Rehab Blues

by Adrian Laing

  Helen and David were ahead of Davy on this score, but Davy wasn’t to know that.

  “Listen, Davy. We’ve got a ton of rules and regulations we have to live with. We have a drug policy which is stated clearly in our house rules.” Davy looked confused.

  “You remember there were some papers on your bed, you know like a ‘Welcome Pack’.” Davy shook his head as if David was talking another language.

  Helen decided to have a go. “Listen carefully, Davy. We don’t condone any drug use at all, and that includes all forms of alcohol, tobacco and any type of dope, grass, gear, stuff or any type of un-prescribed drug.”

  “You’re shitting me guys, come on, tell me you’re shitting me. Hell, I can’t go cold turkey on my smoke after… after fifty years. You trying to kill me? No way, brothers. I’ve got to have my smoke. Got to.”

  Helen and David had been here before; David preferred Helen to do the talking on this one.

  “OK, Davy. Here’s the deal. We have to confiscate your… your gear. We can then say hand on heart we acted above the law.” Helen produced a couple of bits of paper and turned the first page over, indicating a dotted line.

  “You need to sign this piece of paper which confirms that we’ve taken your stuff. Don’t panic, I haven’t finished yet. We can’t stop you finding your stuff and having a discreet smoke outside in the patio area. We do try to dissuade our guests from smoking – anything – but we do accept that some addictions are so deeply rooted that we can’t expect to detach our guests from real physical addictions over a few days.”

  “Yeah, OK, but what’s the deal, lady?” Davy looked very concerned, and confused.

  “I prefer Helen, Davy. The deal is that after the next session, when you go back to your room you might just find that your stuff has found its way under your pillow. You mustn’t smoke in your room. But we’re not going to stop you from smoking – as I said – outside in the patio area. So, all you have to do is believe in the tooth fairy.”

  Davy looked considerably more relaxed. “OK, Helen, that’s cool. I like that. I’m OK, you’re OK. Why hell, we’re all OK.”

  “OK,” said David “now we’re all OK, let’s head down to the Encounter Area and we can get going on the next session.”

  “The Encounter Area, like that’s what you call that dungeon downstairs. I’m OK with that. I’m into encounters David, my whole goddamn life has been one long encounter, that’s for sure. I’ll wait for the tooth fairy to deliver. Man, I believe in the tooth fairy. Where do you want to me to sign?”

  ***

  The guests arrived more or less at the precisely allocated time to take their very carefully arranged seats for what they understood to be a ‘routine’ group therapy session. But each of them, Davy, Huck, Betty, Toni, Mandy and the newest guest, Cheryl Smith, had a worrying feeling that nothing was routine about The Place.

  Helen had decided that she would conduct this session on her own; it was something she enjoyed, immensely. Helen’s passion was to ensure that every session had some form of lasting impact on those who took part. It wasn’t enough to have people sitting around simply having a chat. That was too easy. To make the encounter special, some other ingredient had to be added and Helen had come up with the idea of the ‘Spotlight Zone’.

  The group took their seats in nervous anticipation. There appeared to be no props, music or sounds on this occasion but the wry smile on Helen’s face betrayed something.

  “Please, I want each of you, first of all, to relax.” Helen enjoyed her opening line as it always had the opposite effect which was part of the fun.

  “My, that didn’t work did it? You are all so tensed up; it’s like looking across at a wall made of stress and anxiety. Now, we’re going to try again. This time close your eyes, breathe in through your nose and hold it for a few seconds. Now breathe out, slowly through your mouth. Now can we just try that a couple of times. Try placing your hands on your knees and keep your back straight otherwise you’ll get distracted by being uncomfortable.”

  Helen waited until the feeling of palpable tension had been reduced. “Now I want you all to tense up as much as you can. Clench those fists; make your body rigid – that’s it. I can see none of you have any problems with this one. Now, hold it, hold it. OK, now relax, and breathe. Imagine there’s a pencil attached to the end of your nose. Draw a great big circle with that pencil, that’s it – great big circles, feel those neck muscles working. Do it one way, then the other, wider circles each time, that’s it. Good, very good. Now, open your eyes.”

