A MILLION LITTLE PIECES
: Chapter 16

There are hands shaking me gently shaking me. I hear my name James James James I am being shaken. I hear my name. James.

I open my eyes. It is dark I can see the blurred shape shaking me and saying my name. I blink once. Twice. It is dark. I can see.

Miles is standing above me. He sees my eyes I see his eyes. He lets me go. I sit up.

There’s a young lady at the window for you.

What?

A young lady is at the window. She’s asking for you.

I lean forward, look around him. I see an outline through the glass.

Fuck.

Miles laughs.

Women are difficult. They become more so if you ignore them. I’d suggest you go speak to her.

Fuck.

I push away the covers, Miles steps back. I drag myself from my bed and I walk to the window and I open it. A rush of cold of a cold wind slaps me in the face. I stick my head out the window. Lilly is standing in the shadows. She speaks.

I need to talk to you.

Right now?

Yes.

Can’t wait till morning?

I need to talk to you.

Hold on.

I step away from the window and I close it. I turn around and Miles is smiling at me.

You knew it couldn’t wait till morning if she woke us up in the middle of the night.

I thought I’d try.

I put on my pants.

There’s no use trying with them. You just do.

My shoes.

That’ll be my Policy in the future.

Hank’s jacket.

It’s the best way.

I walk back to the window.

Sorry you got woken up.

Miles smiles.

Don’t get caught.

I smile.

I won’t.

I open the window, get hit by the cold the cold the cold. I climb through and I close the window behind me. Lilly is in the shadows. I walk toward her.

Hi.

That’s all you’ve got to say?

What’s that supposed to mean?

You think you can say hi to me and everything will be cool?

What are you talking about?

I stop walking and I stand in front of her. I can see swollen eyes and the stains of tears. I see her rear and swing. One step back and she misses.

What the fuck is your problem?

She regains her balance and she steps forward and she pushes me.

Fuck you.

I laugh. She pushes me again.

You think this is funny?

She pushes me again.

Fuck you.

Her voice is getting louder. She pushes again.

Fuck you.

She rears back.

FUCK YOU.

She swings. I grab her arm. She swings with the other. I grab that one. She struggles and she clenches her teeth and I hold her arms and I drag her away from the Building, trying to be gentle, but using enough strength to move her. She says let me go let me go you fucking Asshole let me go. I ignore her. I walk slowly backward, holding her arms and gently pulling her into the darkness.

Fifty feet away we’re safe. I keep pulling, she keeps struggling and swearing and calling me names. A hundred feet away we’re safer. The darkness is darker. The sound carries less. I stop walking and pulling, but I don’t let go. She struggles. I put my arms around her and I hold her tight.

Calm down.

No.

I’m not letting go of you.

I’ll make you.

She struggles more. I hold tighter. Her body is against mine, her arms are pressed against the flesh of each chest. I hold her and she struggles. I wait and she swears. When she stops after a few moments she stops I hold her still. She breathes. Deep heavy breaths. In the silence of night. In the darkness where we’re safe.

Her breathing slows slows slows. I lay my head on her shoulder. When she is breathing normally I speak.

You all right?

No.

What’s wrong?

You’re an Asshole.

Why am I an Asshole?

You talked to him. Why didn’t you show up?

When?

You talked to that Motherfucker on your Unit.

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Where were you today?

When?

At three o’clock.

In a session at the Family Center.

You were supposed to be with me.

I didn’t know that.

You had three plates at lunch. Three o’clock.

I didn’t know we were doing that today.

Why’d you think I was staring at you during dinner?

I had no idea. I thought you looked upset, but I didn’t know why.

Why didn’t you call me?

You always call me.

So what?

I don’t have the number.

That’s bullshit.

No, it’s not.

That’s an excuse. You should have called me.

Give me the number and next time I will.

She pushes herself away me from slightly away but she keeps her arms around me. She looks down at the ground and at the blackness near her feet. She looks up. Clear water blue into pale green. She smiles, barely smiles, not a happy smile but a smile of regret. Of sadness. A smile of mistake and of misunderstanding. She speaks.

I’m sorry.

Why?

I got scared.

Why were you scared?

I was scared you were leaving me.

I’m not going to do that.

I was scared after I told you those things about me that you didn’t want to see me anymore. Then I thought somebody on your Unit told you something else.

Those things don’t bother me. Nothing I hear is going to bother me.

I thought they did, and when you didn’t show up, I thought I knew for sure.

The only thing you need to know for sure is that I’m not leaving.

She smiles. This time it’s a real smile.

Ever?

Yes. Ever.

You’re sure?

I am.

I don’t want to be alone anymore, James.

You won’t be.

I cried all day.

Don’t cry again. Just think of the word ever.

She smiles brighter, wider, a smile more full of what she is, which is beautiful. Inside and out. The smile. Her. Beautiful. She leans forward and she steps to her toes and she closes her eyes and she kisses me. Long and sweet and slow. I could keep kissing her forever.

We separate. I tell her we should go. Not back, but farther into the darkness. We start walking, hand in hand, slow steps, there’s no hurry. The Woods are alive at night. Twigs cracking, leaves rustling, branches swaying. Moon sitting, clouds drifting. Shadows dancing and threatening and disappearing. Small animals fighting and chattering and foraging for food. Small animals hiding. The living Wood.

As we walk we talk. Lilly needs to talk about her feelings about her worries about her fears. I let her. I encourage her. I listen to her. Though the stains of tears have been wiped away from the softness of her cheek, the cause of her tears remains alive and full not faded not yet. She talks softly and easily and without hesitation. She talks of her feelings of being left in the past. By her Father and by the Boy in Chicago and by everyone she has ever cared about in her entire life. They left her and they never called and they never sent a letter, never showed her that they loved her, never came back. Not once. Not ever.

She talks about the desertion. How each time it broke her heart. How with each break it became harder to heal. How with each time she healed, it became harder to love again. How each time hope faded into desolation. Into loneliness and despair. Into self-hatred and self-loathing. At the beginning there was hope. It faded. At the end there was nothing.

She talks about me in relation to her life. She is seeking freedom. That is all she wants, all she desires, all she hopes to achieve. Freedom. Not just from chemicals but from the cycle of loving and losing, risking and failing, returning to that which she abhors each time returning. She thought she had lost me earlier today. With that she thought she began to lose herself. To feel doors closing on the Prison of self-destruction. She wanted to fight it but she can’t fight it all. Not chemicals and her past and the prospect of a dim, solitary, isolated future. She started to need. Need the crack. Need the pills. Need something to kill the pain. She thought about leaving and she almost left. She imagined herself walking out. She was going to go to the Bus Station in Minneapolis and panhandle money for a ticket back to Chicago. Panhandle or worse. When she got to Chicago she was going to go see her Grandmother and say good-bye. Good-bye to the only Person who ever cared about her. Good-bye. There are other ways to achieve freedom. Good-bye.

We stop walking. We sit on a bench, the carved wooden bench. One of the smaller Lakes is frozen in front of us. Frozen dark silent unmoving content. We sit on the bench and I hold Lilly’s hands in my hands. I keep them warm. I tell her I’m glad she didn’t leave. More than glad. I tell her that if she had left I would have followed her. I would have found her, I will not let her say good-bye to me or to her Grandmother or to life. It is all we have and it is not to be wasted. We have wasted too much she and I and the others like us. Wasted far too much. We have to hold on to what we have left. Fight for it. Cherish it. Try to survive it. Try to love it. I would have followed her. I’m going to hold on to her. I will fight for her. Cherish her. Try to survive myself. Try to survive myself so that I can love her. I hold her hands in mine. I keep them warm.

We stand and we start walking. Hand in hand we walk as if we’re normal People living normal lives, in love. Just walking. The Trail leads us along shores of ice through dead yellow grass to the wooden Elevated Walk and up. We stop in the middle and we smoke cigarettes. We stare at the darkness stare across the waters of the Swamp. There is no otter just us. We stare at the water. We are holding each other’s hands. There are no words. None necessary.

We finish smoking start walking back down into the Wood. The circle around the Land of the Clinic is ours and only ours we are completely alone. Just walking. Like normal People. Walking up the grass of the hill we sit on the cold ground at the top looking down at the concrete and steel reminders of our pasts. Halls too bright too white the Halls of Hell for some, purgatory for others, redemption for few. The Buildings are quiet, imposing and well lit. I don’t want to go back. Going back means leaving her hand her body her eyes her lips her pale skin her hair long and black her hair long and black. Going back means leaving her. I don’t want to go.

We lean to the ground holding hands our legs wrapped together. We look toward each other. She smiles and I smile. I speak.

I’m glad you knocked on my window.

I am too.

I wish we could do this every night.

We can.

We have to be careful.

They won’t catch us.

They know we’re doing something.

They won’t catch us.

I hope not.

How are your Parents?

They’re good.

How has it been with them?

Very good.

You’re getting along?

For the first time ever.

Are they being cool?

More than I imagined they could be.

What’s your Dad do?

He’s a Businessman. Works eighteen hours a day and travels a lot.

What’s your Mom do?

Travels with my Dad.

How long have they been married?

Twenty-eight years.

Are they in love?

Very much so.

That’s incredible.

It is.

I want to meet them.

They want to meet you.

You told them about me?

Yes.

What’d you say?

I told them I met a Girl.

What else?

That she was beautiful and that she understood me.

What else?

I pause, smile.

Why are you smiling?

I just am.

What else did you tell them?

I told them I loved her.

She smiles.

What?

I told my Parents I loved her.

She smiles wider.

No you didn’t.

I smile wider.

I did.

You told them you loved me?

Yes.

Tell me.

Is that what you want?

Tell me.

I smile. I stare. I am holding her hand and my legs are wrapped with hers. My eyes are inches away. Inches. From clear water blue in the darkness. They cannot be dimmed even in the darkness they cannot be dimmed. I stare and I smile and I speak.

I love you.

She smiles. With her lips, her teeth, her eyes, her shaking hand. She smiles and I say it again.

I love you.

I say it again.

I love you.

I say it again.

I love you.

