I’ve returned home, well moms home. I’m going over applications and my shitty resume. What is your best quality? Being an addict. What is your worst quality? Being an addict. While this process of filling out applications has been tedious and a reminder of just how lacking I am of any positive qualities, it has been a welcomed distraction for the moment. Dee is still at the hospital and resting peacefully in the euphoria of a morphine drip. I’m gonna head back there in about an hour. I want to be there when she wakes up and the cops start questioning her. I know she’ll want me there. That last thing she said before passing out has been haunting me. I know she said that fucking bitches name. Burgess, you gotta calm down. Anger is obviously not going to get you anywhere and it definitely will not be helping Dee any. I’ve been talking with myself even more lately. Aiyana is pissed off with me and we haven’t spoken for a while. Not sure if I would be able to open up to her. I’m kinda not so pleased she is upset with me. It is my own damn fault though. I am a drunken indecisive wreck. She deserves better than that. God, I really do like her and she does treat me well, and god, loves me. Fuck it, she probably wants nothing to do with me anymore anyways.
Ok, back to these applications. What job do I really want? The custodial position cleaning rancid clogged toilets or flipping the remnants of dead animals on hot stoves? Damn choices. Let me skim that paper one more time. Never know, there may just be that perfect even more demeaning job to apply for.
“Hey mom. Where you been?”
“Jesus Christ Patricia! Can I go anywhere without you fucking asking where I have been?”
“Well, Jesus Christ mom I was just trying to start a friendly conversation. If you have such a problem with me, why’d you say I could stay here?”
“I figured you could help out with a few bills. If you must know I will be in my bedroom.” She swings open the fridge to grab whatever cheap bottle of alcohol that just happened to be on sale that week. She’ll go through that fifth tonight. I think she has already started her one woman party down at the local dive. Great, I get the fun part. Oh my god! Am I my mother? Fuck, let’s not open that door yet. I’m sure years of counseling in the future, talking through mommy issues, will answer that one. The banter again that I am having with myself is interrupted by the squeal of the phone. I hope it’s the hospital letting me know that Dee is awake. I’m at the phone by the third ring.
“Hello.” It’s the hospital. Dee is awake and asking for me. Mom has left her keys out on the counter and I want to get there as fast as I can. I don’t give a shit, I’m taking her Buick. As I get to the hospital I see officer Thomas and Anderson walking in. that last name is odd to me. I don’t like its roll off the tongue. Ok weirdo more important things to attend to. For some reason I want to catch up to them and walk with them. I want to let them know what Dee had said to me but she might just tell them. Whatever, I’ll just hang back. I’ll see them in a couple of minutes. Finally getting up here I see my way to the room. The officers are already in there and the door is open. Right before I enter one of the nurses stops me and motions for me to sit down. He tells me if they need me, they’ll bring me into the room. Damn it! I know she wants me with her. I’m sitting close to her room and with the door open you would assume I could hear what is being said. Nope, can’t hear a fucking thing. Just mumbled voices. They begin to sound like the parental figures in the “Peanuts” shows. After a few frustrated minutes of fiercely closed eyes in an attempt to hear better, I give up and walk down stairs to one of the vending machines.
Oh, those look good, animal crackers. Maybe a little ironic considering I’m a vegetarian, but it sounds like a good choice. I insert my last dollar into the machine, gently pushing b4 in hopes that might aid the package from getting hung up on the moving thingy. I can relax, they didn’t get caught, a success. Nowadays even these small accomplishments I celebrate. The moment I return upstairs officer Anderson comes out of the room and walks to the nurses’ station. I can hear him ask for me. The cute blond nurse simply points in my direction. I hold up my hand to gesture I’m here and basically what’s going on. Officer Anderson just lets me know that Dee wants me in the room.
Dee looks quite uncomfortable. Not just from the pain but she also has the look of utter irritation across her face. I almost laugh. She rolls her eyes. As I stand there with my hand propped onto the metal railing of Dee’s bed, I’m confused. Why have they even been in here for as long as they have? I know what she said to me, I know what I heard. She said Ginger. Well a slurred Ginger. I’m assuming that is what happened, Ginger is what happened. Maybe I didn’t hear it? I shake my head slightly to wave off any doubt in my thoughts and look at the officers.
“Did she tell you anything? Dee I’m sorry I didn’t mean to talk like you’re not here.”
Officer Thomas’s response seems almost as confused as my question.
“Well, no, not really. Dee said she can only remember heading over to the coffee shop you guys like to hang out at and everything gets fuzzy. Sorry Ms. Espinoza.”
“That’s fine, I’m used to being invisible.” Dee is clearly in pain and is done.
I know she just doesn’t want to tell them. God, she is probably humiliated. Ginger is smaller than her and can play the victim well. Dee has told me a couple of times how during a fight Ginger would threaten that if Dee called the cops who would they believe. Talk about living in a fucking prison, emotionally and mentally. They have to know even if it means she doesn’t say another word to me in her lifetime. The officers take notice of her pain as well and tell her it is enough for today and to get some rest. They thank her for her time on the way out. As soon as we are out of the room I intend to tell them what she had said to me. Out in the hallway I place my hand on officer Thomas’s shoulder to spill Dee’s secret. We notice another officer approaching and they greet her by her name.
“Ms. Burgess?” she asks sternly pulling handcuffs from behind her. In any other situation this would be the beginning to a grand night of role play and bondage. At this moment, not so much.
“You’re under arrest for grand theft auto.”
“That fucking bitch!” But I’m really not even surprised.