  Helen looked round at the group and as expected, everyone was smiling and looking a great deal less stressed than a few minutes ago. Now they were ready.

  “OK,” said Helen “here’s how this session works. I’ve conducted countless group therapy sessions and most of them were a complete waste of time. The problem is that there are too many distractions.”

  Helen reached beneath her chair and held up a small remote control. “We’ve been thinking how to make this work, and this is what we came up with. Watch this.”

  Helen pressed a couple of buttons and for a moment the room went pitch black until Helen spoke again.

  “You see,” said Helen, as a strong spotlight focussed on her face highlighting quite dramatically her features against a background of almost total blackness, “when I speak a sensor on one of the spotlights on the ceiling picks up my voice. Each of you has a light directed towards you, and it will shine in your direction when you speak or make any noise. It’s quite neat isn’t it? The technology’s been around a long time mainly for security purposes but it will work great for this setting, believe me. When I stop speaking, the light fades out. Watch.”

  True enough a moment or two after Helen had stopped speaking the room plunged back into total darkness.

  Helen continued and the light appeared on her face again. “Now, everyone in turn, just to check all is in order, simply say your name. Wait until the light has gone out before you say anything. Let’s go round the circle starting with you, Cheryl.”

  As soon as Helen stopped speaking, the spotlight dimmed and the room went dark.

  “Oh yes, and before we start I just want you to say, after you’ve said your name, one of two things. You can either say: ‘I shall not be totally honest with this group’ or ‘I shall be totally honest with this group’. It’s your decision, it really is.”

  Everyone waited for Cheryl to say something, anything. The time passed as slowly as if in a dentist’s chair and still no word from Cheryl. After what seemed like an eternity, a spotlight focussed on Cheryl not because of any words she had spoken, but as a result of her distinct sobbing.

  Helen was content to let this continue; it was a bizarre and very intense scene as Cheryl’s tears continued unabated. It was too much for Huck who knew he was supposed to wait his turn.

  “My name is Huck, and I intend to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” Huck’s interpretation of Helen’s opening statement came across as if Huck was giving evidence in a courtroom, which Toni seemed to find funny. Toni’s giggles came to an abrupt end when a light shone on him.

  Toni looked somewhat startled and embarrassed. “Oh, shit. Hey, I’m sorry guys. Just nerves you know. Feel like Gootsy’s about to appear and say ‘we have ways of making you scream’.”

  Nobody responded, not even Toni’s ally Betty and the room went dark again.

  “My name’s Betty and I’m going to be totally honest with you all.”

  The room once more descended into darkness and Davy Crockett was now prepared. “My name is Davy Crockett. Man, this is heavy shit. I’m cool, no bullshit from me.”

  “I’m Mandy, and I’ll be truthful, I promise.” Mandy looked and sounded like a naughty school girl; there was a clear sexiness in her voice.

  The room went dark again; there was a group anticipation of Che
ryl finding the courage to actually speak, but instead she hung her head as if in shame and tried very hard and very successfully to make no noise at all.

  Helen liked this part, the bit where nobody knew what to do. It was the interesting stage and started a new challenge, like a see-who-blinks-first type of game; a Mexican stand-off in complete silence. Helen closed her eyes and breathed consciously and lightly, content to wait for as long as it took for someone to crack.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Cheryl lifted her head and said “My name… my name is Cheryl Smith. I promise I will try and tell the truth.”

  “What kinda shit is that sister? Like I will try and tell the truth? I mean come out with it lady, say it how it is, say you gonna tell the truth or like you ain’t gonna tell the truth. I mean is you, or ain’t you, gonna tell the truth Cheryl?”

  Davy leaned back and let the light fade, feeling immediately quite smug until Cheryl’s sobbing started to continue.

