Mikey
After twenty years, Sam, Mikey’s sponsor, added a second AA meeting during the week, Monday at 8:00 PM. Some of the members from the Friday meeting overlapped with this one. Six months ago, Mikey nearly tumbled from the wagon, so he started back attending meetings every couple of weeks. This past Friday at the concert had put a scare into him. He stood at the bar too long, his mouth watered too much. That club had been a regular hangout during in his hardcore drinking days.
Less than a dozen cars littered the community center parking lot. The center had been converted from an old elementary school. The halls still smelled like paste and chalk. The AA meeting was held in the old library. Most of the books had been donated to other area schools or sold off.
Mikey grabbed a cup of apple juice and what the hell, a few Oreos from a paper plate. How fancy. He snorted. This place always gave him an attitude, probably because he loathed that he needed to come here at all.
He slumped down into a chair that was part of a circle. Mikey kept his head straight, peering around the room. The only face he recognized besides Sam’s was Chuck’s. Pain in the ass Chuck. Or Chuck PITA.
Sam started the meeting with the usual serenity prayer. Harry announced his arrival by barging into the room and bumping into an empty chair. The legs squeaked on the floor. If Sam was annoyed, he didn’t show it. Mikey rolled his eyes. Harry acknowledged him by nodding in his direction.
“Who would like to share?”
Mikey flashed his palm. Sam indicated he had the floor with a Vanna White wave.
“I’m Mike and you all know I’m an alcoholic.” He continued before everyone could chorus ‘Hi, Mike.’ “Tough week for me. Went to a concert Friday night, to a place I did a lot of drinking. My mouth watered as soon as my fiancé and I pulled into the parking lot. No scratch that, the second I saw I the building, coming up the street.”
A few people chuckled quietly, although nodded in understanding.
“Stood at the damn bar, staring at all the liquor bottles lined up and the beer taps. Oh God, the taps. They looked so beautiful. St. Pauli girl winked at me. Anyway, I didn’t do it. I stayed sober.”
“What stopped you?” Harry asked, surprising most people. He usually didn’t talk much at the meetings.
“I went and stood in a spot I could see my fiancé. The trust she has in me, I just couldn’t violate it. Or my son’s. It’s not like I stay clean for them. I do it because I accept love. I want a life, my life, more than anything in the world.”
One of the women in attendance sniffled and blew her nose.
“Harry, you haven’t been here in a while,” Sam prompted. He wouldn’t have said anything to him had he not asked Mikey a question. Now, he was on the moderator’s radar.
Harry took a deep breath. “I’m here because my last thought after work was I needed my bed and a bottle of liquor. Terrible week, riddled with guilt and helplessness.”
“It’s good you recognized it and came here tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Can you elaborate on the guilt you’re experiencing?”
“I’m a bastard.”
Mikey laughed, he couldn’t help it. And was the only one in the room who understood why Harry felt that way.
Sam narrowed his eyes at Mikey. “This is a judgment free zone.”
“Oh, I’m not judging, I know why he thinks he’s a bastard, though.”
“And do you agree?” someone else asked.
“Oh, yes,” Mikey winked at Harry. “No, he’s not a bastard.” He winked again.
“All right, will you cut it out?” Harry said, batting the air with one hand.
“You know there are two meetings a week now,” Sam offered.
“What, like we planned to both show up tonight?” Harry said.
“I don’t mind you both here, but your banter is disruptive to the other members.”
Mikey and Harry looked at each other like Sam was the one making a big deal.
“We’ll behave ourselves,” Mikey said, keeping his eyes on Harry and smirking.
“Actually, I find it entertaining,” Chuck said. Some of the others murmured in agreement.
Sam sighed.
* * *
Grace
Grace’s book club meeting ended at quarter after nine. Andrea came over to watch Brayden while Mikey attended an AA meeting. Andrea and her husband Brad Winston were Mikey’s, and now Grace’s good friends. Andrea used to make sure Brayden got off the bus from school all right and stayed with him until his father got home. Now that Grace had moved in and rearranged her work schedule to be home, Andrea only filled in every once in a while. The other part of the time she tended bar at Brad’s restaurant, Cocoa.
Grace’s stomach growled as she wound her way through the residential maze of streets, away from the library, where the meeting had been held. Out of nowhere, a car drove up behind her. It seemed as if it had always been there, and suddenly turned on its headlights.
