Madness Most Foul: The Shattered Looking Glass

By Hatter

Books 1-6 of the Shattered Looking Glass Series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ms. Angel
• Release date: May 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781942182009

Book preview

Book 1

Diaries of the Cheshire Girls For Rachael

God rest you

And for all of the sick and suffering inside and outside of these rooms.

1

If you're looking for a happy, light-hearted story then get out while you can. If romantic comedy's your thing or say flowery, poetic garbage like that, just go back to that epic misconception of how the real world works and leave me alone. If you like trite inspirational and meaningless stuff like than don't read any further. If angry is your thing then you've come to the right place. The thing you need to know right now is that this story... my story... the story of Chelsea O'Hara starts in death.

If all you envision in your tiny, little life is entrance to the Gates of Heaven, then I'd suggest you run like hell. My life, my inner ME, my gentle disposition was spawned in a gutter and I will not be moved. So if you're one of those do-gooder's that's lookin' to save a soul then let me save you a little time. In my world Wonderland comes in the form of a drug-induced coma. I'll never reach the light.... but then I'm not looking to. Just a nicer gutter and a better fix. If that's not available... a crappier gutter and a mediocre fix'll do. Whatever it takes right?

Because just like all of you mamby-pamby wanna-bes out there, I'd do anything for my God. The difference is my God is real. You can touch my God... you can snort him, smoke him, swallow him, inhale him, inject him or drink him.... whatever you're into really. It takes all kinds right? In my church we never turn anyone away... but like any temple the problems start with the money-changers. Isn't it always the way?

And suddenly I see...

All of these people are swarming around me. I don't know them. I'm not certain what's going on but I can't feel my legs which tickles in a way. My arm hurts real bad. They are trying to put an oxygen mask on me but I am fighting them tooth and nail. They wanna take away my high. They wanna take away my low. They wanna take away my numb... my perfect numb so screw them. I feel this unbearable buzz in the back of my skull and I start to flail and writhe... some kind of seizure maybe. Please give me more. Please give me heaven.... the heaven of numb.

Flat line.

The Making of Alice

You know I used to have another name. I mean I was born with the name Alisha but it never fit. Maybe it's just me who never fit. I dunno. In all honesty I don't care. I guess when I was little it fit because what else do you really know when you're five? It sounded like a princess name to me then... a pretty princess all thin and gorgeous in her satin gown... like something out of a fairytale maybe.

I would really love to give this story true credibility like that. I would like to start with Once upon a time, and end with Happily ever after. I totally would... except I don't guess the world really works that way. When I was little I would just close my eyes and become the fairy princess on the balcony of that imaginary tower. I used to think that way... you know like I could slay the dragons? Sadly the world taught me different.

When the dragons came for me I wasn't even 10. Those dragons are real bastards too. They crawl in your bed at night instead of staying under the bed where they belong. They whisper in your ear, I can get to you anywhere, any time. So it's a secret and if you tell... I'll kill your Mom. I hate dragons. They are just too big for me to ever stand up and become a fairy princess, y'know?

It's a long time ago... the time when I knew Alisha... before all the dragons and the pirate raids stole away the buried treasure of who she was. Doesn't matter because now I just call myself Alice. I'm pretty sure that that's who the world wants me to be. I mean I watch all those liquor commercials and I know they are really saying, Drink me. Or those ads with the smiling parents and the birthday cake that's on special at the grocery this week... Eat me. that cake can basically eat me... if you get my meaning.

In this world if you want those demons, dragons, pirates or whatever to back off... you basically keep your head down and obey. There's really only one way to fit in anymore.... only one way to blend into a crowd long enough so that whatever monster that's happening by won't notice you. That's my secret to success, obey those laws... talk like everyone else, dress like everyone else and stay thin like everyone else. If you seem to have a mind of your own or think outside of the box in any way you'll stick out. Who wants that really? Who wants to be left open to ridicule? Judgment? Abuse? This is one princess who's staying hidden! Believe it!

So any way even a fairy wanna be needs friends right? There's strength in numbers and I've got no army if the dragons come back. My family moved around a lot and so that lonely space I guess got bigger and bigger. That void where Alisha used to be became a vast wasteland by the time I got to college. I needed to fill that canyon with something else because anorexia wasn't cutting it.