  Davy, perhaps feeling guilty over his outburst or perhaps just wanting to lighten the mood, couldn’t resist the opportunity and quite spontaneously sang, slowly and softly, the opening bars of a reggae version of ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ that always brought the house down. Davy took a breath and continued, this time upping the tempo and giving the song his soulful best.

  This was too much for Toni who felt he had no choice but to support Davy with a backing vocal and some serious-looking air guitar movements.

  And so Toni and Davy carried the song through until even Betty and Huck were clapping hands and singing along until the final crescendo which resulted in a loud and spontaneous applause from everyone, except Cheryl, who remained defiantly silent and then burst forth like a breaking dam.

  “OK, OK. This is my first day. Maybe you’ve all been sort of broken in already, I haven’t. I’m only here because of the pressure from my family. It’s a big family. We were all shit poor until my sister got properly hitched up with Martin. Oh god, I’ve been a bitch, I really have. A right fat bitch. Is that what you wanted to hear? OK, you’ve heard it. That’s the truth. Can I go now?”

  Cheryl burst into tears and headed for the door, but it was Davy who got to her first and placed an arm around her and led her back to her seat. Helen discreetly pressed a button on the remote control and the room lit up.

  Davy stayed with Cheryl, his arm placed protectively around her shoulder, while the others tried hard not to stare too consciously in Cheryl’s direction.

  Helen decided it was time to resume control.

  “OK, this time we can keep the lights on. Let’s start again. Cheryl, over to you.” Davy looked at Helen quite intensely as if to say ‘are you sure’ and returned to his seat but Helen all the while kept her gaze on Cheryl who composed herself with surprising speed.

  “Right, my name is Cheryl Smith, Tracy’s sister, and I’m going to tell you all the truth.”

  15

  Helen, David and JC sat in their familiar seats in David’s office. The atmosphere was intense, even by the high standards of The Place.

  “OK, Helen, JC this is what’s going on. I had a chat with Simon Hall and I wanted to have a little think before I shared this with you. Simon is the senior hatchet man at the Sunday News, a right little bastard. Simon told me they’re gonna run with a story about The Place. He seemed to emphasise – a lot – the fact that the piece wasn’t about our guests. It will be about us, ‘the unholy Trinity’ as they’re going to headline us. He said ‘as was the usual practice’ – what was it – oh yes, that ‘in accordance with the highest standards of professional journalism’ he of course would like our views and comments on the piece including the photos – jeez what has he found – before it’s published. He said that we could have forty-eight hours and then they’ll go to print.”

  David’s head sunk as if in defeat, but then he picked himself up, quickly.

  “That’s what he said. What I told him was that he couldn’t expect this to go to print without a fight. There’s got to be all sort of legal issues here. I said, ‘For sure, send me what you’ve got to say, we’ve got nothing to hide, or worry about.’ I was dead cool. Anyway, the entire text will be with us later today, tomorrow latest. I’m sure it will be very entertaining.”

  “Oh shit,” said JC, “we’re done for, surely. Helen, why are you still smiling? Shouldn’t we be in tears, in a state? It’s time to panic and run, isn’t it?” JC wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. It was just that he couldn’t understand why Helen and his dad seemed so in control and unperturbed.

  “Listen, JC. When I met your dad he was different from all the others. First of all I’d never come across someone with such inner confidence and ambition. OK, he’s pretty good looking too.”

  “And,” continued Helen, “your dad is the coolest person I’ve ever met when confronted with a crisis. I’m sure he’s told you the stories. Anyway, I always had complete faith in David and I still do. David, how was it left with Simon?”

  “It was left on the basis that I needed to review the entire material, the text and the photographs. I said it sounded like a gross invasion of not just our rights but the rights of our guests. I said if he published without us having a fair opportunity to review the material, take advice and respond then he would be out of his job without question.”

  “Yeah, OK dad, and what did he say to that?”

  “He said, JC, that he’d give us seven days instead of the forty-eight hours he originally had in mind, and that he’d send me a copy of the material by email. Funnily enough he didn’t ask me for my personal email address; he seemed to know that already.”

