Maxfield, Z.A. St. Nacho's

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

someplace you landed when you were rolling around on your motorcycle, running away
from who you really are.
I m sure he was getting ready to go on, but I interrupted him by putting a hand out.
Wait. What?
Stan told me. He said you ve been running away from who you are and what you ve
done. He told me he could help you.
I don t want his help! I don t need his help. What if I m not running away from who I
am? What if I m running toward who I want to become?
Jordan glared at me. Because you can do it all by yourself, is that it?
Something like that. I can do lots of things by myself, and frankly, I don t even know
what it is we re talking about doing! I calmed my thoughts. Look. There s no question Stan
is there for you, and that s a good thing. I just think for me --
Every day, Jordie said. I wake up in the morning thinking, why the fuck can t I have
a damned drink?
What? I asked. Where had that come from?
Every day, it s just as hard as the day before. Everything here reminds me. If I m not
thinking about scouts, Little League, raiding the sacrament wine, or rolling around between
the pews copping my first feel of your ass, I m remembering the times when we were little
high school fucking gods, Coop, thumbing our noses at the small-town assholes and drinking
and smoking dope and fucking till we couldn t take a breath anymore!
Did he see that as the good times? No wonder there was no way I could connect with
him. Jordie, I said. We can t go back to that.
I know that! He raked a hand through his hair. Cause now I m remembering the
look on Mrs. Johnson s face when she saw Bobby under the wheels of our truck. Our truck.
Stan tells me that we ll be forgiven. He says that we have a chance to be clean again. It s the
only thing that keeps me from taking that drink, trying to score some dope& It s the only
thing holding me in place, cause not even gravity feels like it s working anymore. He lifted
his lemonade to his lips with a shaking hand.
I get that, I said, hooking a hand around his neck. I squeezed and rubbed little circles
on his shoulders to soothe him. I do.
So keep coming with me; we can do this. We can find a place where it doesn t follow
us. We can do that if we do it together.
86 Z. A. Maxfield
I can t do that, babe. I sighed. It s not right for me. I don t think it s the same for me
as it is for you. I won t drink again. Not because something is keeping me from it, but
because it just isn t where I get what I need anymore. And I know Stan and the church are
giving you what you need; I m so fucking happy for you, Jordie, you have no idea. I
wrapped both arms around him and held him hard. But I need something different.
Something I m not going to find here in River Falls. Something I don t want to do without
anymore.
Jordie pulled away a few inches and looked at me with such contempt. I guess I hadn t
seen that before, but it might have been there all along. I can t decide which is worse,
Jordie said, shoving me aside. That you re an amazing fucking snob, or that you re the
world s biggest hypocrite. Jordie left the chair, the patio, and the apartment without a
backward glance.
* * * * *
By eleven that night I had an ashtray full of smoked cigarettes. I called around and no
one had seen Jordie, and I assumed the worst. I hoped he d run to Stan, but I worried that he
couldn t handle things and had started drinking again, and that he d have to go back to day
one, back to where it all starts. I was so fucking sorry for him I couldn t even see him as a
person anymore. That night I got, for the first time maybe, how deeply fucked my decision
to come home and try to help Jordan had been. He was like a drowning man clinging to a
lead anchor for safety.
I heard the key in the door, scraping, and waited patiently until Jordan came into the
bedroom. I sat in bed, wearing brand-new flannel drawstring pants and an old T-shirt, the
ashtray next to me. I had a book, some mystery that my sister had given me, and I d been
reading the first paragraph since about eight, over and over again. He wasn t reeling or
walking awkwardly, except maybe he walked slowly, like he was stiff.
Hey, he said, standing in the doorway, backlit by the light from the hall.
Hey, Jordie. I was getting worried. You okay? I had to go carefully. His eyes said
something, his body said something, but for once I couldn t read it at all.
I m fine. He began to remove his jacket and winced a little. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Archiwum