He tried to catch his breath. "You know, I never connected with anybody in AA like I connected with you and Stu. Like, the people there don't know what we had. Part of me is wherever Stu's at. I swear to you I could feel when it happened. He's our brother, and it feels like..."
"It's okay, man." I grabbed his hand.
His tears came faster. "When am I supposed to start living? What do I got to do to get married and have a house and kids? What the fuck do I have to do?"
"Were you ever as happy as when we were playing?" I should've stopped. "Life's too short to spend it doing something you hate. So what if you get a little hung-over every now and then? We've calmed down a lot. And I miss you. And I just want to hang out and tell you all the crazy stuff that's been happening to me. Like, I think I found my purpose, and if you believe getting sober is your purpose I'm there, whatever you need I'm there. But you just got to be happy. Money doesn't matter, things don't matter. You have to ask yourself what's going to make you happy?"
He pulled his hand away. "Don't do this to me." He pointed at me. "Last time I volunteered. Now my sobriety is court-ordered. Now I don't have a choice and I don't need you putting stuff into my head. This hospital is going to be my home for the next twenty-eight days."
"I'm sorry, man. I really am. And I won't ever do anything to disrespect you again."
Pauly turned his head away as a man knocked on the door. He said, "Hey, buddy. If you want to give us a few minutes I'll get Paul ready to go downstairs."
The nurse had huge arms and a Kenny Rogers beard. He helped Pauly to the bathroom. I just kind of stared at my feet for a few minutes. When the nurse wheeled him out he asked, "Do you know where you're taking him? Elevator to first floor, make a left and look for Addiction Services. It's just past the chapel. Bring him right up after, okay? Tomorrow he gets transferred to Inpatient Treatment. Visitation will be restricted. You'll be able to visit for an hour or so after the meeting tonight, but when he goes over to Inpatient, visiting hours change."
I processed everything the nurse said, but all that I could get out was, "Addiction Services."
As I started Pauly down the hall he asked, "That the girl from last week?"
"No. The girl from last week went Courtney Love on me. I was her white trash slum fuck." I stopped Pauly right in front of the elevator doors and hit the down arrow.
Pauly chuffed, but that was about it.
The ride down and the search for Addiction Services felt like a movie scene. Two hours ago I'd been in the car. Two hours before that I ate dinner with Jamie and Katy and her mom. When we finally found the room I asked Pauly where he wanted to sit and if he wanted me to stay. He said anywhere and it didn't matter.
But I didn't want to leave Pauly. I went to the bathroom across the hall and washed up. When I came back I poured me and Pauly each a cup of bad AA coffee and got nestled into a corner. There were a few empty chairs in front of me. I couldn't tell if physically distancing myself from the group had the effect of making me more or less anonymous.
After my stint in rehab I went to a few meetings a week when I could. But everybody was older than me. Their experiences of losing jobs and family members because of drinking was something I couldn't relate to, having been just a kid who got in some big trouble. Nobody ever invited me out for coffee after. Nobody ever called to check up on me. The whole experience left me feeling very lonely. Probably had a lot to do with the way I felt being here with Pauly right now.
The secretary spoke. An old guy, wiry with a bushy beard and a grease-stained railroad engineer's cap said, "Good evening fellas, welcome to the regular meeting of the Keep on the Sunnyside Group of Alcoholics Anonymous. My name is George, and I am an alcoholic." He emphasized the 'I' by pointing at himself.
Everybody said 'Hi, George' but me.
The Serenity Prayer, the Twelve Steps. Slogans, prayers and routines, nothing changed. Except for the lack of smoke. Afraid of violating anybody's anonymity, I threw my coffee down and went out the side door when they pulled out the Big Book and started reading "How It Works."
The time went by real fast. I stood by the door, nodding at doctors and nurses. Sometimes averting my eyes if the same person came by more than once. At about 7:50 I heard applause, and knew Pauly picked up his chip for twenty-four hours sober. I wondered if I should've been in there for that.
I listened for the Lord's Prayer, and when I heard the group chant, "Keep coming back! It works if you work it," I snuck back in. Pauly looked real small in the wheelchair in his hospital robe. He had people giving him pats on the shoulder, shaking his good hand. He grabbed his right wheel with his good hand and spun, looking for me.
