A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [65]
John?
He stops, lies still.
John?
Still.
John?
What do you want?
It’s time for dinner.
I don’t want to eat dinner.
What are you gonna do?
Stay here.
That’s stupid.
Go away.
Get out from under there and come have dinner.
Go away.
I’m not leaving until you do.
Go away.
No.
He throws the covers off of himself and he stares at me with his hardest look. I laugh at him.
What’s so funny?
Your Tough Guy look isn’t very tough.
I’m tougher than you think.
Yeah, you probably are, but you sure don’t look it.
He changes his face into a strange grimace and snarls. I laugh at him again.
That’s not any better.
It’s not?
No.
He relaxes, looks normal.
I wanna be alone.
Being alone won’t do any good for you, John.
I wanna be alone.
It’s better to be around people. It makes it hurt less.
How do you know?
I know.
No you don’t.
Trust me, I do.
John looks at me, looks down at his blanket.
Come on, let’s go.
He looks up.
It hurts a lot, James.
I know it does.
I wish it would go away.
I know the feeling.
What do you do?
Deal with it, and hope someday that you don’t have to anymore.
He looks down.
Yeah.
He looks up and he swings his legs off the bed and he stands and I stand and we walk out of the Room. We walk into the Unit and we get in the back of a line. The food has been delivered and set up on a table on the Upper Level. The line runs from the table down the stairs that lead to the Lower Level. As the line moves forward, and as I get closer to the food, the smell ignites my hunger. I want to eat and I want to eat immediately and I want to eat until I explode. I want want want want. Fuel. Right fucking now.
As I begin to climb the stairs, my hunger and my need begin to overwhelm me. My hands start shaking, my heart rate increases, I’m nervous, anxious and angry. I stare at the food. I don’t see or hear or smell anything else. Each second is an hour long, each step a marathon. I want, want, want, want. Fuel. Right fucking now. I would kill if somebody tried to take the food away, I would kill if somebody tried to stop me from getting to it. Need need need need need.
I reach the end of the table, pick up a plate, stuff a plastic knife and a plastic fork and a paper napkin in my pocket. The food is on trays and in bowls and a man from the Restaurant is serving it and Leonard is standing next to him supervising. He asks me what I want and I say everything. He asks me what part of the turducken I like and I tell him I don’t know what a turducken is and I don’t care what it is, I just want a lot of it. Leonard laughs at me as I ask for more and more and more. I could give a shit about him right now. I want need fuel now.
I sit down on a couch next to John and I pull the fork out of my pocket and I try to use it but my hand is shaking too much to use it so I start shoveling food into my mouth with my fingers. I don’t look at it, I don’t taste it, I chew it enough so that I can swallow it. It is not important to experience it or enjoy it. It is important to fill. That is all I want out of this meal. Enough to fill.
I finish my plate and I get another one. I finish that plate and I get another one. I finish that plate and I get another one. I finish that plate. I am beyond full, beyond stuffed. I have moved beyond need and into abuse and I am comfortable. My heart and my hands are slowing down, my senses and the ability to think are returning, the nerves, anxiety and anger are fading away. Beyond need and into abuse. It is nice to be comfortable. It is nice to be Home.
I take a deep breath. I can feel my stomach stretching. I know it’s not going to stretch enough. It hasn’t come yet, but it will. It will come fast and hard.
I stand and John asks me where I’m going and I tell him that I’ll be right back and I start walking back to the Room. I walk up the stairs, through the Upper Level, down a short Hall.