A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [171]
We’ll take her from here.
Where’s she going?
Detox.
How long?
Probably a day.
Take good care of her.
We will.
He reaches toward us, Lilly holds tighter. I tell her it’s okay it’s time to go I tell her I love her. She starts crying. I gently push her toward Lincoln who holds her up on one side as Hank walks to the other. When she is gone from me and safe in their arms, I look at Lincoln.
Thank you.
He nods.
Go to bed. Sleep in tomorrow if you want, come to my Office when you wake up.
Okay.
Hank speaks.
And don’t worry about her, she’s going to be fine.
I start to break down.
Thank you both so much. Thank you.
Lincoln nods, Hank says no problem. They turn and start walking Lilly, who is incoherent and babbling again, toward the Medical Wing of the Clinic. I watch them and the tears flow and I fight the sobs. I know she’s in good hands and I know she’s going to be fine, but seeing her this way breaks my fucking heart, destroys me, makes me want to die so that somehow she can live. I watch them walk away and I cry.
They disappear into the Medical Unit. I stand alone in front of the Entrance with my face in my hands and I cry. It is cold and dark and it’s the middle of the night and there’s nothing I can do but cry. I let myself. For her and for her pain and for the World that we have created together. I would give my life if it could somehow make her better. I would have given it earlier tonight, I would give it in the future. If it would make any difference, I would give her my life. I know it won’t make a difference. I cry.
I stop crying and I turn and I walk inside. There is a woman at the Front Desk we say hi to each other and I head back to the Unit. The Halls are empty and silent, everyone is asleep, and when I get to my Room, I open the door and I quietly step inside. Miles is in bed and the lights are out. I get undressed and I climb under the covers of my bed.
I start crying again.
Softly crying.
I think of Lilly and I cry.
It’s all I can do.
Cry.
Chapter 17
I am sitting in the Room with Lilly. I have a loaded pipe in one hand, a bottle of Thunderbird in the other. A torch sits on the floor between my feet. I smoke and drink until I meet oblivion. I love it and I hate it.
The old man is with us. He is pleasuring himself with Lilly. I sit and I watch. I sit and I smoke. I sit and I drink. I care only about the pipe. I care only about the bottle. I am helpless. I love it and I hate it.
The dreams are real, or as real as dreams can be, and in them I see and I hear and I feel and I touch. Inside and out. Images like running film, sounds like a stereo. The crack and the wine in my body are real, the crack and the wine in my mind are real. I fade in and out, between consciousness and unconsciousness, between sanity and insanity. I love it and I hate it. I love it and I hate it.
I give up on sleep. I get out of bed. I walk to the Bathroom. I get in the shower and I wash off all of the dirt from yesterday. I am in the shower for a long time.
I get dressed and leave my Room and get a cup of coffee and walk down the stairs toward Lincoln’s Office. There is a Group Meeting in the Lower Level, and as I pass by it, I can feel the stares of all the men. I don’t look at them. I don’t acknowledge them.
I walk past the Phone Booth down the short Hall. The door is open, Lincoln is sitting at his desk reading the Blue Book, the Big Book, the Bible of Alcoholics Anonymous. He looks up at me as I come in and he speaks.
Have a seat.
I sit across from him.
You sleep well?
No.
Bad dreams?
Yeah.
I thought you’d have them.
Why?
Because you were near it.
That what happens?
It does to me, even after fourteen years.
I guess that’s the price I’ll pay.
I guess it is.
Lincoln stares at me for a moment. Unlike at most of our meetings, his stare isn’t loaded with anger and judgment. He holds up his book, speaks.
You ever read this?
Yeah.
What’d you think?
I didn’t like it. Didn’t ring true for me.
Last night made me think a lot about it.
Why?
Because you aren’t supposed