A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [16]
I laugh.
Something funny?
I laugh again. He looks like Gene Hackman.
You think this is funny, you Little Fuck?
I stare at him and I smile. I have no teeth and the thought makes me smile more.
You think this is fucking funny?
I stare at him. He has hard, angry, violent eyes. I understand his eyes and I know how to deal with them. This is familiar territory.
I stand and my smile disappears. I stare at the man and the Room becomes quiet. I speak.
I don’t know you. I don’t remember ever seeing you, I don’t remember ever speaking to you and I certainly don’t remember ever calling you Gene Hackman, but if I did, yeah, I think it’s funny.
I can feel that most of the People in the Dining Room are watching us and my heartbeat increases and the man stares at me and his eyes are hard, angry and violent. I know I’m in no shape for this, but I don’t care. I feel myself getting ready. I tense up, clench my jaw, stare straight ahead, eyes fixed, focused and unblinking.
If you’re gonna force me to beat your ass, Old Man, we might as well get on with it.
He’s shocked. Not scared or unwilling, just shocked. I stare straight ahead.
What’d you just say?
Eyes fixed, focused and unblinking.
I said if you’re gonna force me to beat your ass, we might as well get on with it.
What’s your name, Kid?
James.
James, I’m Leonard.
He smiles.
I don’t know if you’re the stupidest fuck I ever met or the bravest, but if you answer one question for me, I’ll consider letting that last remark slide.
What’s the question, Leonard?
Are you fucked up, James?
Yeah, Leonard, I’m fucked up. I’m fucked up real bad.
Good, cause I’m fucked up too. I like fucked-up people and I try to associate with them as much as I can. Why don’t we sit and have lunch together, see if we can forget about our differences and become friends. I could use a friend in here.
All right.
We sit and we eat our lunches and Leonard talks and I listen to him talk. Leonard is from Las Vegas and he has been here for a week. He’s addicted to cocaine and has been planning his stay here for over a year. For the last twelve months he’s done nothing but eat rich food, drink expensive wine, play golf and snort enormous amounts of blow. He has done enough, he says, that if he does it again he will die. I don’t know what he does for a living, but I know it’s not legal and I know he does it well. I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his words, recognize it in the easy way he speaks of things most people would consider horrific. I am comfortable with Leonard. More comfortable with him than anyone else whom I have met in here. He speaks easily of horror. He is a Criminal of some sort. I am comfortable with him.
We finish eating and we put our trays away and we leave the Dining Room and we go to the Lecture Hall. Female Patients sit on one side of the Hall, males on the other, and the total number of Patients is around two hundred and fifty. Everyone sits with their Unit and as Leonard and I sit down among the twenty men of Sawyer, a Doctor on a Stage starts speaking to us about the concept of Alcoholism and Addiction as a disease.
I start to feel sick. Waves of nausea pulse through me. I get cold. I close my eyes and I open them and I close them again. I do it quickly, I do it slowly. I start to shiver and I stare at the seat in front of me and it’s moving. It starts to talk to me so I look away and I see blue and silver lights dancing everywhere. I close my eyes and the lights dance through my brain. I can feel my blood crawling slowly through my heart and I think I’m going to pass out so I grab my face with one of my hands and I squeeze my face. It hurts, but I want the pain because it makes this nightmare a reality and it keeps me from going insane. The pain is immense, but I need it because it keeps me from going insane.
The Doctor finishes speaking and the Patients start clapping and I let go of my face and I take a deep breath and I stare straight ahead. Leonard taps me on the shoulder.
You all right?
No.
You need some help?
No.
You