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“Yeah. Bri, it’s me.”
He struggles against the restraints. “You gotta get me out of here, man. Fuck! Look at what they did to me!”
They did to him? The people that put his face back together? I shake my head. “You punched an orderly in the face. Broke his nose. What did you expect?”
“Get me out of here! I’m going crazy.”
Because he’s coming down from meth. I rake my hands through my hair, lace my fingers on top of my head. “Who did this to you?”
“No one.”
“I’m not helping you until you tell me.”
“Arghhh,” he screams, jerks on the restraints some more, his body bowing off the gurney, the veins on his skinny arms popping in stark relief.
“Who cut you?”
“I was helping a friend and I got into it with someone.”
Last I heard he was sleeping in a tent somewhere downtown, in one of the tent villages that are popping up all over the city. The homeless population in the state of California has blown up in recent years, along with property taxes and the cost of housing. People can’t afford the rent anymore. The elderly and those on pensions and disability are most at risk, but substance abuse and mental illness are also part of the problem. And no one has a solution.
“Helping a friend score drugs?”
“No, man. They were gonna rape her and I had to stop them.”
This is how it all started. And it’s happening again. Brian’s savior complex getting him into trouble. If there’s a woman in distress in a twenty-mile radius, he’ll find a way to get involved. “I gotta get back to her. Get me out of here, Rea. Please!”
Tears appear in his eyes and my stomach twists. As much as I want to help, my gut tells me he’s a habitual and crafty liar, willing to do and say anything to score his next fix.
“She’s in danger, Rea. I can’t let her get hurt.”
It’s Jessie all over again.
He starts to cry outright, his face crumpling in pain. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My throat feels sore and my eyes damp. This is my brother. This is all that’s left of him.
“Foz said he’ll have a bed for you at the end of the week.” I don’t even recognize my own voice. It’s strained and broken. “I’ll sign you out if you promise to try rehab one last time. Do it for…what’s her name?”
His head falls back down on the gurney and tears streak down his temples. “Lisa,” he murmurs.
“You can get Lisa out of danger, really help her, if you get clean.”
He nods. “Okay,” he quietly concedes. “Okay. Let me get her somewhere safe and I’ll go.”
I sign him out a short while later. The hospital doesn’t want him any more than he wants to be there. The only reason they patch him up from time to time is in deference to my parents. Although they’ve never asked that he get special treatment. They’d rather he “learn his lesson the hard way.” As if addiction is a lesson to be learned.
They give me a packet with antibiotics and ointment. I hand him the ointment and he stuffs it in his pocket. He won’t take the pills. He’ll sell them for drug money, which is why I hold on to them.
I introduce Brian to Alice and he immediately gets quiet, avoiding eye contact with her. Part of him is still there, hidden behind the junkie he’s become. He’s aware of what he looks like to her and it embarrasses him.
Twenty minutes after that, we’re driving down S. Central Ave. Late at night, this part of the city is an eerie ghost town. A deserted movie set. We spot a few people sleeping on the sidewalks, covered by cardboard. Other than that it’s an occasional car and a lone man pushing a shopping cart full of junk. It’s unseasonably warm tonight. I’m in a t-shirt and yet this guy is wearing at least four winter coats and a hood.
Being here makes me uneasy. This neighborhood is absolutely dangerous and having Alice in the car scares the shit out of me. If anything were to happen to her because of me...I can’t even go there. It would absolutely destroy me. Despite the urge to hold her hand, I remind myself that I don’t have the right.
“Here! Stop here,” Brian orders from the back seat. The Jeep hasn’t made a complete stop and Brian is already jumping out. “You got any money for me?” He has the balls to hold out his hand while he scans the area nervously.
“No,” I immediately fire back. “And if you don’t show up on Thursday at the clinic there won’t be any more money from me. You hear me?” Brian’s eyes get shifty, avoiding mine. “I mean it this time. I’m not going to be responsible for you ODing.”