The dark vehicle rode her bumper street after street. Feeling uneasy, Grace called Mikey using her car’s navigation screen system. The phone rang.
“You have reached the voice…”
Damn. She pressed ‘End’ and phoned her dad. That call didn’t even ring before it was sent to voice mail.
Okay, the driver of the car was only someone who lived in the neighborhood. Yep, nothing to worry about. She was just being paranoid. She turned onto the short stretch of road leading into town, a place with little to no streetlights. The patch of trees on her right stood on the other side of a ditch, the depth of which couldn’t be seen from the road. Naturally, Grace sped up. The car behind her matched her speed. She checked her mirror and switched lanes. The car tailing her roared its engine and beat her to the lane, and rode in her blind spot. The driver laid on the horn. She yelped.
Grace’s heart flip-flopped. She jerked the wheel, and swerved. Her car straddled the yellow line with the right side tires on the gravel shoulder.
Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she cranked it to the left, and unintentionally smashed into the other car. She glanced over, yet couldn’t see the driver, only a dark outline through a tinted window.
She broke into a sweat. The car stayed alongside hers, taking up more than half her lane. Her Lincoln’s tires rode the gravel strip of the side of the road. Tears blurred her vision.
She pounded the wheel, yet kept missing the horn. Where was it? Why wouldn’t it work? The vehicle moved away and dropped back. A wave of relief flooded her body.
Whoever it was couldn’t be located within her mirrors. She pressed ‘redial’ on the navigation screen. Her touch didn’t register, so she tapped the button again. Her father’s voice mail picked up.
CRUNCH!
The driver smacked the side of her car again, forcing her into the gravel and several inches of snow. “Help!”
Again, the other car pulled away then slammed her Lincoln. This time she saw the car coming and tensed. Her mind played tricks on her and she saw herself pounding on the side window, shouting ‘Help me!’. Everything around her slowed or froze, including the voice mail greeting.
Grace careened down the steep incline of the ditch and struck the other side. Her car wedged in the ditch. The air bags deployed, knocking her arms away from the steering wheel. Her head rocked forward then back against the headrest. A powdery substance dusted her face and clothing. She coughed and blindly felt for the door handle, and wrenched the door open.
She swung her legs out of the car, expecting the ground would meet her feet. It wasn’t where it should be and she fell to her knees first, then landed face-down in the snow.
Grace scrambled to her hands and knees and crawled up the side of the ditch toward the road. Wind from a few passing cars blew, pelting her with salt from the road. Something poked her eye, and she rolled onto the snow.
Her hands, arms, and face burned. She made fists, gravel stuck to her palms. “Ow, ow, ow!” she cried, tears spilling down her face. Her body ached. She looked up at the blurry stars, wondering what would become of her. Would she die? Who was in that car? Would they be back?
Grace couldn’t wait here to find out. She struggled to her feet, and staggered toward the road. “Help!” she croaked. What happened to her voice? No one heard her and would anyone see her either? Her clothing was black and so was her hair.
She moved too close to pavement.
BEEEP!
Her hair danced in the gust of wind as a truck thundered past.
Another vehicle with a damaged side and dark windows pulled off onto the shoulder and stopped. Brakes squealed and the door swung open.
“No!” Grace spun and ran in the opposite direction, strands of wet hair whipping her in the face.
“Grace!” a man yelled.
She didn’t look at her pursuer. The tip of her boot caught and her hip slammed onto the ground. Her teeth gritted. She gasped for breath.
“Grace, stop!”
“No, please no…”
He closed the gap between them, his footfalls crunching the gravel.
She wanted to flee, but couldn’t make her feet respond quickly enough.
He seized her arm. She swung her other, but he was faster and grabbed her wrist.
“No! Let go!”
“Grace, I won’t hurt you. I’m trying to help.”
Yeah, right. How did he know her name? His features were out of focus, like she was looking through a glass of water. Breathing was out of the question. Her lungs refused to inflate properly. “No, no…no.”
“Grace, its Cam! We’ve met, remember?”
“Cam?”
“Yeah, Cam. Are you all right?”
“How did you…?” She swallowed hard.
“I saw you staggering toward the road, I almost hit you.”
“You did? Oh God, someone, someone…”
“Easy, take some deep breaths.” He knelt and took out a cell phone.
She vaguely heard, “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
Cam spoke even-toned, calm, like her father. “I’d like to report an accident on Highway 19 at mile marker 38. Please send an ambulance.”