And I do. I love her. This Girl who said hello to me as I stood in line for medicine. This Girl with addictions to crack and pills. This Girl who used to sleep with men for money and hitchhiked across the Country on her back. This Girl who has been through things of which she cannot speak. This Girl with nothing. This Girl with nothing but her own strength and a desire to be free. With nothing but a beating heart that is scared to be alone. With nothing but clear blue eyes that see through me and understand me. With nothing but open arms ready to receive me. To stand by me. To walk with me. To love me. I love her. Lilly. The Girl with nothing and everything. Lilly. I love her.

A tear appears. She smiles. She leans forward kisses my lips softly kisses me and as our lips touch barely touch she whispers.

I love you too, James.

Our lips barely touching she whispers.

I love you.

Whispers.

I love you.

We lie together. Smiling and holding on to each other and the night and the moment. We stare into each other’s eyes and softly kiss speaking and saying more with the movement of our lips and the tips of our fingers than words will allow us to say. Words can’t say this. The one word love means too little for what it is. It means everything and that is still not enough. It doesn’t communicate even a fraction of the feelings involved. Love. The word is not enough for what it is. Love. Love.

The Sun starts to rise. Behind us the light streams in thin white and yellow and pink lines. I don’t want to leave. I could lie here and die happy. I could die in this love happy and without the need for anything more. I don’t want to leave. I know by the way Lilly holds me tighter with each moment a little tighter that she does not want to leave. We have no choice. We have to go back.

I pull away and I tell her we have to leave and she says she knows and we kiss one last time slow and deep the clock is ticking. We untangle each other from ourselves and it takes a second and a century and we stand. I hold her hand in my hand I look into her eyes and I stare. I don’t see what I saw when I stared into the Arctic eyes in my final moment of impotence. There is nothing saying go away, I don’t want you. In Lilly’s eyes her beautiful clear water eyes there is what I have sought and never found, wanted and never had, hoped for and never discovered. Love.

I step back and I step away. Our eyes are still locked, our hands still touching. I take another step. Our fingers touch, one finger from each of our hands. I smile again and I speak.

Ever.

She smiles.

Remember that when you feel scared or vulnerable or you don’t think things are going to work out.

She smiles wider.

Ever.

One more step and I’m away our fingers apart. I turn and I start walking down the hill. I want to look back, but if I do I won’t keep going. I know it’s time to return. My wounds aren’t healed and I need to heal them. If I am to survive to live to love completely I need more time just a little more time. If I look back I’ll go back. To her to her arms to the safety and comfort within. It is not time. Not yet.

I reach the bottom of the Hill. I walk across the wide expanse of dead grass in front of the Buildings. I open the sliding-glass door and I step into the Unit. Leonard is doing jumping jacks in the middle of the Lower Level. I ignore him. I turn and I look back through the glass toward the hill. Lilly is still there. Sitting on the ground smoking a cigarette. Staring down at me. The smoke drifts off one hand and she raises it. Holds it in the air. She can see me. I raise one hand and press it against the glass. Hold it. We stare at each other we are too far away to see anything but outlines. It doesn’t matter.

I lower my hand. She lowers her hand. I stand for a moment. I can hear Leonard finishing his jumping jacks behind me. When he does, I step away from the window and I turn around.

Leonard is bent over, his hands on his knees. He is wearing a bright red sweat suit and there are beads of perspiration dripping off his forehead. He looks up at me and speaks.

Hey, Kid.

Hey, Leonard.

How’s your Girl?

I smile.

Very good.

You have a good night?

Yeah.

You in love?

Yeah.

You tell her?

Yeah.

He smiles. Large and wide.

That’s beautiful.

I smile again. Large and wide.

Yeah.

He takes his hands from his knees, stands.

How things been with your Parents?

They’re good.

You getting along?

Yeah, we are.

He smiles.

Good, ’cause you’ll regret it if you fuck this up with them. Family is the most important thing you’ll ever have.

I hear you.

I’m proud of you, Kid. It seems like you’re doing all the right things.

I’m trying.

You keep this up and I’m not gonna have to watch out for you anymore.

I didn’t know I asked you to watch out for me.

Doesn’t matter if you asked me or not. All that matters is that I’m doing it, whether you like it or not.

I laugh.

I’m gonna go shower, get ready for the day. Meet me here in twenty minutes. We’ll have coffee and get breakfast.

Okay.

He walks away. I walk to my room. I open the door Miles is not here nor is his clarinet nor is the copy of the Tao. I take off my clothes walk to the Bathroom turn on the shower get under the water wash myself. The water is hot, but not too hot. It is comfortable. It feels good.

I turn off the shower step out of it walk to the sink and I brush my teeth and I shave. I look at the scar where there once was a hole. It is pink, lighter than the rest of my skin, it is healing. I look at my nose, there is a slight bump along its ridge, it is healed. I look at the area around and beneath my eyes, the swelling is gone, the yellow fade of damage is gone. There are gray rings beneath but they are from lack of sleep not injury. My eyes have healed. On the outside.

I start to look up at them. The whites are white and lined with the pink run of thin veins. I follow the veins to the edge of the green. It is pale like a faded olive with small dots of brown spread few and far between. I stay at the edge of the green, hold there. I can see into myself and I am comfortable with what I see. It is not too deep. The depths are where reality lives. On the edge there are only flashes of it. I start to move up, move deeper, see more. Moving becomes harder and the edge disappears into the black of a pupil surrounded. The black where all is revealed. I see it for the slightest second, I see the deepest black surrounded by pale green. I look away.

I walk out of the bathroom. I put on my clothes and I leave my Room. Bobby and the man I know but not from where are sitting at a table on the Upper Level. They are staring at me. I ignore them. I get a cup of coffee and I take a sip. It’s hot, it burns my mouth, and it is strong. I feel it immediately. It makes the night and the weariness of a night without sleep disappear. My heart starts beating faster. Even weak drugs make the weariness of a night without sleep disappear.

I turn around. Bobby and the man are still staring at me. I start to walk past them when the man speaks.

You don’t remember me, do you?

I stop and I turn around and I look at him. He is wearing black again. Black sweatpants with white stripes down the sides and a black T-shirt. His hair is short and dirty and spiked, his face is marked with acne scars. His eyes are dull and brown and his arms are lined with purple-black tracks.

No, I don’t.

I told you to remember me, I’m disappointed you don’t.

Sorry.

I hear you’re with Lilly.

Where do you hear that?

Does it matter?

No.

Then don’t ask me.

Where do I know you from?

I met you a few weeks ago.

I was here a few weeks ago.

So was I.

I step forward, stare at the man, search my memory. Although it is dim and obscure, it comes. I remember watching television. I remember him dragging me across the floor. I remember him whispering in my ear. I remember him telling me he could have hurt me. I was drugged and helpless. He could have hurt me.

I remember now.

He smiles.

Good Boy.

Don’t call me that.

You gonna do something if I do?

I might.

After your last performance, I’m real scared.

I step forward.

Try me now.

He smiles.

I’m not here to fight you.

Then what do you want?

To tell you about Lilly.

What do you want to tell me about her?

Some things you should know.

What?

He leans back and smiles and lights a cigarette. I stand and I wait. Bobby is staring at me and smiling like a strangler whose hands have found a neck. I feel a presence near me and I look to my side and I see Leonard standing a few feet away. Although he hasn’t heard the conversation, I can tell by his expression that he knows something unpleasant is about to happen. The man looks at me and he speaks.

I know Lilly from home. She used to run around with my best Buddy and he used to share her. He’d bring her to parties and get her all wasted and put her in a room and let guys fuck her if they gave him drugs. She loved it because it meant free rock and a handful of pills and a night full of dick, which, as I’m sure you know by now, she loves more than anything.

He stares at me. He laughs.

I did her a few times myself. She has that nice little body and those big, fat lips and she knows how to use them, and she’ll let you do just about anything to her. Her Boy, my Buddy, got in a jam with a Dealer. You could say he overextended his credit. The Dealer agreed to let him off the hook if he gave Lilly to him and my Buddy made the deal. He didn’t really give a shit about her, I guess because it’s hard to respect a whore, so without her knowing why, he took her to the Dealer’s House. When they got there, she started smoking crack and took a bunch of Valium and got all trashed. Then the Dealer’s friends came over.

Bobby laughs. The man smiles and takes a drag of his cigarette and he stares at me and I stare back. I can feel the Fury rising. Unlike most of the episodes with it, it is not directing its rage and anger and urge to destroy at me, but at him. I can feel it. The Fury rising.

From there it got ugly. Fifteen guys got in line and they put Lilly facedown on the floor and they started fucking her. They fucked her mouth, fucked her pussy, fucked her in the ass, fucked her everywhere and in every way you could imagine. All fifteen of them fucked her, a few more than once, and not one of them wore a rubber. They came all over her. On her back and her stomach, in her hair and on her face, in every fucking hole she’s got.

Bobby laughs again.

About two guys in she tried to get up and leave, but they wouldn’t let her. They held her down and they laughed at her and they fucked her. One after another after another, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it, and after they were done, and she was screaming and crying and going fucking crazy, she tried to gather up her clothes, but they wouldn’t give them to her. They gave her a trash bag instead, one of those big, black plastic ones, and they cut two armholes in the side, and they made her put it on. Then the Dealer opened up the door and he grabbed her by the hair and he threw her out, just like a piece of fucking garbage.

Bobby laughs louder, bangs his hand on the table. The man looks at him and smiles, looks back at me.

From what I know, she came up here straight after that. Jumped in a car with her batty old Grandma and drove as fast as she fucking could. I think she met you a few days later. If I were you, I’d be careful. That Girl’s got some dangerous shit floating around inside of her, and if she hasn’t already, she’ll probably give you something that’ll make your goddamn dick fall off.

The man smiles at me. He stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray. I hear Bobby laughing, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him his raise his hand. The man chuckles and hits it, as if receiving thanks for the words he has spoken. I clench my jaw. I stare at the man. The Fury is up. It is at full strength I want to kill kill kill. I don’t care that Lilly has done whatever she has done. Her sins, if there are any, are not to be judged by me. I care that this man has defiled her. Not in body, but in name. I care that he has spoken of her as if she were a piece of meat, as if she were less than human, as if she were something to be degraded and debased by him and others. The Fury is at full strength. I want to kill kill kill. I step forward.

Why’d you tell me that story?

Because I felt like it.

Because you felt like it?

Yeah.

Lilly’s had a brutal fucking life. She doesn’t need to have you talking shit about her.

You gonna give me a fucking Lecture?