  “So, we’ve got a week to find an answer to this one, dad?”

  “Not quite, JC, more like five days.”

  “Five days,” said Helen calmly, “more than enough time to sort this one out even if we do have to put it high on the list of Cosmic Ordering.”

  JC looked at Helen and his dad, still puzzled as to why they weren’t having a major meltdown.

  ***

  Helen sat opposite Huck in David’s office. Huck knew this wasn’t routine simply because he wasn’t sitting on the sofa but in a chair opposite Helen.

  “OK, Huck. I’ve heard the story from David. He’s coming to join us in a few moments with JC. I understand that there’s an idea afoot to give you a sort of trial at being part of The Place, is that right? I mean, how do you see it?”

  Huck rubbed his chin with his hand and looked Helen hard into her eyes.

  “In my line of work there’s no room for bullshit, Helen. When you get in the cage you’ve given the other guy an invitation to hurt you, I mean really hurt you, physically… emotionally… totally.”

  Huck paused as if he was trying hard not to repeat some pre-rehearsed speech but to speak spontaneously, from the heart.

  “What I like about The Place Helen is that it’s the exact opposite of what I do in the cage. Here, you try and put people together, I like that. I can see also that you need to help them fall apart a bit and then help put the pieces back together. I felt I did that with Martin, it was just instinctive. I didn’t feel like I was giving him therapy or anything like that. It was just honest advice. I’m not saying I’m a born-again therapist but I reckon I can help, you know, put people back together.”

  At that point David and JC came through the door, obviously a bit taken aback at seeing Huck in one of the comfy chairs and not, where all guests were expected to sit, on the sofa.

  Huck stood up and shook David and JC by the hand in turn.

  “Am I sitting in someone’s seat? I feel like Goldilocks.” If Huck had intended to diffuse the obvious tension it didn’t work.

  David immediately sat in the chair Huck had been sitting in; it was after all David’s chair.

  Huck sat down again, this time where he felt he should be, on the sofa, while Helen, David and JC resumed their famili
ar places, all facing Huck.

  “OK, this feels more comfortable, I know my place. I’m not trying to, you know, take someone else’s seat.” Huck looked at JC with some concern. “JC, you know what’s being discussed. Are you OK with me getting a bit more involved? I don’t want you to feel I’m stepping on any toes or anything like that.”

  “I like you Huck, I do. I guess it’s a big step, that’s all, to have someone else on board.” JC felt jealous, threatened even, and it showed.

  “I know,” said Helen in an unusually matriarchal tone. “Huck, why don’t you spell out in a bit more detail what you’ve got in mind and we can have a chat as to whether we think it will work, or not.”

  JC nodded in agreement.

  “What I’ve got in mind is that you let me take a class – activity – and see how it goes. If I’m staying here then it might be useful, if you let with me share with someone who might be difficult. I don’t mean to set myself as a sort of double-agent… but you know it might just be helpful.”

  David was warming to the idea. “I like it, Huck. What do you think, JC?”

  “Well, yeah, I can see it. What sort of activities did you have in mind Huck?”

  Huck smiled, as he felt they all knew the answer.

  “I’ll tell you what I’d like to do. I want to introduce some martial arts training as a part of your programme. Nothing too heavy, I know when to stop. I’ve been trained in several martial arts from Tae Kwon Do, Kung Fu, Krav Maga, Karate, Judo of course, to Ju-Jitsu, Aikido… it’s been my life since ever I can remember. The great thing is that the training is great exercise and it helps people face fears – it all seems to fit in with what The Place is all about, don’t you think?”

  “OK,” said Helen. “We’ll talk it through and we’ll pick up later on. In the meantime Huck what you’ll need to learn is patience. Earlier, you know in the Spotlight session, you took over Cheryl’s turn. I’m not saying that was wrong, but it’s not what I’d expect you to do if you were on the inside. Do you accept that, Huck?”