drove off, leaving Shawn to bring the truckhome. “Look at what you’re doing to Mom and Dad,” he told Adam quietly as he got behind the wheel. “They don’t deserve this. You disgust me.”
Shawn was done; he wanted nothing more to do with his brother. He would have “beat the tar” out of Adam right then and there, but he knew that would only add to his parents’ pain, so instead he drove away, leaving Adam standing in the parking lot with Cindy.
Around this time Shawn quit his job as a pharmacist in Little Rock, went to work for his father, and bought a home with his wife, Tina, near Hot Springs. Adam was no longer employed at All Service Electric, and Shawn made it clear that he didn’t want anyone telling Adam where he lived. “We don’t want him coming around,” he said. “I don’t trust him.”
Manda, who was still working on her bachelor’s degree, just wanted her twin brother back. It felt as if a part of her was dying. One day when she was home during spring break, Adam came by to pick up some clothes and she tried to talk sense into him about Cindy and his lifestyle. They argued heatedly, and finally he threw up his arms and said, “I’m done. I’m out of here.” He headed for the door and Manda begged him, “Please, Adam, please don’t go!” Never before had Adam failed to try to make her feel better, to hug her when she was hurting or sad. This time he left without looking back.
Later that day she found a card tucked under the windshield wiper of her car. On the back Adam had written, “Meme, you know I love you.”
She tucked the note into her wallet and treasured it for years. The small piece of paper reminded her that the Adam she knew and loved was still in there somewhere.
For most of the first half of 1995 Adam lived and slept wherever he could flop himself down: the airport terminal, a crack addict’s trailer in the woods, or the house of a friend he hadn’t yet stolen from.
At a loss as to how to help him, Adam’s friends did what they could, taking him in, getting him odd jobs that lasted only until the schedule and responsibility overwhelmed him. The longest stint was working the pit at Stubby’s BBQ, a job that high school buddy Chris Dunkel procured for him at his family’s restaurant in hopes thatgood southern food would encourage Adam to eat more. Adam moved in with Chris, who tried to keep him on a healthy schedule, but once more, he disappeared.
In May 1995 Adam showed up at Jeff’s apartment in Fayetteville, where he was attending the University of Arkansas. Cindy had recently broken up with Adam because he couldn’t give her what she needed, according to Adam. Jeff interpreted this to mean that Adam couldn’t give her enough drugs or drug money.
“Hearing they were apart,” says Jeff, “was the best news I’d had all year.”
But Adam continued his hard-core drug usage, splitting his time either being depressed or trying to forget how depressed he was by shooting himself up with speedballs—a mixture of cocaine and an opiate, usually heroin. He confided in a friend that at times he’d wake up from a drug-induced stupor and have to ask another addict where he was.
Only Adam’s family and closest friends knew the full extent of his problem. Janice and Larry didn’t talk about it openly, instead shouldering most of the stress themselves—all the anxiety, sleeplessness, and obsessive worry.
If a fatal car accident was reported on the radio, Janice immediately thought of Adam. If a body was found floating in a lake, she’d half expect a sheriff to pull up and break the news. When she heard crime reports, she thought of Adam. With any news related to illegal drugs, her mind shifted to Adam.
Most of all, she wondered.
She wondered if she and Larry were doing everything they could for their baby, the precious little boy they’d brought into this world almost twenty-two years earlier. They had talked extensively about intervention, but most of what
Shawn was done; he wanted nothing more to do with his brother. He would have “beat the tar” out of Adam right then and there, but he knew that would only add to his parents’ pain, so instead he drove away, leaving Adam standing in the parking lot with Cindy.
Around this time Shawn quit his job as a pharmacist in Little Rock, went to work for his father, and bought a home with his wife, Tina, near Hot Springs. Adam was no longer employed at All Service Electric, and Shawn made it clear that he didn’t want anyone telling Adam where he lived. “We don’t want him coming around,” he said. “I don’t trust him.”
Manda, who was still working on her bachelor’s degree, just wanted her twin brother back. It felt as if a part of her was dying. One day when she was home during spring break, Adam came by to pick up some clothes and she tried to talk sense into him about Cindy and his lifestyle. They argued heatedly, and finally he threw up his arms and said, “I’m done. I’m out of here.” He headed for the door and Manda begged him, “Please, Adam, please don’t go!” Never before had Adam failed to try to make her feel better, to hug her when she was hurting or sad. This time he left without looking back.
Later that day she found a card tucked under the windshield wiper of her car. On the back Adam had written, “Meme, you know I love you.”
She tucked the note into her wallet and treasured it for years. The small piece of paper reminded her that the Adam she knew and loved was still in there somewhere.
For most of the first half of 1995 Adam lived and slept wherever he could flop himself down: the airport terminal, a crack addict’s trailer in the woods, or the house of a friend he hadn’t yet stolen from.
At a loss as to how to help him, Adam’s friends did what they could, taking him in, getting him odd jobs that lasted only until the schedule and responsibility overwhelmed him. The longest stint was working the pit at Stubby’s BBQ, a job that high school buddy Chris Dunkel procured for him at his family’s restaurant in hopes thatgood southern food would encourage Adam to eat more. Adam moved in with Chris, who tried to keep him on a healthy schedule, but once more, he disappeared.
In May 1995 Adam showed up at Jeff’s apartment in Fayetteville, where he was attending the University of Arkansas. Cindy had recently broken up with Adam because he couldn’t give her what she needed, according to Adam. Jeff interpreted this to mean that Adam couldn’t give her enough drugs or drug money.
“Hearing they were apart,” says Jeff, “was the best news I’d had all year.”
But Adam continued his hard-core drug usage, splitting his time either being depressed or trying to forget how depressed he was by shooting himself up with speedballs—a mixture of cocaine and an opiate, usually heroin. He confided in a friend that at times he’d wake up from a drug-induced stupor and have to ask another addict where he was.
Only Adam’s family and closest friends knew the full extent of his problem. Janice and Larry didn’t talk about it openly, instead shouldering most of the stress themselves—all the anxiety, sleeplessness, and obsessive worry.
If a fatal car accident was reported on the radio, Janice immediately thought of Adam. If a body was found floating in a lake, she’d half expect a sheriff to pull up and break the news. When she heard crime reports, she thought of Adam. With any news related to illegal drugs, her mind shifted to Adam.
Most of all, she wondered.
She wondered if she and Larry were doing everything they could for their baby, the precious little boy they’d brought into this world almost twenty-two years earlier. They had talked extensively about intervention, but most of what
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