Alex by Adam J Nicolai

quiet room for a minute?"
    "Yeah.   Yeah."   He started to set his phone to After Call Work so he wouldn't get calls, but it was already set.   Shit, he almost said again.
    Justin led him to a quiet room and closed the door.   As they sat down, Ian started.  
    "Justin, I'm sorry.   I didn't mean to.   I've just... I've been sleeping so bad.   I can't get any sleep at home.   I keep having these nightmares."   He felt like a worm, groveling to this man.  
    "Ian, you can't sleep on the job."
    "No, no, I know I can't -"
    "We have to write you up for this.   It's gonna go in your file."
    "Yeah.   Of course."   What could he say?   "Okay."   He had expected to be fired.
    Justin's pen scratched across the paper, all in neat little caps.  
    WED, 11/3/10.   IAN COLMES WAS SLEEPING AT HIS DESK ON ACW.   I HAVE ADVISED IAN THAT HE IS ON WRITTEN NOTICE AND ANOTHER
    Justin paused, at a rare loss for words.
    INCIDENT MAY RESULT IN TERMINATION.
    He signed his name in impeccable cursive, and handed Ian the pen.   Ian's sprawling scribble went on the line that said, Employee Signature .
    "Take the afternoon off," Justin said as he stood.   "Go home and get some sleep.   Take it easy."
    Ian wondered if he would get paid for the rest of the day.   He was out of vacation time for the year.   But he didn't ask.   The image of his couch - or, oh god, his bed - glimmered like an oasis.  
    Justin paused at the door.   "Maybe give SER a call.   I've heard they're really good."
    Smartlink Employee Resources.   Ian had seen the fliers.   They could get him some free mental health care.   Probably a couple hours.   That should be enough, right?   Fix everything.
    "Okay.   Yeah."   Ian nodded.   "Thanks."
    64
     
    It was cold outside, the first really cold day of the season.   He trudged through the parking lot under a grey sky, head bowed against the wind, as brown and yellow leaves chased each other over his shoes.
    He had to stop for gas.   The wind gusted as he climbed out of the car, making him shiver.   He remembered being young, and running around in autumn without a coat on.   He had relished the cold, then, but the fire of youth had burned out sometime since, and now the wind sliced right through him.
    There was an old coat in the trunk - left there since last March, when he'd torn it off one day in a sweat.   That was before Alex was taken.   How long before? he wondered, but couldn't remember.   Long enough that something like the first warm day of spring had still been notable.  
    He popped the trunk to grab his coat, and saw the Ouija board.  
    REACH OUT TO GHOSTS, the package read.   CONTACT LOST LOVED ONES!
    Hokey bullshit.   A scam made for suckers.   He threw his coat on and slammed the trunk.   But as he watched the dollar display on the pump rocket upwards, he kept thinking about it.
    CONTACT LOST LOVED ONES!
    Maybe it will let him talk.   Maybe he'll be able to just tell me what he wants.  
    It's bullshit.   Jesus, I thought you outgrew this shit when you were twelve.  
    I did.   But obviously I got something wrong.  
    It's fucking stupid.   Don't be an idiot.   If you want to do something about this, do like Derek said.   Get some fucking Tylenol PM.   Call a shrink.   Call SER.  
    He slapped the gas dispenser on to the pump and climbed back into the car.
    He was so tired.  
    65
     
    The Ouija board's box slid on to the kitchen table with a whispered thunk , and he turned away from it at once.   He hung up his coat and grabbed a pop from the fridge, something with caffeine, and stood staring out the kitchen window into his little backyard as his thoughts chased each other in circles.  
    He was ashamed of the thing sitting on the table.   He wanted to bury it in the closet, like a rented porn video, but of course that was ridiculous.   There was no one to see it but him.  
    Then again, maybe that was enough reason to do it.
    In the backyard there was a swing hanging by