I took a nervous stroll across the room and said, "I can hang out if you're not ready to go up yet."
"No, I'm ready."
I rolled him toward the door, half nodding at some of the people standing closest to us. A clink make me stop. Pauly's twenty-four hour chip rolled toward the coffee table. I took a step, stopping it from rolling under the table with my foot. When I handed it to him he grabbed my arm and pulled me down to get close to my ear.
"Remember how I said I saw your dad at an AA meeting?"
I nodded.
"See that tweeker with all the tattoos in the quilted flannel shirt?"
I looked, saw the guy Pauly meant, and nodded again. He kept picking at some scabs on his face and looked more jittery than a cat on a Crisco-covered marble floor.
"That's him. And I'm pretty sure he is your dad."
But I couldn't look anymore, not when there was a chance I could see myself, a chance that Pauly could be right. As soon as I saw his eyes I knew.
And when the only feelings I could muster were pity and disgust, I couldn't decide whether I'd won a twenty-seven year battle, or lost.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The cold tile made my toes curl. I sat on the edge of the tub because I knew if I stood up I'd be sick again. My head ached like it'd been beaten with a skillet. I put some toothpaste on my finger and spread it over my tongue and teeth.
I didn't remember how the hell I ended up here. Dani called a bunch of times while I waited for Pauly in the hall during the AA meeting. Then I wheeled him back up to his room, and I started telling him all about Katy and the mountains. We had a real good talk going. Probably the first real talk we had in two or three weeks. Maybe a month even. I told him about the song and the devil, how it'd been fucking with me and all that.
My phone rang and I answered without thinking about it. I remembered telling Dani I was at Ruby with Pauly and didn't have time to talk. We hung up. Then about forty minutes later on my way through the lobby to catch the PRT, I saw her waiting. She said she'd give me a ride, which she did. But I didn't end up at home.
I didn't sleep with her. At least, I'm pretty sure I didn't. When I got sick in the middle of the night I woke up on the couch. On the counter sat an empty bottle of bourbon, the one we'd started last time. And a bottle of absinthe. Thank God it was still half-full. The absinthe did this to me. Bourbon usually made me feel better.
All night long I dreamt the same dream over and over. I was standing right in front of Stu's kit, and he pounded the skins and laughed. I tried to warn him, just like John Lennon said to. But he couldn't hear me. All night long, trying to tell Stu not to go.
I needed to get the fuck out of here.
All through the night I thought about Katy whenever I couldn't fall back to sleep. It was summer and I was back up in the mountains. The fields and hills were crazy green, like an old photo hand-tinted Mountain Dew green. Or Jolly Rancher green. It was hyper-emerald, a velvety, deep green that absorbed light almost like night does. Blackberry blossoms fell like snow over the old stone walls she'd showed me when we walked back from her pap's house. We were on a blanket right next to the wall, but the wildflowers were so high nobody could ever know we were there. She had on a little old-fashioned sun dress, with tiny buttons all the way down the front. Her skin felt soft and had gro
wn tan from afternoons in the sun. My guitar and her fiddle were on the blanket with us. Thinking about her made me happy.
The living room was still very dark. Only a tiny sliver of outside light remained once I closed the bathroom door. Still woozy, I felt for a different shirt in my bag. I'd been recycling clothes for two days now. With my foot I tapped out a silent Morse Code on the floor. My shoes. Find my shoes.
My head spun from the booze, and whenever I bent over I felt nauseous. I heard Dani in the bedroom. I jammed my shoe on, figuring I could tie it downstairs. Or never. As long as I got going. My hands and feet felt like they were made out of swamp ash. I fumbled with the cinch on my bag and grabbed my guitar case. I threw my coat over the crook of my arm. Light flooded the room. I turned around, lifting my hand to shield my eyes.
"Where are you going?" she asked. Her sleepy voice grew cold and clear.
A lie came faster than I expected. "I know you have to work. I didn't want to disturb you. But call me tonight."
"Come back, come back," she pleaded. "I cleared my appointment book to have the whole day with you. We can talk and take it slow." She glided across the floor so fast I barely had time to take a step back.