Did it make you feel better about yourself to tell me that?

What?

Did it make you feel like more of a man, like you had some power over me or her?

Fuck you.

Did it make you feel like you were different from her, even though you know you’re not, or did it make you feel good, even though deep inside you feel like a piece of shit?

Fuck you.

Did it?

Fuck you.

I step forward.

Last time we met, you let me slide. I’m gonna let you slide now. But if you ever speak of her again, I will replace you and I will fucking destroy you.

You threatening me?

I’m warning you.

I’m real scared.

Try me now.

Fuck you and your dirtbag whore. Fuck you both.

Bobby laughs. The man stares at me and I stare back. I drop the cup of coffee I am holding in my hand it hits the ground it distracts him and as soon as he looks I’m on him. I grab his hair and jerk his head back and press my thumb into his neck just below his Adam’s apple. I press hard. The flesh is soft and my thumb sinks deep and he starts gagging, choking, losing breath, suffering. Out of the corner of my eye I see Bobby step out of his chair and start to move I see Leonard step forward and push him and I hear something I don’t know what I hear. Leonard says something and Bobby immediately stops. I see Leonard lean toward Bobby and I see his mouth move more words that I cannot hear. Bobby sits down.

I press. Into the soft flesh. I look into the man’s eyes. I let him know that I could kill him. He is gagging. Choking. Losing breath. Suffering. He is helpless. He knows it and I know it. His life is in my hands. I am looking into his eyes. I speak.

If you ever say another thing about her, I will kill you.

I press harder.

I will fucking kill you.

I press harder.

I will fucking kill you.

I let go. Step away. The man starts coughing. Clutching his throat. Breathing and taking as much air as he can as fast as he can. He’s hacking, spitting, gagging. I could have killed him. I wanted to kill him. I take two steps toward Bobby, who is sitting on his chair. He is pale, white, gray, sick, as if the Reaper has told him the end is coming. I spit in his face. I wait for a reaction, but there is none. He just stares straight ahead. I don’t know what Leonard told him, but I know there will be no more words. There will be no words from either of them.

I walk out of the Unit and I walk down the Hall. I’m shaking with rage and the afterburn of fear. I’m shaking with horror and the residual rush of violence. I’m shaking with adrenaline. I’m shaking with the Fury like I have never felt it before. The Fury raised to defend someone I love. Greater than I have ever felt it before.

I want a door. I see a door. I hit the door and I’m out the door. Into the cold, gray morning. Into the wet, heavy air. I clench my jaw my fist the muscles in my chest. I clench everything tight. I breathe through my nose as deeply as I can. The wet, heavy air. I can feel it soaking into my cells I can feel my cells draining it. I can feel my cells draining me.

The door opens and Leonard steps out. He doesn’t say a word just lets me breathe. The breathing empties me and the need to clench fades. The Fury fades. I have done what I could what I felt was right. The violence was unfortunate but the unfortunate was necessary. Sometimes skulls are thick. Sometimes hearts are vacant. Sometimes words don’t work. The violence was necessary.

I take a last breath the final the deepest and I let it out. I look at Leonard and he speaks.

You okay?

Yeah.

You know what they said doesn’t matter.

I know.

And you know it probably isn’t true.

It’s true. I know it’s true.

How do you know that?

I just know it is.

Doesn’t matter anyway.

I know.

That you love her is all that matters.

Yeah.

Don’t forget it, Kid. Love is all that matters.

I nod.

Yeah.

He puts his hand on my shoulder.

I’m proud of you for what you did in there.

I guess.

You gave him a chance and then you let him off. Those are two things I never do. You also sent the message, crystal fucking clear.

I chuckle.

What’d you say to Bobby?

I told him my name. My full name.

I laugh.

That’s it?

Leonard nods.

It’s more complicated than you think, but yeah, that’s it.

Thanks for backing me up.

Always.

I owe you one.

You don’t.

I do.

He shakes his head.

You don’t.

I motion to the door.

Let’s go to breakfast.

We walk back inside through the Halls down the Corridor. I look for Lilly she is not there. We get in line a plate of eggs and beans we replace our friends. They have heard about my confrontation, I don’t want to talk about it. We talk about Ed’s departure. Ted is near tears. We write down our names and our addresses and our phone numbers on a piece of paper. Only Miles and Leonard have permanent ones. The rest give what we can and hope that they work. We hope that Ed will survive long enough to call. We wish him luck. We tell him everything is going to be okay.

We finish. I have watched for Lilly and she hasn’t come. My friends go to the Lecture, I go to Joanne’s Office. The door is cracked and it is open enough so that I can hear voices. I walk in, my Parents are on the couch, they rise to greet me. We hug each other and we sit down. I say hello to Joanne and she speaks.

There’s been a change of plan.

What?

My Father speaks.

We’re having to leave early.

Why?

Business emergency.

Same thing as yesterday?

Yes.

I look away for a moment and the Fury flares. As has been the case throughout my life, my Father’s job comes first before everything always. I stare at the wall the white wall I do not like it but I cannot change it. The white wall. Nor can I change my Father or his position he has always done the best he could for all of us. Me and my Brother and my Mother. He has always done the best he could and he has given us plenty. He is what he is, he does what he does. I cannot change it and after all they have given me, all they have forgiven me, I can forgive this and accept them leaving early. My Mother speaks.

We’re sorry, James.

Don’t be sorry, Mom.

We wanted to stay for the whole time.

I’m lucky to have Parents willing to come here at all.

She smiles. It is an insecure smile, one looking for validation.

Are you sure?

I nod.

Let’s do what we can with the time we’ve got.

Joanne speaks.

Normally we wouldn’t deal with this right now, but your Parents and I would like to talk about the future.

It’s very bright.

Is that a joke?

Yes and no.

Why yes?

Because I’m going to Prison.

We don’t know that for sure yet, but okay. Why no?

Because I’m starting over and I’m thankful for the chance.

So what do you do when you leave here?

I go and I do my time and I keep to myself. I try to survive and I try to remain human. I get out and I get a job and I see what happens.

How do you stay sober?

I’ll be locked up and I won’t have any money. Shouldn’t be that hard.

You can get drugs in Prison.

Maybe, but I don’t want them.

You think it will be that easy?

I think I’ll have more serious worries than staying sober.

Joanne speaks.

What if you don’t go to Prison?

I’ll move to Chicago and I’ll get a job and I’ll try to be happy.

What about a Halfway House?

No.

Why?

We’ve talked about this already.

Joanne looks at my Parents. My Parents look at each other. My Father speaks.

Don’t you think that type of environment might be good for you?

I don’t believe in Higher Powers and the Twelve Steps or anything related to them, and that is all they teach in Halfway Houses. It’ll be a waste of my time.

My Mother speaks.

If you don’t believe in those things, how are you going to stay sober?

Every time I want to drink or do drugs, I’m going to make the decision not to do them. I’ll keep making that decision until it’s no longer a decision, but a way of life.

What if you can’t do that?

As soon as I get out of here, I’m going to go replace a way to test myself, either in the presence of alcohol or drugs or both, to make sure that I can.

Joanne takes a deep breath, shakes her head.

I have been trying to talk James out of this idea. It’s an incredibly risky plan, and the probability of relapse is astronomical. The stakes are way too high.

My Father speaks.

I don’t like the idea either, James.

My Mother speaks.

I don’t either.

No offense to any of you, but this is entirely my decision.

My Father speaks.

What if you relapse?

I won’t.

What if you do?

I won’t.

Why are you so confident?

I just believe, simple as that, and I don’t want to spend the rest of our time together trying to persuade you. Whatever is in the future is in the future and will be handled as necessary. Let’s move on.

My Mother looks at my Father, my Father looks at Joanne. My Father nods, Joanne speaks.

Let’s talk about your relationship.

I look at my Parents, they look at me.

How is everyone feeling about it?

My Father speaks.

Very positive.

My Mother speaks.

Much better.

I speak.

We’re getting there.

Joanne smiles. It is a big, genuine smile. She looks at my Father.

Why?

I feel like I haven’t known James for a very long time, if I ever knew him at all. That has been very difficult, being a Father to a Son who was essentially a Stranger. I have never understood why he has been the way he has been or why he has had all the problems that he has had. I have never understood why he hasn’t let his Mother and me into his life and why he seemed to harbor such intense anger toward us. For me, the best part of this experience has been the feeling that I have gotten my Son back, gotten to know who he is and why he is that way, and I have started to come to terms with our past and his past. I’m hoping that past is behind us.

Joanne nods, looks to my Mother. My Mother smiles.

I feel the same way as Bob about not knowing James, and as hard as it has been to learn about him and some of the things he has done, I’m happy that at least we know. He also seems less angry since he’s been here. Even over the course of the past few days, he seems less angry. It has always been difficult dealing with that anger and knowing he was so angry at us and not understanding why. I feel like there is a connection between us now, like we are actually a Family, and I haven’t felt that for a long time.

Her eyes start to tear. She looks at me.

I’m proud of you, James. I want you to stay alive and be happy and that’s it. However you want to do it, just stay alive and try to be happy.

Thanks, Mom.

Joanne looks at me.

James.

I take a deep breath.

I didn’t want you guys to come here. I didn’t want you to see me here in the state that I was in and I am in, because, on a certain level, I’m ashamed to be here. I know I’ve always been a disappointment to you. I think I’ve always kept things from you because I knew if you knew them, they would hurt you. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and if you knew, you would have tried to change me, and I didn’t want to change. It was good admitting all of that shit to you. I think you were amazingly cool with everything while you have been here. I was expecting yelling and screaming and Lectures, and I was expecting you to try and impose a bunch of Rules on me, which I wouldn’t have accepted. I’m happy there wasn’t any of that, and I’m happy that you came.

My Parents both smile. Joanne smiles.

How do you see your relationship functioning from here?

I speak.

I think it’s important that my Parents leave me alone. When I say that I don’t mean that I don’t want them in my life, because I do, but I would like my life to be my own and I need to be entirely responsible for what it is and what it becomes.

I look at my Parents.

I won’t hide things from you, but if I tell you I don’t want to talk about something, leave it alone. When I make mistakes, I don’t want to be lectured about them. I don’t want you to give me money anymore. I want to support myself in whatever way I can, and I want to have to live on that. The last thing, and most important thing, is if I relapse, you can’t Bail me out again. This is my last chance. I need it to be that way because if I know there’s a safety net, I’ll use it. If I know there’s not, the decisions I’m going to face are going to be easier for me to make because I’ll know that if I make the wrong one, there will be no coming back.