Yes, that's right I have an eating disorder. My idiot mother used to send me away to what she called, Nutrition clinics and what the rest of us, who are based in reality call institutions. I always knew how to play their game because I always knew what the shrinks wanted to hear. It used to piss me off though because those places feed you insanely and then you have to drop the weight all over again.

It was just the beginning of my sophomore year I guess when I finally met Chelsea. She was one of those girls who just pleases the whole crowd... a perfect hostess for the slightly bent you might say. She inspired me... even showed me ways of dropping the weight. I still wonder what happened to her. What happened to my best friend?

***

Some nurse type is yelling, Code Blue and I hear my mother screaming, Chelsea don't you leave! I wonder where my real family is. Not my relatives, but my family. Like say Alice. I remember Alice... it's a long time ago. Or was it earlier today?

"Why did you buy those tampons?' I ask her annoyed. I am pissed  because all that's left in my pipe is a small bud of weed and it isn't nearly enough to keep me going through the day. I'm down on my luck now because I stole from Rudy and he won't let me come in and snort coke with him anymore. Alice is my only hope for a weekend of Numb. I know she'll lend me some money if I just teach her this trick.

Alice just looks at me her pretty, blue eyes scrunched up in confusion and asks, What's wrong with em? You said I needed tampons. Those are the most expensive kind.

Dude, I snap, I never have money so I would never use those. I would use the cheap ones. If you dip those in Vodka they'll just explode.

Well don't they all explode? I mean they are tampons. Any way to get enough Vodka in to get drunk, I'd have to use enough to disintegrate it. I don't think this is gonna work, she moans.

It'll work. I said it'd work didn't I? Have I ever led you wrong? I snap. She doubts my power and I hate that. She calls herself a lost fairy princess and she calls me the High Priestess of Numb. I like that name... don't remember how stoned we were when she gave it to me... but it shows my power and I love that. 

I'm sorry. I just can't understand how this works, she whines at me. I feel crappy for making her get back in line. It is for her own good. If you wanna drop the weight fast, concessions have to be made. Sadly I ask, How long's it been since you've eaten?

Couple days, she replies. I snort my dissatisfaction at her utter stupidity and reply, Then it ain't gonna take much to get you drunk is it? You're half way there already. Don't forget to write the calories down in your food diary.

Thanks for reminding me, she smiles. I know she'll hook me up. I'm half way to Wonderland already!

Chapter 2

I hate detox centers. I hate the smell. The only good thing about hospitals in my opinion is the pharmacy. But hey my shit luck hasn't landed me in that part of the hospital... no lucky me I got the mental ward because some hospitals don't have a separate detox wing. I've seen the girls in here drink the hand sanitizer from the nurses' desk drawer or snort the powders from the janitor's closet because they don't let us out and visitors are watched as if they're the prisoners. I can't say that I haven't been tempted either, but I'm sober now a month and I don't want to die. Snorting heroine even if only occasionally is like Russian roulette with nicer bullets.  Next time maybe I'll lose the gamble. Since I know there's no heaven waiting for me that's a losing horse... pun fully intended.

So I’m all cleaned up and well-fed when Alice walks in and smiles at me. I'm hating myself for saying this to her...

Look dude, I just can't hang with you no more. They say if I do I'll use... so like... yeah, gotta go. I stand up from the table and try to rush out. Alice slams her hand on the table and growls at me to sit because she says she still has a half an hour since no one else came to visit.

So I sit back down, not because she's so angry but because I've never seen her get angry in all the time I've known her. She doesn't know how to do it properly and that sort of makes the idea comical. I gotta know what she does for an encore and so I sit.

You don't get to quit. I mean you can quit drugs and stuff but you can't quit being my friend. You're my best friend... she begins until I cut her off, I'm your only friend because you don't bother talking to anybody else. I gotta go.

No! I'll quit with you, I hear her say. She says it so soft I think she means it. Alice always means it, but this time I can tell she means it a thousand times more. That's what I like about her. She's just... always there.

Dude you can't quit for me, that won't work. Hell as much as you drink that'll fail so instant that it ain't even funny! I say and I am serious but I almost giggle. I don't know why... I just have all of these weird feelings right now and so I feel like I should giggle. Sober will never beat numb!

