prayer can ever be.
I get my skinny ass back into bed. I tell myself that I’ll be okay after a while. Time heals everything but sometimes it’s too damned slow. Pain can only be fought alone and my soul is on the motel room floor beside me, so I don’t have anything to pray with. After a few minutes I fall asleep, and I sleep until midmorning.
Getting a second stab at the day. My head hurts like hell but I don’t feel like I’m about to die, anymore. I stick my head outside again. It’s still cold. Damned if the men aren’t still catching their Zs. I’m still wearing my coat and boots from last night so I stagger outside. There’s booze bottles everywhere around the cold firepit. Luscious hears me and drifts out of his room. He looks like he doesn’t have a hangover. He looks like he’s feeling no pain at all, but I seem to remember him matching me drink for drink. He smiles and he’s holding a pill bottle in his big hand. I read Oxycontin on the label. It’s about the perfect cure for a hangover. It’s about the best way to prevent one, too, as long as you don’t take too much.
“Sorry, boss,” he says. “I couldn’t face another ball crusher of a morning.”
“You could’ve given me some of that stuff, buddy.”
I’m hurting and he’s smiling and we’re alone and I’m not armed. The overcast is like a dirty church ceiling and birds are flying and eating and singing. The birds make me happy, because they’re like radiation gauges. Luscious gives me a hard look, then he starts cracking up because that’s what guys do when they’re stoned and they’ve kept something from their leader. I tell myself that keeping the drugs from me wasn’t like mutiny—it was only like playing a joke. Luscious is getting off on seeing my pain, and I guess it’s a good sign, but I look back at the motel and take notice of where I propped up my rifle.
“You look like you crawled from a dead mule’s asshole.”
“Thanks,” I say, thinking,
Why not let him have his fun? Why not let this play out?
He points to the pill bottle.
“Take some, now. Get yourself wasted and take a day of vacation.” He waves his arm at the motel. “I can handle the girls for one day.”
Luscious always calls the men “girls” when he’s in a good mood.
“Ah hell, I’m awake now. Might as well face the music.”
I see another pill bottle on a rock by the firepit. It’s empty. That’s twenty-five pills, plus the half-empty bottle Luscious gave me. That’s enough to give every man at least one dose.
“The men are sleeping like babies, are they?”
“Yep. Every last one of ’em.”
“You didn’t let them OD, did you?”
“Nope. Rationed out the happy pills myself.”
Just after we took over the town, we ended up with lots of drugs we found in the market and the houses and the cars. I had to lock them up in a little safe at the junkyard before the men could swallow and snort and shoot themselves into druggie paradise. I’m not a prude, but I didn’t want a bunch of dead or strung-out pirates on my hands. I hold out the pill bottle.
“Did this come from our stash?” I’m still smiling, but Luscious gets serious in a hurry.
“God, no. The hippies had it on them. Our other drugs are still locked in the safe.”
“Okay,” I say. “So this is just your average, everyday smartassed conspiracy, all of you guys working together to get over on your boss?”
Luscious lets his breath back out. His smile comes back.
“That’s just what it is. I’ll make us something to eat while you go clean up the puke pile you laid in your room.”
“You heard that, did you?”
“I thought I was gonna have to send for an exorcist.”
He laughs his low laugh and he’s very damned pleased with himself. I’m glad that he’s not so afraid of me that he can’t have some fun. Ookie is probably laughing his ass off, too, in heaven. I’m hurting like hell and the pain is my own damned fault, so I guess it’s okay
I get my skinny ass back into bed. I tell myself that I’ll be okay after a while. Time heals everything but sometimes it’s too damned slow. Pain can only be fought alone and my soul is on the motel room floor beside me, so I don’t have anything to pray with. After a few minutes I fall asleep, and I sleep until midmorning.
Getting a second stab at the day. My head hurts like hell but I don’t feel like I’m about to die, anymore. I stick my head outside again. It’s still cold. Damned if the men aren’t still catching their Zs. I’m still wearing my coat and boots from last night so I stagger outside. There’s booze bottles everywhere around the cold firepit. Luscious hears me and drifts out of his room. He looks like he doesn’t have a hangover. He looks like he’s feeling no pain at all, but I seem to remember him matching me drink for drink. He smiles and he’s holding a pill bottle in his big hand. I read Oxycontin on the label. It’s about the perfect cure for a hangover. It’s about the best way to prevent one, too, as long as you don’t take too much.
“Sorry, boss,” he says. “I couldn’t face another ball crusher of a morning.”
“You could’ve given me some of that stuff, buddy.”
I’m hurting and he’s smiling and we’re alone and I’m not armed. The overcast is like a dirty church ceiling and birds are flying and eating and singing. The birds make me happy, because they’re like radiation gauges. Luscious gives me a hard look, then he starts cracking up because that’s what guys do when they’re stoned and they’ve kept something from their leader. I tell myself that keeping the drugs from me wasn’t like mutiny—it was only like playing a joke. Luscious is getting off on seeing my pain, and I guess it’s a good sign, but I look back at the motel and take notice of where I propped up my rifle.
“You look like you crawled from a dead mule’s asshole.”
“Thanks,” I say, thinking,
Why not let him have his fun? Why not let this play out?
He points to the pill bottle.
“Take some, now. Get yourself wasted and take a day of vacation.” He waves his arm at the motel. “I can handle the girls for one day.”
Luscious always calls the men “girls” when he’s in a good mood.
“Ah hell, I’m awake now. Might as well face the music.”
I see another pill bottle on a rock by the firepit. It’s empty. That’s twenty-five pills, plus the half-empty bottle Luscious gave me. That’s enough to give every man at least one dose.
“The men are sleeping like babies, are they?”
“Yep. Every last one of ’em.”
“You didn’t let them OD, did you?”
“Nope. Rationed out the happy pills myself.”
Just after we took over the town, we ended up with lots of drugs we found in the market and the houses and the cars. I had to lock them up in a little safe at the junkyard before the men could swallow and snort and shoot themselves into druggie paradise. I’m not a prude, but I didn’t want a bunch of dead or strung-out pirates on my hands. I hold out the pill bottle.
“Did this come from our stash?” I’m still smiling, but Luscious gets serious in a hurry.
“God, no. The hippies had it on them. Our other drugs are still locked in the safe.”
“Okay,” I say. “So this is just your average, everyday smartassed conspiracy, all of you guys working together to get over on your boss?”
Luscious lets his breath back out. His smile comes back.
“That’s just what it is. I’ll make us something to eat while you go clean up the puke pile you laid in your room.”
“You heard that, did you?”
“I thought I was gonna have to send for an exorcist.”
He laughs his low laugh and he’s very damned pleased with himself. I’m glad that he’s not so afraid of me that he can’t have some fun. Ookie is probably laughing his ass off, too, in heaven. I’m hurting like hell and the pain is my own damned fault, so I guess it’s okay
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