"Well, I have a lesson at two, so... But Mick wants me to come in early to help him with inventory, so I have to go in early."
"You should have told me. I will have to stay home tomorrow instead. I suppose it doesn't matter. I can rearrange some things. But let's have tea before you go, please?"
Having used my only good trick, I stood there, still holding my stuff. "Just a cup. I don't want to be late."
She took her time. The water took forever to boil. She went into the bathroom to wash up, then changed clothes. I waited for her while the tea brewed, then dumped half of my cup into the sink. I refilled it with cold tap water. Before I sat back down I noticed her phone on the counter. I flipped through her call log.
Clay. Anton. Clay. Andrei. I heard her closet door close. I snapped the phone shut and sat back down. When she came out she asked if I wanted to eat.
"No, I'm going to finish this and go." And I began to sip.
She talked about how much she missed me, her hands clamped firmly onto my wrists so I couldn't gulp the rest of my tea down. And when I said I really had to go she pouted. Her lips sagged and puffed, her green eyes wouldn't look at me. She said, "It's not my fault. You said you would call me. I waited and waited."
She was right. It was my fault I didn't call. But things had definitely changed. I said, "And here I am now. We were together last night, right?"
"But you were so sad..."
"Jesus Christ, Danicka. One of my best friends is dead and Pauly's in the hospital. And if that is my dad... You know, you said some nasty things in that voicemail." I buttoned my coat.
"And I said how sorry I was." She pushed my arm to the side and sat on my lap. "Do I have to show you?"
She drew her leg across my lap to straddle me. She leaned in for a kiss, and I turned my head to the side a little, so she went after my neck.
"Please, don't. Dani..."
She put her cheek against mine and whispered in my ear. "I didn't get to touch you, Preston. That's all I wanted."
Muddy thinking made me force a bad lie. "Tonight. Just wait until tonight."
"Is that a promise? Will you call me or should I call you?" She collapsed onto my chest, her hands clasped behind my neck.
"I'll call you. After I finish my lessons." I gently pushed her away.
"Kiss me before you go."
I gave her a flat peck on the lips.
"Kiss me." The order came from her eyes.
I leaned in. She locked her elbows behind my neck. Thinking about Katy and this stupid half-lie made my face hot. Knowing that I could lie to Katy so easy but not tell Dani the truth made me feel weak. I knew I had to kick Dani to the curb and get over it.
Dani wrapped her legs around me. I set her on the table and pushed her away.
"I'll be thinking about you all day. Call me when you can." She stood up, put her hand on my shoulder. Her green eyes looked right into me. "Let me drive you."
"No, I need to shake this hangover." I zipped up my coat and took a few steps toward the door. I picked up my guitar case and my pack, and turned, "By the way, where's your car? Did you have a rental last night?"
"Body shop. I had an incident Saturday." She folded her arms, leaning her head so that a few long strands of hair fell across her face.
"Incident or accident?"
"Does it matter?"
It did. She always said exactly what she meant to. Words, to her, were like one hundred dollar bills. "Saturday, huh? Was anybody hurt?"
"How should I know?"
"What are the chances?" I mumbled, going for the door, shoes still untied.
Stomping down the old wooden steps made my head throb. I went through the big wooden interior door, letting it slam behind me. On the bottom step I sat to tie my shoes and texted Katy. I couldn't remember if she had class or worked at the daycare. It didn't matter. I just wanted to see her. Almost bad enough to call and cancel my lessons. But that would've been dumb. I started walking.
The river looked really high. I could see it through the bare trees. Water gushed over the dam at the lock, a huge heap of debris circled in the pool above it. I stopped at Dairy Mart and had enough cash on me to get a few pepperoni rolls before heading to an ATM and back up to the apartment to put in a load of clothes and sleep off my hangover.
But when I got up the chilly air almost sent me back into bed. I went over to the thermostat and cranked it up, and listened for the click of the furnace. "Fucking landlord."
I settled for a really hot shower and got dressed. On the closet floor next to my shoes sat Stu's drum sticks. I saw them and cried. I wiped my eyes on one of my clean shirts.
