situation had become awkward. “Hey, we have a half hour before group, so let’s go catch a smoke, do group, and then go to the gym.” Sam slapped his hands together and walked toward me.
“Gym?” I asked.
Sam put his arm around me as we exited into the hallway.
“Yes, and don’t change the subject…you lucky bastard, I would have never figured you as the one.”
Outside, the weather was still the same, but there were a lot less people who enjoyed the day. Sam and I dug in our pockets for our cigarettes and lit them on the path up to the pavilion. Inside the pavilion, as they smoked their cigarettes and talked, was a mixture of all the cliques that waited for their brethren to return at the end of visitation day. Sam and I found an empty picnic table and sat down out of the shade. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his head.
“Sam, I have to ask you a serious question.”
“Okay.”
I tightened my lips, rubbed my chin, and searched for the correct words.
“Uh, do you or did you, uh, ever feel strange?”