couldn’t figure out what it could be.
“Why are you fucking with my head?” I said.
“Ain’t messing with your head. You think better when you smoke that stuff?”
“Sometimes.”
“How long you been on phenobarbital?”
“I don’t know. A while.”
“How come them to take you off Dilantin?”
“Who you been talking to?”
“Doctors here and there. I read your chart. How come they took you off Dilantin?”
I looked away. “It wasn’t controlling my seizures,” I said.
“How much you drink?”
“None of your fucking business.”
So she knew about the drinking. She probably knew everything. But I didn’t. I looked at her again.
“You know what happened to me?”
“Yeah.”
“You see this face I’m carrying around?”
“Yeah. So what?”
“So if I feel like drinking I don’t want anybody to tell me I can’t.”
She hushed for about two beats. But I knew she was coming right back with something. She leaned a little closer first.
“That don’t give you the right to kill yourself,” she said.
“Why don’t you tell him that, too? That’s what he was talking about a while ago.”
“He talks about a lot of stuff. He tell you about his trips?”
“What trips?”
“I mean the trips he takes in his mind. That’s how he deals with it.”
“Well,” I said. “We all got to deal with it. I drink. And I ain’t dead yet.”
“You may be if you keep on. That grass ain’t hurting you as bad as beer and whiskey is.”
“I know all about that shit. What the hell you expect me to do? I can’t get a fucking job. I can’t drive a car. What the hell did they bring me here for anyway?”
She looked away.
“You had a bad seizure,” she said.
“Well no screaming shit. I figured that.”
I didn’t know why I was being so hard on her. But goddamn it, I’ve
talked
to all those doctors. I
know
what the problem is. They want to cut on me, but they
don’t
want to cut on me. Because that’s where your talking is. One little slip with that knife … (after they’ve got the whole top of your head lifted off) and you don’t talk no more. Hell. I don’t talk to many people now.
“Look,” I said. “I’ve been living with this for a long time. I take my medicine most of the time. I mean, I don’t like it. It makes me feel strange. I mean that just makes it worse. All it does is just make me feel sorry for myself andwant a drink. And then usually I take one. Jesus. Why don’t you just go off and leave me alone?”
I had a buzz but it wasn’t doing me any good. Not with her digging at me. I guess she saw it. She sighed. She got out of the chair and bent over me, straightening the sheet, tucking it in around my toes.
She stopped and put a hand on each side of me and leaned over so that her face was close to mine. I could see her up close then, her dark lashes, the whites of her eyes. She was a wet dream come true.
She lowered her face to me and kissed me, softly, once, on the mouth.
“Try to be patient with him,” she said, and she took the burning joint out of my fingers. She went to stand behind his bed, and when she did, he woke up.
I looked at her, and I looked at him. I felt bad about calling him a son of a bitch. I thought about twenty-two years.
Baby that’s a long, long long, long long long long time.
“Y ou decided you’d wake up, huh? Ah hell we’re just talking.
“Hey, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that. I’ve just got a lot of shit on my mind. Waking up in here and all. I thought somebody would have come to see about me by now. Or called. I just been drinking too much. That’s all it is. I know better.
“You leaving? Oh. Okay.
“Man. How does she keep from getting caught? Hell, this dope. That beer. She takes good care of you, doesn’t she? She said you were the oldest. I guess that’s why.
“Yeah, I’ll drink one. You sure you got plenty?
“Damn. I guess I’m just a rude sumbitch, ain’t I? I haven’t even asked you
“Why are you fucking with my head?” I said.
“Ain’t messing with your head. You think better when you smoke that stuff?”
“Sometimes.”
“How long you been on phenobarbital?”
“I don’t know. A while.”
“How come them to take you off Dilantin?”
“Who you been talking to?”
“Doctors here and there. I read your chart. How come they took you off Dilantin?”
I looked away. “It wasn’t controlling my seizures,” I said.
“How much you drink?”
“None of your fucking business.”
So she knew about the drinking. She probably knew everything. But I didn’t. I looked at her again.
“You know what happened to me?”
“Yeah.”
“You see this face I’m carrying around?”
“Yeah. So what?”
“So if I feel like drinking I don’t want anybody to tell me I can’t.”
She hushed for about two beats. But I knew she was coming right back with something. She leaned a little closer first.
“That don’t give you the right to kill yourself,” she said.
“Why don’t you tell him that, too? That’s what he was talking about a while ago.”
“He talks about a lot of stuff. He tell you about his trips?”
“What trips?”
“I mean the trips he takes in his mind. That’s how he deals with it.”
“Well,” I said. “We all got to deal with it. I drink. And I ain’t dead yet.”
“You may be if you keep on. That grass ain’t hurting you as bad as beer and whiskey is.”
“I know all about that shit. What the hell you expect me to do? I can’t get a fucking job. I can’t drive a car. What the hell did they bring me here for anyway?”
She looked away.
“You had a bad seizure,” she said.
“Well no screaming shit. I figured that.”
I didn’t know why I was being so hard on her. But goddamn it, I’ve
talked
to all those doctors. I
know
what the problem is. They want to cut on me, but they
don’t
want to cut on me. Because that’s where your talking is. One little slip with that knife … (after they’ve got the whole top of your head lifted off) and you don’t talk no more. Hell. I don’t talk to many people now.
“Look,” I said. “I’ve been living with this for a long time. I take my medicine most of the time. I mean, I don’t like it. It makes me feel strange. I mean that just makes it worse. All it does is just make me feel sorry for myself andwant a drink. And then usually I take one. Jesus. Why don’t you just go off and leave me alone?”
I had a buzz but it wasn’t doing me any good. Not with her digging at me. I guess she saw it. She sighed. She got out of the chair and bent over me, straightening the sheet, tucking it in around my toes.
She stopped and put a hand on each side of me and leaned over so that her face was close to mine. I could see her up close then, her dark lashes, the whites of her eyes. She was a wet dream come true.
She lowered her face to me and kissed me, softly, once, on the mouth.
“Try to be patient with him,” she said, and she took the burning joint out of my fingers. She went to stand behind his bed, and when she did, he woke up.
I looked at her, and I looked at him. I felt bad about calling him a son of a bitch. I thought about twenty-two years.
Baby that’s a long, long long, long long long long time.
“Y ou decided you’d wake up, huh? Ah hell we’re just talking.
“Hey, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that. I’ve just got a lot of shit on my mind. Waking up in here and all. I thought somebody would have come to see about me by now. Or called. I just been drinking too much. That’s all it is. I know better.
“You leaving? Oh. Okay.
“Man. How does she keep from getting caught? Hell, this dope. That beer. She takes good care of you, doesn’t she? She said you were the oldest. I guess that’s why.
“Yeah, I’ll drink one. You sure you got plenty?
“Damn. I guess I’m just a rude sumbitch, ain’t I? I haven’t even asked you
Similar Books
