Page 36 of Honeysuckle
“You’re never going to relate to me, you’re never going to find any unlocked doors to wander through. I don’t want to be friends, and you only keep trying for the sake of a win.” I invaded his space. “For the last fucking time, we don’t need to be friends for me to play baseball like a God, and that’s what I’m going to do. Whether your stupid Manson family cult likes me or not. I’m going to pitch the ball, play the game, and go home every night. End of story.”
Dean stayed quiet, his chest rising and falling in the same slow rhythm as when he slept. I despised how easily he stayed calm. I was all but beating the shit out of him and he was just there, like a brick wall, staring down at me with a smile on his face.
He moved his hand and I flinched. “Whoa,” he said softly. “Here.” He pulled out a set of keys from his pocket. “I got you permission from Silas. Just don’t do anything stupid with it.”
I stared at the keys and put out my hand for him to drop them into my palm.
I hadn’t expected him to be the one to do that for me.
“Thank you,” I said tightly, stepping back.
“I’ll expect you to make up for the practice you’ll be missing.”
Cael drove us back into the city and I was filled with instant regret.
“Can you at least try to follow the speed limit?” I asked him, as he pushed twenty over the limit with a smile on his face.
“Don’t be such a fun sucker.” He rolled his eyes at me and continued his pace. “Just because you were in a foul mood before breakfast doesn’t mean you can steal my joy.”
“You’re a cry baby,” I groaned and closed my eyes to at least get a little sleep before we made it to the city. When I opened them again Cael was pulling up to one of the churches I recognized and my phone was vibrating violently in my pocket as the missed calls from my mother flooded in at the first lick of service. It had been a long time since I was in this end of town and my heart seized at the sight of it.
The church loomed over the dirty neighborhood, mocking the poor by implying that if you just believed in something higher than yourself that it would save you. I wish that were true. I wish that faith had been strong enough to heal me, to heal my mother, but it had never been in our cards. It filled me with a resentment I couldn’t quite understand, one that maybe I would eventually get past, but for today, I just wanted to watch the world burn.
“You picked this place on purpose,” I said as I climbed from the car with him. He looked at me over the roof and propped himself up on his elbows.
“Yeah, and?” He was so honest it was almost a flaw.
“You’re an asshole,” I added.
“Tell me something I don’t know, grumpy groucher.” He slapped the hood and the alarm went off loudly in our ears as he panicked to pull the keys back out.
“Oops.” He shrugged, shoving the keys back in his pocket as we made our way up the steps to the church doors. It was smaller inside than I remembered as a kid; dustier too. There were less pews and, up at the front where I remember the pedestal being, were a few scattered chairs and a couple of guys hovering around talking to one another.
“Cael!” A shabby looking man with an unruly beard and long brown shaggy hair approached us with an overfilled cup of coffee in his hands. He smelled like mold and had stains down the cuffs of his gray dress shirt. “I’m a bit of a mess today,” he said, looking at me like he could read my mind.
“Josh, this is Neil. He runs the meetings here twice a week and I’ve never seen him put together so…” Cael laughed but hugged the weird man.
He went in on me and I stepped back from him.
“He’s jumpy.” Neil laughed and clapped Cael on the shoulder. “Grab a seat, we're going to start,” he said. He turned to me as Cael walked away and looked me up and down. “You’re from around here, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said tightly. "I’m not.”
It was a lie but I had seen that look before and it was always followed by “you’re Deedee Logan’s son.” Which was almost always followed by a fight.
The worst part about Harbor was that everyone knew everyone. When I moved to Lorette for baseball I thought that it was all over, that I never had to hear her name again in that way, but it wasn’t the case. We were only an hour apart and Lorette was the bigger city; most people came in for the night life, stayed for the drugs, and died in the dark back alleys completely forgotten.
I had almost died in those back alleys more than once, and many times before I could even get my hands on alcohol. It wasn’t until I was fourteen that I started getting into my mom’s stash. Whatever would dull the roar of pain and anger that filled my muscles. Vodka was my favorite.
Everyone took their places and the meeting ran through about as normally as those meetings usually do. Everyone explained why they came and we all offered hollow optimism in return. Meetings worked a little differently for my brain. Maybe it was a toxic need to feel shame, but their stories just made me embarrassed enough to never be that person again.
The shame of being a drunk kept me from becoming one again, though it wrecked my mental health, but the anger was better than being face down on the bathroom floor begging for more, just to conceal all the other feelings I didn’t want to feel.
“Josh.” Neil’s weird, grainy voice broke through my sticky thoughts and brought me back to reality. “Anything you wanna share while you’re here?”
I stared at him for a second, contemplating telling him no, but people like him, like me, never settled for that kind of answer. “I’m Josh,” I muttered, nodding tightly as Cael watched me. He knew some of my story, the things I allowed him to hear, but I was careful to never give too much. A simple, clean alcoholic story was enough to get by in most situations, no one ever questioned when I said I was a party kid, used it to feel alive. That was enough for them and it meant I never had to tell anyone what had really happened. It meant I never had to suffer through the feelings of being a weak, defenseless coward ever again.
“Staying sober has gotten tough lately,” I said, with a huff of frustration that sounded a lot like annoyance. “I got in some trouble and had to switch my plans, it uh—” I leaned back in my chair and rolled my shoulders so my back was tight and I could focus on the way the muscles pulled beneath my skin instead of my shame.