Thinking about Katy was the only thing that made everything feel okay. Even if the snow never melted, and the sun never came back out, I had something with her.
Which meant I had to get this Dani thing resolved tonight. And fast, like pulling off a Band-Aid.
Before I left the apartment I took a minute. My shit was gone. Pauly's shit was gone. Like nobody lived there anymore. I took Stu's drumsticks with me.
When I got to Mick's, he was on the phone. I nodded. He nodded back. No 'How was your weekend?' or anything. I went straight to the back. All through my lessons I thought about two things—seeing Katy and tidying up my affair with Dani. But mostly seeing Katy. She texted during my lesson.
So I rehearsed my speech to Dani in my head while I ran through pentatonics and minor chords with students. Really, I didn't even need to see her. I could've done it over the phone.
When my last lesson left I went out to see Mick. He offered sour criticism of my early arrival and shorter than usual lessons. I said, "Say what you want, but you ain't going to put the kibosh on me today."
He said, "You're playing with fire."
I just smiled at him. Katy had texted.
I told her to come in to meet Mick, figuring he'd believe it when he saw it. Mick suggested I take her up to the middle school with me, but she had to be at the day care center tomorrow. He treated her really nice—nicer than he ever treated a customer—and gave me a slap on the shoulder on our way out. Sooner or later he'd see I was okay.
Katy asked if I wanted to eat before we practiced, and I asked if she minded a change of plans, and if it was okay if we went to see Stu instead. I told her I'd drive, except Pauly totaled the Jeep. She put her hand on my knee, and said, "Anything."
I put gas in her car, and told her I'd get her lunch. Then Pauly texted and I told him I was going to see Stu and he said even though I couldn't visit, I could see him at the AA meeting tonight. Katy said we could practice until the time came to head up to the AA meeting and she could just drop me off at Ruby since she lived nearby.
On the drive through Fairmont the sun finally came out. Just one of the many magical qualities of I-79. We talked abou
t the guy at the meeting. The one Pauly said was my dad. We talked about the accident and Stu. A warm breeze blew up from the river. I opened my window a crack and let spring blow in.
Katy studied while I drove. But I did a poor job of letting her do her thing. Every time CLG played something we covered I had a story. Johnny Cash came on and I told her about the time we played a version of "Ring of Fire" outside of Fairmont after a hurricane came through and dropped three inches of rain before we even set up. The fire chief thought we might have to pack up and get out if we didn't want to spend the night there. Stu bought us water wings at a dollar store before we went on stage.
Then CLG played Alice In Chains and I told her about the New Year's Eve in Albright when I got so sick I brought a bottle of Robatussin and the security guard accused me of robotripping and said he called the cops. Stu told him he shouldn't have done it, and when a local cop showed up he asked Stu, "What are you hanging around here for?" and Stu said, quoting Johnny Cash, "For whatever's about to go down, that's what for."
Then they played a few commercials and my mind drifted until Katy squealed, "That's your show!"
I cranked the volume and caught the tail end of the spot for Mikey's show on Friday, "...Get your heart on! Sponsored by Blindside Records and WCLG, Morgantown's home for rock."
When it ended I asked, "Did you hear it? They said my name? What else did they say?"
"I didn't hear."
"Holy crap. Wow." It didn't seem real until now. Caught up in the moment, I asked, "Why don't you play with me? You know, like we did Saturday? We sound pretty good together."
She put the cap back on her pen. "We did, but it's your night. Didn't you say there were going to be label people there? I don't want to diminish your moment."
"And I don't want to go on alone. I'm not a solo act."
She said she'd think about it. I drove the rest of the way down in silence for fear I'd talk over the spot again. Clouds moved in, I said goodbye to the sun and rolled my window up. When we got to the National Cemetery I pulled off at the information kiosk. The sky had grown completely overcast. By the time we circled around the big cemetery I forgot all about the radio, like it wasn't ever real to begin with. Maybe it'd take a lot more than a name on a tombstone to convince me Stu'd never come back. Katy asked if I wanted her to come with me, or if I'd rather be alone. "Of course I want you with me."
The Devil and Preston Black (Murder Ballads and Whiskey) Page 22