Read Online Awake in Hell by Helen Downing - Free Book Online Page A

after everyone
had begged off and gone home, she and I sat at the bar drinking after hours
with the bartender who threw caution and possibly his ABC license to the wind
and kept on serving us.
    “You
know, I understand why you are such a huge bitch. I just don’t understand why
you pick these times to display it,” she said with a twinge of resignation in
her voice.
    “Sorry,
babe.” I said, and I meant it. “I just panicked. I’m feeling abandoned so I lashed
out. What’s that saying about you only hurt the ones you love?”
    “I
think it’s a song, actually.  But, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that
we are always going to be friends. You are always going to need me, to call at
2 a.m. for a ride, or to pick apart a dream or a new guy. And I am still going
to sit by the phone and wait for that call, and be just a little jealous of you
as I’ve always been. But my life is going to look different now. People grow
up, Lou. Even you may have to face it one day. Just because we allow ourselves
to change, doesn’t mean that we failed at what we were doing before.  It
just means that we’re allowing it to turn into something else.”
    “Letting
the past become the future.” I say, trying to sound profound.
    “THERE’S
the secret to the universe, kid!” Linda said laughing.
    “Yeah,
well let’s not forget that Ms. Margarita has some serious culpability for that
little speech!” I responded, as I waved to the bartender for another round.
    “Maybe
she can talk my Mother off the ledge so that she won’t tackle you, to keep you
out of the church tomorrow,” said Linda.
    “So,
you are really going through with it?” I said, with a just a bit of sadness.
    “Yup.”
    “Then,
I, your maid of dishonor, will be there with bells on. And no one, not even
your scary mother, will be able to stop me!” I said as I lifted my glass.
    That
is where I woke up this morning, disappointed at myself all over again. Not to
mention, feeling just a teensy bit sorry for myself that I was able to prove
Linda wrong and never actually grow up or old. That, along with feeling the
accompanying exhaustion that comes from a night of epic nightmares, forces my
head down on the heated window pane as I lift my face (with eyes closed to
prevent the blinding effects) to the sky and say, “Sorry Linda, Hope today you
are happier than you were yesterday, and I hope all your tomorrows are
wonderful.”
    I
drag myself out of bed and take a peek inside my closet. It takes a moment for
my brain to register why there is an orange jumpsuit hanging in there with my
name over the left breast pocket.
    Oh
yeah, today is my first day at work.

 
    Chapter
Eight
     
     
     
     
    I
pause briefly around the coffee shop area thinking I might get a cup before
work, but then the mayonnaise jar thought occurs to me, so I skip it. I’m
counting on dehydration to get me through this experience.
    I’m
also kind of enjoying my jaunt to employment today. While on earth, wearing an
orange jumpsuit would be a veritable testimony to the bad choices you had made
so far in your life.  In Hell it’s obviously clear that poor judgment was
pretty much a ruling factor during your time as a breather. Paying for it now,
day after day at the Devil’s leisure, you would think would build up a sense of
camaraderie down here. But, since most of us showed no real humanity when we
were actually human, I guess that would be too much to ask for in the land of
the damned.
    So,
down here the rule is, “he who doesn’t look as uncomfortable as me should be
hated, sneered at, and glared down on the street” And, if you are one of the
ones wearing something that looks like it may not be pinching you in your
naughty bits, or riding up the naughtier ones, you feel free to gloat about it.
    And,
while orange has never been a good color for me, and it denotes the fact that
I’m a garbage man, it’s not exactly an uncomfortable outfit. So, I’m doing my
share of gloating this