My Parents stare at me. Joanne stares at me. My Father speaks.

I think leaving you alone will be hard for us because you’re just starting to come back to us. I think, though, that we can try. I think it will be important for you to define, as we go along, what leaving you alone means. If it means not talking to you or not keeping in good touch with you, I don’t like that. If it means talking and being honest about what’s going on in your life, but trying to reserve judgment and trying to let you make your own mistakes, I think it is a good idea. If you don’t want money from us anymore, that’s fine, but the idea of not helping you if you stumble is one that scares me. We’ve learned here that most People do stumble and do relapse, and I don’t like the idea of not trying to help you if that happens. We want you to live a productive life. We don’t care if it takes fifty times in places like this to make that happen.

My Mother speaks.

I just don’t want you to hide things from us anymore or think that you can’t share things with us. Your Father and I only want the best for you, and want you to be happy in your life, and whatever we need to do to help make that happen, we’ll do. All I want is to be a part of your life and have you include us in it. I can tell you that if you do relapse, I’m going to continue to try and help you. Like your Father said, if it takes fifty times, that’s fine. I’ll be here fifty times.

Joanne speaks.

After Prison, what are you going to do once you’re on your own?

I’m going to go to Chicago. I’m going to get a job. I’m going to try and survive and be happy. That’s all I really want, to survive and be happy.

My Father speaks.

Why Chicago?

I motion toward Joanne.

I don’t know if I can talk about it in front of her.

Joanne laughs.

Go ahead, there aren’t many Rules we haven’t already broken.

I smile.

I’m going to Chicago because Lilly, that girl I told you about, is going to be in Chicago. I want to be with her.

Joanne shakes her head.

Is there anything I can say?

I shake my head.

No.

My Father speaks.

What’s she going to be doing in Chicago?

She’s going to a Halfway House.

My Mother speaks.

You wouldn’t want to go with her?

No.

My Father speaks.

What will she do if you’re in Jail?

I haven’t talked with her about it, but I’m hoping whichever one of us gets out first will replace a place for both of us to live.

Joanne speaks.

And then what?

We’ll live with each other and help each other. We’ll do the best we can for each other.

My Mother speaks.

That sounds nice.

I think it will be.

Are you going to get married?

You’re way ahead of yourself, Mom.

She smiles and she laughs and my Father squeezes her hand. Joanne smiles, though I can see her trying to hold it back. She looks at her watch, speaks.

I think it’s about time.

My Father looks at his watch, nods.

It looks like it.

He stands, my Mother stands. My Father looks at Joanne.

Before we leave, I just wanted to say thank you. This would not have been the experience it has been without you, and we, as a Family, owe you a great amount of credit for that. If there is anything we can ever do to repay you, please do not hesitate to ask.

Joanne smiles.

After seeing you together a few days ago, seeing you today is all the thanks I need.

My Mother speaks. As she does, her eyes start to tear.

Thank you, Joanne.

Certainly, Lynne.

My Mother walks around her desk and Joanne stands. They hug each other strong and true in the way that only women can hug each other. There is no hesitation between them and there is no distance. No emotional distance, no physical distance, no distance of any kind.

They separate and my Father shakes Joanne’s hand and he thanks her again and I thank her and I walk with my Parents to the Room in the Family Center where they have been sleeping. We get their bags and we get their jackets. We walk back through the Halls to the Front Entrance of the Clinic. We step outside and there is a Car waiting. A long, black Car with black windows. We set down the bags. My Father speaks.

This has been a great experience. I am very proud of you for being here and for trying as hard as you are. Obviously there are still some problems and some issues to be worked out, but I feel very good about everything. Please call us when you hear from the Lawyer and please call us if you need anything or we can help in any way and please call us just to say hi and let us know how you’re doing.

I will.

I love you, James.

I love you too, Dad.

A tear appears in the corner of my Father’s eye. He doesn’t wipe it and it runs down his cheek. He steps forward and he hugs me and I hug him. There is discomfort and the Fury, but I ignore them.

We separate and my Mother steps toward me. Her eyes are tearing again I used to hate her crying I don’t now. She feels and she cries. It is to be admired. She puts her arms around me I put mine around her. We hug each other she holds me like I am her Baby. I am not anymore, but I still am.

We hug each other and I fight the Fury. It cannot beat me or control me right now. My Mother hugs me in a way that lets me know I am forgiven and that she wants me to live and be happy. I hug her in a way that lets her know I am trying to be different and I am trying to be stronger than my rage. We are trying to forgive.

We separate and she looks at me and she tries to speak, but she can’t. My Father opens the door of the Car and she steps toward it and she sits down on the black leather seat. She is crying and she is smiling. She raises a hand to say good-bye. I raise mine.

My Father, who is standing next to the door, looks at me and speaks.

Keep up the good work.

I will.

He climbs into the car next to my Mother and he shuts the door. The Car pulls away down the wooded drive that leads in and out of the Clinic. I can’t see through the darkened windows, but I know my Parents are watching me and I stand and I watch them. We are a Family saying good-bye. For now good-bye.

When the Car is gone from view and my Parents away, I turn and I go back into the Clinic. It is time for lunch, so I walk to the Dining Hall. I get a tray and a plate of French-bread pizza and a glass of red fruit punch and I see my friends in one of the corners. I sit down with them.

They are talking about fighting. My fight this morning and the Heavyweight Championship, which is a few nights from now. They ask me what happened this morning I tell them it was not really a fight it was more of a discussion that got heated. Leonard laughs. They ask me what the man said to me and I tell them I don’t want to talk to about it. They ask me if I am going to go after him again and I tell them that I hope that the entire situation goes away.

We talk about the real fight. Leonard and Matty know the most about it, so they do most of the talking. Matty likes the smaller of the Heavyweights, who is still a very large man, Leonard likes the bigger Heavyweight, who is massive. The men have fought twice previously, with each of them winning one of the fights, and they don’t like each or respect each other, and each have promised a knockout this time. We want to see the fight. All of us want to see it. We want to see it because we like sports and we like boxing, because all of the newspapers and television sports shows have been running stories about it, because it will be something to talk about after it is over, and mostly we want to see it because it would allow us, if only for a couple of hours, to feel normal.

In here, anything resembling normalcy is coveted. The phone is always busy because men want to be in contact with the normal outside world. Letters are eagerly awaited and opened because they are physical contact with it. Television is watched and newspapers are read obsessively because they give us glimpses, magazines are thumbed until the pages fall apart. Our Jobs here, as stupid and menial as they may be, allow us to pretend that we are, if even for just a few minutes a day, just like other people. That is why the Jobs get done. Not because we are told to do them, for most of us have spent our lives doing everything but that which we have been told to do, but because the Jobs make us feel normal. Normal people have Jobs. For a few minutes a day, we get to pretend.

All of us started out normal. All of us started out as functioning human beings with the potential to do almost anything we wanted, but somewhere along the paths of our lives, we got lost. Though we are here at this Clinic trying to replace our way back, we all know that most of us will never get there. Things like the fight allow us to dream, and take us away from here, and allow us to imagine what the normal World must be like and how normal people must live in it. Normal men would make plans with their friends to watch the fight. They would choose a location with room to sit down and a large television. They would show up. They would have some food and a few drinks before the fight began, and they would be able to stop drinking before they blacked out or became violent. They would have their favorite fighter. They would be able to talk and they would debate with each other about his strengths and weaknesses. They would be conscious enough to watch the fight, and they would cheer or groan depending on the outcome. When it was over they would go Home and they would be in a condition to walk or to drive, and if they were lucky, they would have a Wife to kiss or a sleeping Child to check, and they would go to bed. When they woke the next day, they would remember the night before, and they would continue with their life. Their normal, beautiful life.

Everyone here, male or female, Crackhead or Drunk or Junkie, rich or poor or black or white, would give everything we have ever had and everything we will ever have, if only we could be normal. Things like the fight, the silly, stupid, soon forgotten fight, would afford us the opportunity. We want to watch it. We would love to watch it. We would give anything to watch it, but the television here will not carry it. It requires a special cable system with a special box. The type available in the outside World.

We finish eating. We stand and we put our trays away. We walk to the Lecture and we sit in the back row. I look for Lilly she is not here. I wish she were so that I could watch her instead of listening to the Lecture. So I could look at her and let time fade away. So that she could look at me and I could feel the love I felt earlier. In her arms. In her eyes. In her words. I want it again.

A male Doctor wearing glasses and khakis and a white lab coat steps in front of the lectern and he starts speaking. The subject is the concept of cross-addiction. In the simplest terms, cross-addiction means that if you’re Addicted to one substance or means of behavior, a substance such as heroin or means of behavior like gambling, you are Addicted to all substances and means of behavior. Recovery from any of them means abstinence from all of them. If you use or do something other than your drug of choice or behavior of choice, you will most likely become addicted to it, and you will also most likely relapse back to the original addiction. The Doctor talks about being constantly and consistently self-aware in order to guard against the perils of cross-addiction. He says smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee are fine, because they are more habit than addiction, but beyond them, be careful how you eat, how you conduct yourself sexually, be careful not to gamble or spend too much money shopping, be careful of linking yourself to people who do these things, stay away from places where they are done, and be on constant alert. For the rest of your life. Constant alert.

Though fundamentally sound in theory, in its practical application, what this Doctor is saying is too absurd to be taken seriously. Any Idiot, especially an Addicted Idiot, knows that if you do drugs or drink when you’re trying to stay sober, even if that drug or drink is not your chemical of choice, then you are probably going to get hooked on it. Any Idiot, especially an Addicted Idiot, knows that once you cross the line from use to abuse, and from abuse to addiction, that you can’t go back and start over with something else. To suggest that having sex or eating is dangerous and should be monitored is ridiculous. To suggest that buying something or spending money will lead me back to smoking cocaine is fucking dumb. To state that I need to be on guard against all manner of potential addiction all the time everywhere I go for the rest of my life is pathetic. I won’t live that way. It is fucking pathetic.

