A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [46]
I take a deep breath and I wonder how many breaths I have left. I feel my heart beat and I wonder how many more. I run my hands along my body and my body is warm and soft and I know that soon it will be cold and hard. I feel my hair, my eyes, my nose, my lips. I feel the whiskers growing on my cheeks. I touch the skin on my neck, my chest, my arms. It will all be rotting soon. Decomposing and disintegrating. Disappearing. Every trace will cease to exist. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We return from which we came. I will be rotting and decomposing and disintegrating soon.
I hear the door open and I sit up. Roy and Lincoln walk in. Roy is smirking and Lincoln looks pissed. Lincoln speaks.
What are you doing?
Sitting here.
Why aren’t you in group?
I needed some time alone.
You should have told somebody.
I didn’t feel like telling anybody.
Things here aren’t always about what you feel like doing.
If you’re here to bitch at me about group, I’ll go right now. If you’re here to bitch about something else, let’s get it over with.
Lincoln turns to Roy.
Roy.
Roy steps forward.
You didn’t clean the Group Toilets this morning.
I laugh. Roy looks at Lincoln. Lincoln speaks.
What’s so funny?
His dumb-ass attempt to get me in trouble.
Roy speaks.
I’m not attempting anything. You didn’t clean the Group Toilets this morning.
I laugh again.
Fuck you, Roy.
Roy looks at Lincoln. Lincoln looks at me.
They’re not clean, James. He just showed them to me.
I look at him.
I cleaned them at about four o’clock this morning. Cleaned them till they fucking sparkled. If they’re dirty now it’s because somebody used them or somebody, most likely him, fucked them up to get me in trouble.
Roy speaks.
Not true.
I laugh.
Fuck you, Roy.
He turns to Lincoln. Whines like a spoiled little boy.
It’s not true.
Lincoln speaks.
Whether they were clean earlier is irrelevant. It’s your job to keep them clean all the time and right now they’re dirty as hell. You need to go clean them again.
No way.
Absolutely yes.
No fucking way.
Right now.
You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna touch those toilets. I cleaned them earlier and Roy fucked them up to get me in trouble. Let Roy clean the goddamn things this time.
Lincoln steps forward, I lean against the back of the bed. He looms over me, puts on his fighting face.
You’re going to clean them whether you want to or not and you’re going to do it right now and you’re not going to say another word about it. You understand me?
I push myself off the bed and I stand and I stare him in the eye.
You gonna force me?
I stare him in the eye.
You gonna try to force me?
I stare him in the eye.
Come on, Lincoln. What are you gonna do?
We stare at each other, breathe slow, clench our jaws, wait for a jump. I know nothing is going to happen and that gives me the advantage. I know that if he touches me he’ll lose his job. I know the job is too important to him to risk for me. I know he’s gotten soft after years of sobriety and I know that at this point, the black clothes and the boots and the haircut are little more than a costume. I know nothing is going to happen and that he has taken this so far is humorous to me. I laugh in his face. He speaks.
This is not a laughing matter.
I laugh again.
I’m not cleaning your fucking toilets, Tough Guy. No fucking way.
I step around him.
James.
I start to leave.
No fucking way.
I walk past Roy and I walk out of the room and I go to the Upper Level of the Unit and I drink a cup of coffee and I smoke a couple of cigarettes and the nicotine and the caffeine feel good inside of me. They speed up my heart, slow down my brain, settle my hands, jump-start my feet. They are strong enough so that I can feel their effects, but not strong enough to really do anything significant.