Oh please I could quit easy. It tastes like shit and I never liked it. Makes me feel gross, she says as if she's writing all this down on her shopping list and I came right under her brand of cereal. Now I'm starting to get pissed at her. Why the hell can't she just follow orders like a good little fairy?

Bullshit! If you never liked it why are you gonna do it then? I mean you drink every day. Somebody who really hates something ain't gonna do it that much. You gonna just stop being anorexic too? I am snapping at her but I can't help it.

I can't stop being anorexic but I could quit the partying. That's easy because I never liked it, she sees into me with those giant blue eyes and the tears there look like a looking glass just showing me what a piece of crap I've been to her all of this time. Sadness is shrinking me. I'm shrinking like I'm in Wonderland and I ate the wrong side of the mushroom or something.

So what'd you do it for Alice? Why? For me? To impress me? I snap but shame is making my voice shake and I swallow so hard my ears pop. She looks down at the table and back up at me and says, No... just to blend in with everyone so that all the world's monsters won't see me. That's why... I just don't want those dragons to come back and eat up my soul. I figure if I just look and act like everyone else then I have a better shot at not becoming prey.

'Dragons again? Bitch what is wrong with you? You are prey Alice! You're my prey. I'm a dragon goddamn it. Can't you see that? I taught you sick shit to get my fix. I'm a dragon."  I shake my head to clear the thoughts of numb and the memories of Wonderland.

"No. You're my friend... my best friend. Did you think I didn't know about enemas before? I used them before... you just told me about using the vodka. Hello I'm anorexic I've used enemas my whole life. But Chelsea I was the one hurting me and I knew it. You can't take that from me. That's my own magic power, not yours.. And anyways how do you know that maybe it wasn't me using you? I mean how do you know that? How do you know I wasn't giving you your drugs to get that info?' Alice yelps and I can see she's plenty angry.

Were you? I wince because before she said anything that thought had really never occurred to me. Would she think of that? Would she be smart enough to manipulate me like I was manipulating her?

It doesn't matter, Alice says lightly, I think we're even! So I'll see you in two weeks when you get out and I'll be dry. However just for future reference I'd really like you to remember that you're not the only one smart enough to turn into a dragon if they need to. Lots of people are just as smart as you! Check fuckin mate! and with that she stomps out and slams the door behind her. I am sitting here just feeling all of this shit that I can't understand or fix and I really want a numb right now...

But I'm confused. Was that yesterday? Was that years? Where's the money-changers? I found a twenty in an old pair of jeans... dirty filthy jeans... hadn't been washed in years, at least it felt like that anyway... stiff almost with dirt and grunge.... now who does that remind me of? Julie? Ruby? What the hell was that chick's name? Ruby? Yeah Ruby... I remember Ruby sorta. I thought I liked her but then she became mega-bitch... is that right? Is it? Ruby.... yeah I DO remember Ruby....

I'm so numb I'm shaking and I think I'll be sick. The smell of bacon and grits is making me so hungry that I want to vomit but I can't on account of I'm empty. I'm wretching a little though. Ruby turns around and looks at me like my mom used to and I suddenly feel like I'm eight years old.  Like any good eight-year-old I am in need of seeing the Cheshire Cat.... but there isn't one. Instead just the blue-green eyes of her tom cat staring at me, purring out a challenge for bacon.

Ruby sighs, knocks the cat off the table and refills my black coffee which tastes like rust and hate. I drink it anyways. I am so thirsty. She hands me a couple of pills and I gladly choke those down.... numb is coming. I guess she can see what I'm thinking because she snaps, Don't get so excited Mijha. It's just vitamin C. She turns back to her bacon and before I know it she is commanding me to eat, refiling my plate, barking more orders at me about food and drink. I just listen. I'm not really sure why I listen because the numb is going further away with every bite. I need the numb. Doesn't she get it?

Thanks, I am saying and even though the high is gone I really am grateful she's being so nice and so motherly. I need a mom right now.

No trouble. So... why you drinking all the damn time? Seriously what made you want to do that to your body?

I dunno, I answer and that's honest because really I don't know why I drink and drug all the time. I think about all the rock stars I used to watch as a kid. I am not thinking straight enough to come up with another reason so I just answer, I mean you know it's glamorous. Everyone does it, right? And you can spare me the, if everyone jumped off a bridge speech okay? I'm not a two-year-old.