The Lecture ends and the Patients clap. I stand and I follow the rest of the men out of the Lecture Hall. We walk back to the Unit. As I pass my Room, I see a note on the door that says James Call Urgent and there is a number. I don’t recognize the number and I have never dialed it before, but I know it is a local number because of the area code. I take the note and I walk to the phone. The men are getting ready for the afternoon Session, so there is no line.

I open the door and I sit down and I dial the number. It rings once twice three times it rings. On the fourth ring a woman answers she says the name of Lilly’s Unit. I ask if Lilly is there. The woman asks who is this and I tell her a friend. I hear her drop the receiver. I wait a moment or two a couple of moments pass. I hear the receiver move I hear someone picking it up. I hear her voice. She’s been shattered. Shattered.

What’s wrong?

Where have you been?

I was at the Lecture.

I’ve been trying to call you.

I just got the message.

I need to see you.

What’s wrong?

I need to see you.

Tell me what’s wrong.

She starts to cry.

My Grandma.

What’s wrong?

My Grandma.

What’s wrong with her?

She breaks down and she starts to sob. It is heavy, horrible sobbing, the kind that hurts the body, that comes when the heart is overwhelmed. I can see her. Sitting in the Phone Booth eyes swollen, body shaking, tears running down her face.

I need to see you.

What’s wrong?

My Grandma.

Her voice breaks.

My Grandma’s going to die.

What?

She starts crying again.

I need to see you.

We can’t right now.

Why?

We’ll get caught.

I need to see you.

Wait till it’s dark.

I need to see you now.

What happened with her?

Please.

She’s crying. Crying. I know I shouldn’t go, but the sounds of her tears hurt me wreck me destroy me she’s crying. I know she needs me. It shouldn’t matter what or when or where we are, nothing should matter but her. She needs me. I told myself I would do anything for her. She’s crying and she needs me.

Meet me in the Clearing.

When?

I’ll leave as soon as we hang up.

Okay.

If you’re there before me, just wait. I’m coming as fast as I can.

Okay.

Everything is going to be all right.

It won’t.

It will.

She’s going to die, James.

We’ll get through it. Everything is going to be all right.

I love you.

I love you too.

She hangs up and I hang up. I open the door of the Phone Booth and I step out. The men have gathered on the Lower Level, the chairs are in a semicircle, and Lincoln is preparing to start the afternoon Session. He looks at me and he speaks.

You joining us?

I need to go outside, take a walk.

You think you can just skip things when you want to skip them?

I don’t want to, I need to.

Why?

Because I do.

Answer my question?

I need to go outside. Why is it your business?

Because I’m the Supervisor of this Unit.

Then supervise it. I’m going for a walk.

I open the sliding-glass door and I step outside and I start walking. I don’t pay any attention to my surroundings. I walk quickly I know my way. I don’t want her alone. She needs me.

I step into the Clearing she is there. Eyes swollen. Cheeks stained. Hands shaking. She has been crying for so long that she doesn’t know she’s crying anymore. She’s crying.

She steps forward and I step forward and she’s in my arms and I am holding her. She lays her head on my shoulder and she cries. She shakes. She holds me squeezes me presses herself against me as if I can absorb what she feels as if I can take it away. I can. I can absorb what she gives me take it from her and make it mine and let go of it. I can. I will take it and make it mine. Give it to me. I’ll let go of it. I can let go of it.

I guide her to the ground hold her let her cry. I whisper in her ear it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay. The words are nothing, just simple words, but they calm her down because she has never had someone tell her it’s okay before and she has never believed it. It’s okay it’s okay. I hold her in my arms and she believes me. It’s going be okay.

She calms down and she stops crying. She stays against my shoulder. I speak.

What happened?

She has cancer. It’s in her bones and her blood. There’s no cure.

You found out this morning?

Yes.

How long has she had it?

They found it last week. She was feeling sick, but she thought it would go away. She collapsed at work.

Why didn’t she tell you earlier?

She didn’t want to worry me.

Why’d she tell you this morning?

It’s worse than she thought. She figured the sooner the better.

How long’s she got?

Anywhere from two weeks to six months.

I hold her tighter.

I’m sorry.

She holds me tighter.

She’s all I’ve got.

You’ve got me.

I’m scared.

Don’t be.

What are we going to do?

Get through it.

How?

When I can I’ll come to Chicago and we’ll get a place together and we’ll be fine.

She pulls away slightly and she looks at me.

You’re going to come?

As soon I can.

When you leave here?

No.

Where are you going?

I’m going to Prison.

What?

I’m in some trouble. I’m going to have to go away for a while. I don’t know for how long right now, but as soon as I’m done, I’ll come to Chicago.

What’d you do?

I got in a fight with some Cops and I was drunk and I had some drugs on me.

Why didn’t you tell me?

I didn’t want you to worry until I knew what was happening.

You should have told me.

I know. I’m sorry.

How long will you be away?

I don’t know yet.

You should have told me.

I’m telling you now. I’ll come as soon as I can.

You’re all I’ve got, James. In the whole goddamn world, you’re all I’ve got.

You’ve got yourself.

I wish that were enough, but it’s not.

You may surprise yourself.

I’ve been alone my whole life. I can’t do it anymore.

You’re not going to have to.

She’s dying, James.

Everything is going to be okay.

I hear a noise. I turn toward the green. The noise is louder approaching fast. We start to stand, the noise is louder. Footsteps on leaf and dirt and broken branch we’re tangled and having trouble standing. It’s louder and we’re up. It’s louder and I look at Lilly. Louder and she takes my hand. It’s just outside the Clearing. She kisses me. It’s coming through. She looks me in the eye. It’s through. She says you’re all I’ve got.

The noise stops. I turn around. Lincoln is standing a few feet away from us. He speaks.

Ken took over for me. I thought I’d come see how you’re doing.

I’m doing fine.

No, you’re not. You’re not even close.

Depends on how you think of it.

I think of it according to the Rules of this Institution. You obviously don’t.

No, I don’t.

Let’s go, and not a word while we’re walking back.

I turn to Lilly, who is staring at Lincoln. Her stare is a mixture of defiance and fear and rage. Lincoln stares back at her and he tries to step between us. We are still holding hands and she pushes him away. He grabs her wrist and she holds my hand tighter and she stares at him and she speaks.

I’ll keep my mouth shut, but I’m not letting go.

You’re in no position to be making demands.

It’s not a demand, it’s the way it’s gonna be.

You broke the Rules, now you deal with it.

Fuck you and your Rules, I am dealing with it.

She stares at him and he stares back. I watch her and I am proud of her she breaks my heart I love her. They stare at each other. Her eyes are stronger than she knows. Lincoln can see what I can see she is not letting go of my hand. He can talk all day, try to pull us apart for as long he wants, she is not letting go of my hand.

Follow me.

He turns and he starts pushing through the green and we follow him. We hold hands and we stare straight ahead. Lincoln is moving quickly. He gets to the Trail and he stops and he waits for us. When we’re a few feet behind him, he starts walking again. The Trail leads us back to the green grass separating the Buildings from the Wood. As we get closer, we turn and we stare at each other. There are no words we just stare at each other and with each second Lilly’s eyes soften. They start to tear. I don’t want her to cry I don’t want her to go I don’t want her to be in trouble. I’ll take the blame if necessary they can kick me out and I’ll wait for her and I’ll be fine. She’s crying. Not sobbing just tears down her cheeks more tears. I wish I could take them and make them mine I don’t want her to cry not now not ever not ever again. She’s crying.

We reach the door. Lincoln opens it and we step inside. All of the men turn and stare. Lincoln closes the door and he steps in front of us and he speaks.

I’m taking her to her Unit. Go to your Room and wait there. It may be a while.

I nod.

Let’s go.

I look at Lilly and she looks at me. I pull my hand away and I put my arms around her. I whisper in her ear.

I love you. Remember that. I love you.

She holds me until Lincoln puts his hand on her shoulder. She steps away and he waits for her and she turns and they start walking up the stairs and I follow them. Everyone is staring at us. Ken and the men. Staring.

We enter the Hall I hate it fucking hate it they walk in front of me and I watch them. I stop walking when I reach my door, I just stand and I watch them. Lilly is a few feet in front of Lincoln. As she walks, she stares straight ahead. He stares at her back. There are no words. The Hall is silent.

As they near the end of the Hall, Lilly turns around and she looks back at me. All I see are her eyes, deep water blue and defiant, broken and lost, her eyes staring back at me. They are wet with tears. I don’t want to lose them they turn the corner and they’re gone. I stand at my door hoping she’ll come back, hoping this is all a nightmare, hoping for the sake of hoping. I stare down the Hall at the unforgiving white walls. Nothing changes.

I open my door and I step inside my Room. It is quiet and empty, exactly as it was when I left it this morning. I look at my bed and I think about sitting on it. I look at the Bathroom and I think about a shower. I look at the window and the gray light coming through it and I think of climbing out of it. I look at the walls. I would like to destroy them. I can only wait. For my fate to be decided, for Lincoln to come back. I can only wait.

The substance of what has happened sinks in to me. Not gradually, but all at once. I have the broken one of the Cardinal Rules of this Institution. I have broken it with impunity. I have fallen in love with a Girl, a beautiful and profoundly troubled Girl who is alone in the World and who has said she cannot live without me. I don’t want to stay here without her and if I leave, I have nowhere to go. She has nowhere to go. We could go back to her Grandmother, but her Grandmother will be dead soon. We can’t go to my Family, I have burdened them too much. We could run, but there’s nowhere to run. I am wanted, and sooner or later, I’ll get caught. When I am, I’ll be sent away, and it will be for far longer than three years. We are both Addicts. We both need to be here. We’re going to get kicked out. Both of us. Kicked out.

I think back on what has happened. I try to see what I did wrong. I try to rethink what I have done and replace a way that would have allowed me to avoid this situation. I could have ignored her the first day. I could have thrown away the note she gave me. I could have not spoken to her or not responded to her. I could have not called her back earlier or not left the Unit or not stayed in the Clearing when I met her. I didn’t do any of these things. If I had, I would not be in trouble, not be facing what I am. I don’t want to accept what has happened. I want to go back. I want to change it. Fuck me. We’re fucked.

I sit on my bed light a cigarette take a drag, a deep drag, as deep as I can take. I stare at the floor. My thoughts slow. I know I can’t change what has happened and I don’t regret it. I did what I did and I would do it again. I love her and love is more important than Rules or Regulations. I have learned more from it than I have from them. I have become better because of it. Fuck the Rules and Regulations.

