Asylum

Chapter 5-1

Chapter 5

June 2018

I wasn’t sure how long I sat in that alley hearing the echoes of Devon’s quiet rage juxtaposed against my mother’s shrill yell. “Get the f**k out!” I heard it over and over, like some sort of twisted echo chamber. Nobody ever wanted me. Nobody cared if I lived or died. Nobody except my brother. My missing other half.

The sight of dirty work boots pulled me out of my self-pity party. Too tweaked to look up, I assumed they belonged to Vern. I imagined him looking over me with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression indiscernible. For a moment, I tried to determine whether his trademark stoicism was better or worse than Devon and my mother’s scorn. Was apathy harder or easier to bear than rejection? But it was too much for my mind to hold on to. Then something clicked in my mind: the notion that I shouldn’t be seeing Vern while in this state.

I looked up to see Mike looking down at me. Then I realized he had been calling out to me repeatedly. The drug raced through my veins and reached what I hoped was its peak. Again, I felt nausea take over my body, and I started to heave, turning my head in hopes of avoiding puking on the poor guy’s boots. Alas, I had nothing more to bring up. As I struggled to stop dry-heaving, I heard him calling to me again as he crouched down next to me.

“Justin, man, are you okay?”

I wiped my mouth and shook my head. I wasn’t sure whether I was really asking for help or if that was the best response my body could manage in the moment. With some difficulty, I pushed myself into a sitting position and propped my back up against the brick wall.

“Dude, you don’t want any part of this,” I managed to say. Unfortunately, my hand flopped into my sick. I dragged it over the asphalt, trying to rub off as much as I could. I huffed an almost-laugh at how on point my statement was. “I’m a hot mess.”

“Not gonna disagree with you there.” He looked a lot less worried now that I was able to respond to him. He sat down next to me, putting me between him and my vomit. I didn’t blame him for that choice. The sensation of his body’s warmth next to mine felt like heaven. I involuntarily leaned into him and stared at the club door. For a long while, we just sat there in silence, watching men come and go in and out of Leviticus. Just as I thought I was starting to feel a little better, the door opened and Devon stepped into the alley.

The crease in his forehead and between his eyes deepened as he saw me with my head on Mike’s shoulder.

“The f**k?”

“You know this pup, Dev?” Mike asked.

“Only biblically,” I mumbled.

“Not quite,” Devon retorted. He shifted his gaze from me to Mike. “The question is, do you know him? Do you know that he’s high?”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

“Were you the one who let this junky into the club?”

“Hey!” I said indignantly. “I’m not a junky.” My f*****g traitorous body decided at that moment that more dry heaves were warranted. As I hunched over, trying to stop them, I was vaguely aware of Mike getting up and talking to Devon softly but intensely while ushering him away from me. Suddenly I felt a fervent need to piss, but lamented that I would have to get up to deal with that.

“C’mon, pup.” Suddenly Mike was back and pulling me up off the ground. Devon was long gone. When did that happen?

“Where’re we going?”

“I’m assuming you don’t have a safe place to go.”

I thought about that the best that I could. Did I have a safe place to go? I recalled earlier that day, Shelly looking guiltily at me as she packed for her out-of-state college orientation. Her parents had been nice enough in letting me crash on their couch over the past couple weeks, but now that she would be away at school, the couch was closed. Just before she’d left in her beat-up VW, she’d slipped me the pill I had taken tonight. She told me she’d found it in her drawer while packing and assumed it was some leftover E. Then she’d taken off, wishing me the best. I knew she wouldn’t be back.

“Justin?”

Damn, I must have gotten lost in my thoughts again.

“Huh?”

“Never mind, pup. You’re coming home with me.”

“Okay.” I was in no position to argue. “Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to pee.”

“Luckily, I have a bathroom, and it’s not that far.” He chuckled.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not gonna expect me to put out, are ya? Cuz…um…I’ve never done that before.” What was up with my mouth? It was like I had ingested veritaserum or something. Mike glanced at me with an almost fondness.

“No, pup. I don’t go for tweaked virgins.”

“Mike?”

He sighed this time.

“Yeah, kid?”

“I’m not a junky.” I really wanted him to know that.

“Yeah, kid, I know.” He put a fatherly arm around my shoulders and shepherded me down the streets of Boston.