I take another drag. My thoughts slow more. Two streams run simultaneous to each other. Drink. Lilly. Drugs. Lilly. Get fucked up. Lilly. They are independent of each other and they are intertwined. One is an overwhelming need for self-destruction, an overwhelming need to kill what I feel with chemicals. The other is of Lilly and where she is what she’s doing what she’s thinking is she okay. Who is with her and what are they saying to her. They overlap and run together because I need her and her absence and the pain I know she’s feeling fuels the need to kill what I feel.

I stand up. I sit down. I stand up. I sit down. My mind is telling my hands to go to take action to facilitate leaving here my mind is telling my hands it is time to leave. I sit on them. I sit on my hands. I feel like a complete Asshole, a weak pathetic Fuck. My mind is telling my hands to leave to get something anything to leave to get destroyed. I am sitting on them. I am sitting on my hands. I’m a weak, pathetic, Addicted Fuck.

My heart is telling me stay. To wait. To hold on. To have strength. To sit on my goddamn hands and defy them. Strength comes in defiance. Defy your mind your feelings your addictions. Defy them, you Motherfucker, defy them.

I sit on my bed sit on my hands close my eyes breathe let myself feel everything. I test my will. Can I sit and stay. Can I hold on. Am I strong enough. What the fuck am I doing. When will this end. End soon. Please. Hold the fuck on. End soon.

I sit and time stops disappears moves fast and slow each second more and less than a second. My hands shake beneath me. My eyes are closed and I am breathing slowly. Thoughts and feelings of panic and self-destruction and endurance and self-will run through and through and through.

Sit.

Stay.

Leave

No.

Drink.

Smoke.

Panic.

Panic.

Leave.

Stay.

Fucked.

Fucked.

Run.

Run.

Run.

Caught.

Eight years.

Maximum Security.

Lilly.

Where are you.

Lilly.

Where are you.

Use.

Drugs.

Drink.

Alcohol.

Kill.

Yourself.

Now.

No.

Without time. On my hands. Fighting myself. The thoughts change.

Use.

Fucking.

Drugs.

Drink.

Now.

You.

Motherfucker.

We.

Are.

Stronger.

Than.

You.

Will.

Ever.

Be.

Over and over. Over and over. Time has disappeared. I sit on my hands. I fight myself. Over and over. I fight myself. Over and over.

I start to cry. Not sobs just tears streaming down my face through my closed eyes. Tears from effort and tears from stress and tears from fear this is a fucking nightmare. Worse than a nightmare. Tears from holding on and tears from fighting and tears brought on by the prospect of death and by the prospect of a return to my old life. There are tears of love. Lilly’s love and the love of friends and Family love. There are tears because the Fury and the fear and the addiction want to beat me and I will not let them. They want to beat me and I will not let them.

Time is gone.

I cry.

It’s a fucking nightmare.

Worse.

Please end.

Please end.

Please end.

I hear the door. I open my eyes. It is dark now the gray is gone. The simple sound breaks the cycle. The simple sound of a door. Miles turns on the light sees me sitting there looks surprised.

Are you all right, James?

No.

Is there anything I can do for you?

No.

Have you been here since this afternoon?

Yeah.

Why are you sitting on your hands?

I don’t trust them.

I know that feeling.

Yeah?

I don’t sit on them, though. I squeeze them together.

I smile and I move my hands and I wipe my face and I set my hands on my lap. They are crossed with lines and they are blue from lack of blood. I shake them and they hurt. They tingle. They sting.

They okay?

I look up.

They hurt.

Try warm water.

That works?

Very well.

I nod and I stand. Miles walks to his bed and he sits down on it. I go into the Bathroom turn on the warm water put my hands in it and it burns them. Not because the water is warm but because my hands are cold. It stings them. The tingling feels like a nest of needles trying to escape. I hold them and they slowly warm. Go from blue to gray to white to pink to yellow to beige. I flex my fingers and they flex as they should. The pain goes away. I flex them and they’re fine.

I walk out of the Bathroom. Miles is sitting on the edge of his bed waiting for me.

Are you going to Dinner?

I’m supposed to stay here.

For how long?

I don’t know.

Would you like me to get you something to eat?

Sure.

What would you like?

Whatever’s easy.

Okay.

Thank you.

Anything I can help you with?

You know what time it is?

He looks at his watch.

Six-fifteen.

Thank you.

I walk to my bed. He stands and he walks to the door.

If you’re not here when I get back, I’ll leave whatever I bring you on your nightstand.

Thanks, Miles.

He walks out, closes the door behind him. I lie down on my bed I am cold I start to shake I climb under the covers. I curl into myself and I close my eyes and I bury my face into my chest and into the bed. I fall into a sleep where I am not asleep. A state of heavy consciousness neither aware nor unaware. My body relaxes my body shuts down my body rests. My mind slows, holds images, wishes, mistakes, reality. They are like thick surreal photographs. I look at them in my mind and they sit there. I am sleeping but not I’m not asleep. I am aware and unaware.

The door opens again I open my eyes. I lift my head and I see Lincoln standing under the door frame. There is light behind him he speaks.

Time to get up.

Okay.

Come to my Office when you’re ready.

Okay.

He turns and he leaves and he closes the door as he goes. I get out of bed and I walk to the Bathroom and I turn on the water and I splash some of the water over my face. It runs down my cheeks and over my lips and into my mouth and it tastes good. I lean over and I take a sip. Another another another. Straight from the faucet. It’s good.

I leave my Room and walk through the silent Hall. The Unit is empty, the men at Dinner. I go to the coffee machine and I get a cup and I take a sip and it immediately wakes me.

As I walk down the stairs, I start to get nervous. The coffee burns my stomach and I can feel my blood moving through my veins. My legs are unsteady, and I think about each step. In front of the other. In front of the other.

I cross the Lower Level walk into the short Hall leading to Lincoln’s Office. The Hall is dark, though there is light at the end where his door is open. I think about each step. As I enter his Office, I have to think about each step. He is sitting behind his desk.

Shut the door.

I turn and I shut the door. I turn back and he motions to a chair across from him. I sit and he leans back in his chair and he stares at me. I stare back.

If it were up to me you’d be gone. I don’t like your attitude, and I don’t think you’ve made much of an effort, and I think your continued resistance to what we try to do here, which is help People, has been detrimental to both the Unit and to yourself.

He stares. I stare back.

That being said, you’re being given another chance. If you behave and work hard and follow the Rules, you will be able to stay until your Program runs its course. If you violate any of the Rules, even something as simple as not doing your morning Job or saying anything more than hello to any woman not on our Staff, you will be asked to leave. You think you can do that?

I smile. I’m relieved.

Yes, I can. Thank you.

Don’t thank me, I wanted you out. Thank Joanne. Just like before, she’s the one who saved you.

Thanks anyway.

You can go now.

He looks down at some papers on his desk. I wait. When he looks up, I speak.

Is Lilly staying?

No, she’s not.

My relief disappears.

You kicked her out?

Panic returns.

When we told her she wouldn’t be allowed to see you anymore, she walked out.

You didn’t stop her?

When people want to leave, we let them leave. Our Job is to help people who want to stay and be helped.

What if I told you I knew where she was going?

Doesn’t matter.

I know where she’s going. I could get her and bring her back.

He chuckles, and instantly the panic is gone. The Fury rises.

Why’s that funny?

We discourage relationships because they generally turn out this way. People think they can solve each other’s problems, and it’s just not the case. I hope this will teach you a lesson.

What’s that supposed to mean?

We know what we’re doing here. We have Rules for a reason. Maybe you’ll listen a bit better from now on.

Fuck you.

What did you say?

She’s a Person, not a fucking lesson.

What did you just say to me?

I said fuck you, you fucking Asshole. She’s not a fucking lesson.

One more remark like that and you’re out of here.

You think I want to stay here now?

If you want to stay sober you will.

I’m not gonna stay in a place where Assholes like you say that their Job is to help People, but when someone needs help most, you deny it to them because they believe in something different than you or need a different kind of help than what you think is right.

Do what you need to do.

I will, and I’m gonna stay clean doing it, if for no other reason than to be able to come back here and show your self-righteous ass that your way isn’t the only way.

Good luck.

Fuck you.

I stand and I leave. I walk through the Unit and I go to my Room. I grab the little book the Tao put on my warmest clothes a sweater two pairs of socks another pair of socks over my hands. It’s cold I can see it through the window. I leave my Room good-bye good-bye good-bye. I walk through the Halls I will never have to see these fucking Halls again fuck you good-bye. I walk through the Reception Area hit the front door I am out of the Clinic. Fuck you and good-bye. I am out.

I start walking. It’s cold and dark, there’s no light and no Moon. I follow the road the one road in the one road out. I see the outlines of trees and the mist of my breath. I hear rocks and gravel crush beneath my feet.

I don’t remember coming in, it was so long ago, but I know this road ends on a larger road. There will be cars on the larger road. I will try to get a ride. Locals will know where I’m from and they won’t pick me up, but Trucks might pick me up or people passing through on their way somewhere else might pick me up. My face is healed. I don’t look like the image of an Alcoholic and a drug Addict and a Criminal anymore. I look normal though I’m not. A Truck might pick me up or someone passing through might pick me up. The locals won’t get near me. They will know what I am.

The road curves away and the last light of the Clinic disappears behind me. It is pitch black and it is quiet and I like it. I have been away from the night and from the darkest darkness for too long. I know them well I am Home now and the feelings of Home and the Fury of Home come back to me. They all come back.

There is noise behind and noise ahead. The noise behind is a Car or Truck coming down the road, coming toward me. The noise ahead is the noise of vehicles moving fast on a long smooth road. I want the noise ahead. That is noise I need. I am through with all that behind me. Fuck you and good-bye.

I start running. I am out of shape and the cold air burns my lungs. I run along the edge of asphalt and the trees, I run as fast as I can knowing the distance I need to cover. It is not far. Not far, but far for me. Each deep breath of the cold black air hurts my lungs. I’m twenty-three. I can hardly run.

I make it to the larger road. The lights of passing vehicles streak across long, wide fields. I know the nearest City is to the west. Lilly is in the City and the west is to the left. I sprint across the road and I turn left and I start walking. I watch for a vehicle and I wait to lift my thumb.

A white Van pulls up at the end of the road leading to the Clinic and flashes its lights. Whoever is in the Van can go fuck themselves. It pulls out and it makes a left and it drives toward me.

As it approaches, the window on the passenger’s side slides down. The Van pulls alongside me and I feel someone staring at me they wait for me to acknowledge them. I don’t. I walk with my eyes fixed and focused. The City is somewhere in front of me. Above the murmur of the engine, I hear a voice.

Hey, Kid. You forgot something.

It is a voice I know, a voice I like, a voice I trust, a voice that held me when I couldn’t stand. I look at the Van and I look through the lowered window. Lincoln is sitting in the passenger’s seat. He is staring at me. Hank is sitting in the driver’s seat. Hank is holding his coat. The coat he lent me the coat I left in my Room. He is smiling at me.

You’re gonna freeze your ass off without this.

I smile.

How you doing, Old-timer?

Good. How you doing?

I’m in a hurry.

Where you going?

To replace a friend.

Jump in and get warm for a minute.

I don’t mind the cold.

Jump in.

No thanks.

Lincoln speaks.

Get in.

I stop walking and Hank stops the Van. I stare at Lincoln and he stares at me.

I’m not going back.

Get in the Van.

Fuck you.

You want to replace her?

Yeah.

Then get in the goddamn Van.

I stare at him and he stares at me. His eyes are cold and dark and dull, but there is truth in them. I step toward the door and he reaches over his shoulder and he unlocks it. I open it and I step inside the Van and I close the door behind me. The heaters are blowing and it is warm. Hank tosses me his jacket and I put it on. He speaks.

Where we headed?

Bus Station in Minneapolis.

We in a hurry?

I look at Lincoln. He stares straight ahead.

What time did she leave?

He speaks monotone.

About four.

I look at Hank.

Yeah, we’re in a hurry.

He smiles and the Van jumps as he drops his foot. The Cornfields become a dull ugly blur, the wind becomes a shriek, the road a cylinder of moving light and yellow lines leading toward replaceing Lilly. I sit and I stare out the window and I smoke cigarettes. Lincoln stares straight ahead, taking deep breaths through his nose and occasionally cracking his knuckles. Hank replaces a country-western station on the radio and he sings along with every song. If he doesn’t know the words, he makes up his own, usually having to do with hockey or fishing. There is no conversation.

The glow of the City rises. We pull off the Highway and down an Exit Ramp into a crowded center of towering steel and glass. People hurry through the streets, the Restaurants and Bars are crowded and busy. Cars honk and Trucks sit waiting on Loading Docks, Cabs search for Passengers. Hank makes a turn and we pass a huge Sports Arena with a flashing sign announcing Game Night. We pull around a jammed Parking Lot, and the far side of it, next to a boarded Building and run-down Motel, is the Bus Station.

The last quarter mile takes an hour, a week, a year, a lifetime. I know we’re moving quickly, but quickly isn’t good enough. My legs are bouncing up and down and I am anxious and nervous and scared. I feel the way I felt when I was ten and I borrowed my Father’s watch without asking him. I lost it on a Beach. I discovered the loss on my bike ride home and I returned to the Beach and searched the sand for hours and hours. I searched on my hands and knees. I feel the way I felt when an ounce of cocaine disappeared in my Room. I tore the Room apart flipped the bed emptied drawers went through all my clothes. I went through everything. I never found the watch. I found the cocaine.

As we pull up to the Entrance I open the Van door before it stops. I hit the ground running. I push past the men standing outside with cups begging change. I ignore the smell of piss and smoke. I push open the doors they are old and heavy and I’m inside the Station.

It is a typical inner-city Bus Station. There is one giant Room with dull fluorescent lights hanging from wires, Ticket Windows built into three walls, multiple Exits leading to the buses, Aisles of worn wooden benches bolted to the floor. It is not crowded, but it is not empty. There are drug Dealers, pimps, homeless men and women sleeping on benches, drifters, runaways. I am at ease among them.

I start scanning the benches. I want to replace her, I don’t care how or where, I just want to replace her. I walk up and down the Aisles. I pull blankets off bodies. I roll people over so I can see their faces. I look in sleeping bags, I offer smokes for information. I can’t replace her. I get nothing, nobody knows a thing. I can’t replace her.

I go to the Ticket Windows. I go to all three of them. The Clerks are bored and annoyed, busy watching black-and-white televisions with poor reception. I describe her to them and I ask if they have seen her. They say they have not. I ask again, but the game shows and the soap operas are too important for them to care. They say they have not seen her. They tell me without looking at me.

I walk back to the Entrance. I know she is either here or she has been here. I know someone has seen her. I examine each person examine them closely. She would avoid the pimps because she could make her money without them. The Dealers I have seen don’t deal what she uses they offered me pot or meth or low-grade smack. Her goal would be to get high or get Home. I know she is either here or she has been here. I know someone has seen her. I know. I stare. I know. Stare.

I keep looking, looking, looking. My eyes settle on two Boys sitting on a bench. They are about twelve. They are wearing huge baggy jeans, thick down jackets that hide their bodies, hats on backward with the brims facing down. The bench is in front of a Bathroom and provides views of the entire Bus Station. I watch them. They are what I think they are. I know what they’re doing.

I walk across the Room. As I approach the Boys, they pretend not to notice me, but I know they are looking at me as carefully as I am looking at them. I stop in front of the Bathroom door. As I do one of them quickly and briefly looks at the other. The other acknowledges the look. The looks let me know I’m right.

I open the door. It immediately smells like piss and shit and human rot. Two steps through a short, dark, dirty Hall and there is another door. I open it and the smell is stronger. I step into a foul Bathroom. Cracked, stained tiles cover the floor. They were once white, but now they’re brown. Shattered mirrors hang above sinks filled with stagnant water. Urinals run along one wall. All of them are full of yellow piss, in one lies a disintegrating shoe. I look at a line of Stalls. None of them have doors, there is graffiti covering the beaten wood walls. I see a pair of shoes beneath the last in the line. They are new shoes, expensive basketball shoes. I speak.

What’s up?

I hear a voice. Deep and thick like a sledgehammer with Ghetto inflections.

What do you need?

I need to talk to you.

I hear a chuckle. I hear movement. I see the shoes step forward and I look up and I see a man emerge from behind the wall of the Stall. He is about twenty. His head is shaved. He has a thin goatee and he wears the same style of clothing as the Boys on the bench. He looks at me, top to bottom, sizes me up. He speaks.

What’s up?

I’m looking for someone. Hoping you can help me.

Who you looking for?

A Girl. A young, white Girl. Long black hair and blue eyes. She was wearing an Army coat.

His head stays still, but his eyes move quickly and unconsciously to the upper left.

I ain’t seen her.

I stare at him.

Yes, you have.

He starts walking toward me.

You calling me a Liar?

I don’t move.

I’m not calling you anything.

His voice rises.

You calling me a motherfucking Liar?

Where is she?

He takes another step forward. His eyes slide quickly to the left and back at me.

I don’t know.

We’re face-to-face, inches apart. I can feel his breath on my cheeks. I stand my ground, but keep my hands at my sides.

Tell me where she is.

He smiles. It is not a friendly smile.

Why you gotta replace this Girl?

She’s in trouble. She needs help.

What do I get if I tell you what I know?

The satisfaction of knowing you did the right thing.

He chuckles.

That ain’t worth much to me.

I don’t have anything else.

You gotta give me something.

Like what?

How much money you got?

None.

You got a gun?

Nope.

You got a car?

I laugh.

I don’t have shit, man.

He laughs and he looks away. He looks back, looks me up and down, and he stares in my eyes. I hold his stare, but not in an aggressive way. I hold it passively and in a relaxed manner, without fear and with patience.

How you know to come in here and replace me?

Because I saw your boys out front.

And how’d you know I’d have the rock?

Because I used to smoke the rock and I used to sell the rock.

And now you trying to help this Girl get off it?

Yeah.

I lost a Sister to it once.

I’m sorry.

I knew better than to try and make her quit.

You should have tried.

Can’t nobody quit. The shit’s too strong.

Doesn’t mean you can’t try.

Do what you gotta do, but there ain’t nobody that can quit the shit.

Tell me where she is.

His stare narrows and it takes on an edge of potential violence. I wait and I stare back.

You bust me, or get me busted, or fuck with me in any way, and I’ll kill you.

That’s fine.

I’ll fucking kill you.

That’s fine.

She was in here a couple of hours ago with some old white man. He didn’t look like he smoked, but she was all shaking and shit and had them greedy eyes that Baseheads got. The old man bought two fifties and I think they went to that empty Building down the Street. There’s a busted-down door in the back and a buncha Baseheads do their cooking up on the third floor. If she ain’t there, I can’t help you.

I nod.

Thank you.

He stares.

Don’t come back here.

I won’t.

I turn and I walk out the door, across the Station and toward the entrance. Hank is waiting for me.

I think I found her.

Where?

Down the Street. In that boarded Building.

How do you know that?

A Dealer told me.

We walk outside to the Van, which is waiting at the Curb. He gets in the Driver’s seat and I get in the back. Lincoln sits staring out the window. Hank starts the Van and whips it around and we roar down the Street toward the Building. It looks as if it was once an Apartment Building. It is five floors high with windows regularly spaced along each of its sides. All of the windows are now covered with boards. A rubbled Stoop leads to a Main Entrance, which has also been boarded up. There is scrawled graffiti everywhere, most of it illegible, and there are piles of garbage on what used to be the Lawn.

Again, I am out of the Van before we stop. I run around the Building, looking for a back door, a loose board on a window, something, anything. I see a set of stairs leading downward, a door at the bottom. There is a board covering the door, but it looks loose, looks like it will move. I walk down the stairs, step around and over broken glass dirty cans empty bottles pieces of loose foil covered with burn marks lost syringes used matches and shattered lighters. I reach for the board and I push it aside. I step into the Building.

The Building is a wreck, a wretched fucking wreck. There is trash everywhere, there are soiled mattresses lying in the Halls and in Rooms. Polluted pipes are dripping some foul liquid. I hear rats in the walls and I see their shit piles in the corners, a smell that resembles rotten eggs and death permeates the air and makes me wince, cringe, want to hold my breath. I move quickly, driven by the stench and the shit, through a Hall and up the first set of stairs that I replace.

It is pitch black in the stairwell, so I walk carefully. I step on a can and it collapses beneath my foot. I hear rats scurry away I hear them chatter and squeak. I put my hand on a Rail, but the Rail is covered with something thick and wet and cold, so I move it. At the top of the first flight there is an empty garbage can that has been lit on fire. I can see outlines of soot and shades of ash. I step around it. I keep going up.

It gets cleaner as I go higher, though it is still disgusting. At the top of the second flight, I start to hear sounds of human activity. Footsteps, muffled voices, deep inhalations, deep exhalations. The hiss of a butane torch. There is laughter, but it is not happy laughter. It is a high, scratchy cackle, like the laugh of a Witch. It echoes, echoes, echoes.

I get to the third floor. I step into a Hall that leads to my left and to my right. To my left, a strong male voice screams who the fuck’s there, Motherfucker, who the fuck’s there. I start walking toward it. It screams again you best tell me who the fuck’s there. I don’t say a word. I walk, tense up, prepare to fight. It screams I’ll fuck you up, Bitch, fuck you up. I walk closer, prepare.

It becomes quiet, but for the butane hiss. I know the voice came from a Room two doors down. My fists are clenched, my jaw tight, my muscles twitching.

I step around a corner and into the Room. Against the far wall is a gaunt old man who looks like a ghost. His hair is matted, his skin is a gray of unknown race, a color that comes from months without cleaning. He is smiling without teeth and he is clutching a pipe, a long thin glass pipe red hot and flaming. I see the pipe burning his hand. The butane torch is in his other hand he is pointing it at me like a gun. The smell of crack, like bittersweet peppermint gasoline, drifts through the Room. The smell taunts me and it enrages me I would love to taste that smell, but I want Lilly more than the great and terrible rock. As I stare at the man he speaks.

I ain’t got no rock. I ain’t got none.

I step back.

I ain’t got none, I ain’t got none, don’t take my rock, don’t take it.

I step through the door.

There ain’t nothing here, Motherfucker, there ain’t nothing for you, you dirty white Devil you dirty white Pig.

Away and back. About halfway to the stairwell, just as his voice fades, the man starts screaming who the fuck’s there, Motherfucker, who the fuck’s there. I ignore him. Who the fuck’s there, Motherfucker, who the fuck’s there?

I move down the other Hall. Beneath the screams I hear new noise. Another hiss, the cackling laughter, creaking floorboards, inhalation and exhalation. I push open another door. I see three women and a man sitting on the floor in the middle of a Room. Their eyes are all wide and empty. One of the women is inhaling from a pipe. She sucks so hard her cheeks are caving in. She finishes and she passes the pipe to the woman next to her, who takes it and holds the torch to its tip and inhales. I don’t say a word to them, they don’t say a word to me. I want that pipe I would die for that pipe hold on get away. As I reach for the door, I hear the cackle. I shut the door and keep moving down the Hall.

It is quiet. The man has stopped screaming. The only noise is of my feet stepping on old boards, faded newspapers and shards of glass. I look into each Room, but they are all empty. I fight the urge to go back for some rock the urge is growing stronger each second. As I near the end of the Hall, I hear a man’s voice saying oh Baby, yeah Baby, suck it Baby, suck that big fat dick. Under the voice I hear spit on flesh moving back and forth, back and forth. The Fury flares to full strength and I remind myself I am here to retrieve, not to hurt. I am here to retrieve and get out. My urges are growing. Retrieve and get out. As fast as I fucking can.

I get to the end of the Hall and I stand in front of a door. Behind it I hear oh yeah, you little Whore, just like that take it all take it all, you little Whore. I open the door and I step into the Room and she’s there on her knees, her face buried in an old man’s crotch. There is a pipe and torch on the floor next to her.

He looks over says what the fuck she looks up and gasps. In her eyes is the greedy need, the desperate insanity, the awful shame and the complete obsession of crack. She falls back away from the man whose khakis are at his ankles he yells what the fuck are you doing in here. I ignore him and I step toward her I am here for her. He reaches for a bottle I see it out of the corner of my eye and I stop and I turn around and I take one step toward him. He’s within striking distance and he has a bottle in his hand. I strike. A quick hard backhand across one of his cheeks. It stuns him and I take another step forward. He shrinks against the wall and I stare at him.

I’m not here to hurt you.

He stares back at me. His eyes are wide. He’s scared.

Get your shit and get the fuck out of here.

He starts pulling up his pants, looking around the floor for whatever he has with him. I turn back to Lilly, who is clutching the bag of crack and the pipe and crawling backward into a corner. I reach toward her with one hand.

Come here, Lilly.

She crawls backward, shakes her head.

Come on. We’re going Home.

She into the corner, clutching her gear. She shakes her head.

We’re going to leave that shit here and we’re going Home.

She clutches, shakes her head, her eyes are gone, she is gone. She speaks.

No.

I step toward her.

Yes.

Behind me I hear the old man walking out. She shakes her head.

Get away from me.

I’m not leaving without you.

She screams.

Get the fuck away from me.

I step forward.

No.

She huddles deeper into the corner, clutches the bag and the pipe.

Get the fuck away from me.

I step forward, lean over, put my arms around her. She struggles, tries to push me away, tries to fight. I hold on tight, stand straight, pull her up with me.

Come on.

She’s grunting, growling, struggling, fighting. I know it’s the drug the crack the rock that’s fighting me, I know it’s not her. I know if I hold on long enough, I’ll beat it.

Come on. We’re going Home.

She tries to push.

You can fight me all you want, but we’re going Home.

She tries harder. Harder. Harder.

I raise my voice.

Stop fucking fighting me. We’re going Home.

There is a last burst of anger and fear and punching and pushing and she stops. Goes limp. I feel the pipe and the bag against my chest. I feel them fall away, hear them hit the floor. I think about picking them up the urge is so fucking strong I hold on to her. I hold on until it goes away. Hold on.

She starts crying against my shoulder weeping. She has broken the drug has broken I stay still for a moment to make sure. I hold her and I turn her and I start walking toward the door. We get into the Hall start moving toward the stairwell. The Ghost is screaming again and the cackling has returned. I hold Lilly and she cries and we start down the stairs walking slowly and carefully if I let her go she will fall. She is broken and lost and high, she doesn’t know what’s happening. If I let her go she will fall.

We get to the bottom of the stairs walk through the Basement the smell the smell we walk up the stairs back into the night. We walk around the Building. The Van is out front. Hank steps out and he comes around to meet us.

She all right?

No.

He opens the door.

We’ll get her back fast.

I lift her inside.

Thank you.

He shuts the door. I sit down with Lilly in my arms and she cries against my shoulder. Lincoln turns around and he looks at us.

Crack?

Yeah.

He nods and without another word, he turns back around. Hank opens the Driver’s door and he gets behind the wheel and he starts the Van and we pull away from the Building.

Hank drives as fast as he can within reason. Lilly starts to come down from the crack. She shakes and sweats, fades in and out of consciousness, fades in and out of sanity. When she’s conscious her eyes are wide and nervous. They can’t stay in one place and she blinks and her whole face moves as she blinks blinks blinks. She babbles about her bag of crack and a large fire and a man from Atlantis who is coming to get her. When she is not babbling, she is crying. When she’s unconscious, she twitches and moans as if small bursts of electricity are blasting through her body. Her legs shake and extend, her arms quiver, she holds on to my shirt so tightly that she tears it. Occasionally she swears, like someone with Tourrette’s, saying fuck you or Motherfucker or goddamn fucking Bitch. I sit and I hold her. I respond to her words, though I know she can’t hear me. Even if she’s awake, nothing registers, except that she was high and now she’s not. She’s coming down. I hold her. I just want to get her back.

We pull off the Highway and onto the road that leads back to the Clinic. There is a spark of recognition Lilly knows where we are. She grabs on to me and I can feel her fingernails breaking through the flesh of my arms and she looks into my eyes and her eyes are filled with fear fear fear and for the first time since we have been in the Van she says something that makes sense.

I’m scared.

There’s nothing to be scared of.

I’m scared, James.

Everything’s going to be okay.

I didn’t mean to do it.

I know you didn’t.

I just couldn’t stop myself.

It’s over.

I’m so scared.

We’re Home now. Everything’s going to be okay.

We pull in front of the Entrance to the Clinic. The Van stops. Hank and Lincoln get out, Lincoln opens the back door and I help Lilly from the seat and hold her as we step out. Lincoln speaks.

We’ll take her from here.

Where’s she going?

Detox.

How long?

Probably a day.

Take good care of her.

We will.

He reaches toward us, Lilly holds tighter. I tell her it’s okay it’s time to go I tell her I love her. She starts crying. I gently push her toward Lincoln who holds her up on one side as Hank walks to the other. When she is gone from me and safe in their arms, I look at Lincoln.

Thank you.

He nods.

Go to bed. Sleep in tomorrow if you want, come to my Office when you wake up.

Okay.

Hank speaks.

And don’t worry about her, she’s going to be fine.

I start to break down.

Thank you both so much. Thank you.

Lincoln nods, Hank says no problem. They turn and start walking Lilly, who is incoherent and babbling again, toward the Medical Wing of the Clinic. I watch them and the tears flow and I fight the sobs. I know she’s in good hands and I know she’s going to be fine, but seeing her this way breaks my fucking heart, destroys me, makes me want to die so that somehow she can live. I watch them walk away and I cry.

They disappear into the Medical Unit. I stand alone in front of the Entrance with my face in my hands and I cry. It is cold and dark and it’s the middle of the night and there’s nothing I can do but cry. I let myself. For her and for her pain and for the World that we have created together. I would give my life if it could somehow make her better. I would have given it earlier tonight, I would give it in the future. If it would make any difference, I would give her my life. I know it won’t make a difference. I cry.

I stop crying and I turn and I walk inside. There is a woman at the Front Desk we say hi to each other and I head back to the Unit. The Halls are empty and silent, everyone is asleep, and when I get to my Room, I open the door and I quietly step inside. Miles is in bed and the lights are out. I get undressed and I climb under the covers of my bed.

I start crying again.

Softly crying.

I think of Lilly and I cry.

It’s all I can do.

Cry.