She shakes her head and stifles a laugh as if I'm some private punchline. She is quiet at least three full minutes until she says, No. No Mejha I ain't giving that speech today. It doesn't matter to me if you jump or not jump. Makes no difference in my life. Comprende?

I am pissed now. She says she doesn't care if I live or die but she's cooking me breakfast. I grumble at her, Okay so you don't have to care. Who needs you right? But then what's with all the food? Is this like Hell's room-service?

No, she shakes her head and she laughs a little.

What the fuck is so funny to you? What's the joke? I am shaking but I don't know if its rage or the absence of the Numb.

How is it glamorous? It ain't like you a movie star or a millionaire. How it's glamorous? Just then her phone rings and she picks it up and she argues in Spanish with her husband on the other end. I can hear him screaming his half-English obscenities. She hangs up the phone and seems to be thinking about what to say next.

Don't worry. It was just Berto. See we gotta be late on the rent because I missed going to an interview at the hospital today. I didn't want to leave you alone here and I didn't want the ambulance to come get you. People talk.

You worry about an ambulance when you think I'm dying? You worry about what people think instead of if I die? And you're going to play the morals game with me?' I try to growl at her but my voice is still shaky so instead of anger it comes out like guttural hiccups. She giggles and says, Hell no. I worry about people talk and then immigration comes for Mee-Maw. Anyways like I say I don't care if you jump. So tell me how its glamorous... y'know so I can understand Americans okay?"

No man... I mean... you know you go to the parties and you feel so numb... and you dance and... everyone wants to be your friend because you're the life of the party. I mean... you know what I mean now? Glamorous... like a rock star? And people like you, I am trying to explain but the words won't come out like I want them to. She jumps up from the table, startled as the phone rings and she turns it off and stashes it in her bathrobe pocket. She slams the chair into the table and jumps at me pulling me up from the chair and yanking me out of her kitchen and into her mirrored hallway. She spins me to see myself and screams in my ear, Look at your glamorous! Okay? Look at the human shit that's smeared on your face. Your hair is disgusting like you never wash! What's that on your shirt? More glamor huh? I look in the mirror, I really look... vomit is smeared on my shirt... days worth. My clothes are stiff with mud and grime. I catch a glimpse of the back of my jeans from the mirrors hung behind me and I can see dried stains of urine where I wet myself. There are streaks of mud down my arms where the rain tried it's best to bathe me. I am walking filth. I am the punchline of her joke and I am sick, angry, shocked.

You listen to me, it ain't glamor you like. It's a pig-pen you like the way you keep yourself. You smell like a toilet. Is that American glamor cuz I don't know any other gringos that make themselves dress like their clothes is toilet paper okay? You're real glamorous and everybody likes you? Well I don't like you... you see? Because I lost another nursing job cuz you don't know for to even eat everyday. I don't want no rock star and I don't want another toilet! You don't come here and be like that in front of my kids no more okay? What's the name of your rock band? Shit Faces? Oh that's glamor!

I try to walk out. I try to escape her angry words because they are cutting my skin and burning my face. Those words are life. I don't care about life I just want to stop the shakes before I die. I want to leave but she is holding onto my filthy sleeve for dear life.

Oh no. you're gonna leave but you empty the pockets first Mejha! You empty those pockets you got! she commands. I am feeling rage. I protest but she empties them for me yelling that I owe her for the breakfast. Then she says, Look. That's my husband's cuff links! You steal from me when I been takin care for you all this time? Two months you steal from me and eat my food? You got no honor like a gutter rat! And what's that? Little white stones of glamor in that bag and Mee-maw's pills too? I guess Mee-maw's a rock star too! I'ma throw your dirty ass in the street and I'm keeping whatever you got in that bag too... I know my good diamond earrings paid for it so it's mine now! I throw your dirty ass in the street! she is screaming now half in English, half in Spanish as she wrestles the pills and the coke away from me for a second time.

Suddenly somehow I am chasing her down the hall with her marble book-end in my hand, threatening to kill her if she doesn't give back my rocks. I am weak and shaky and she makes it to the toilet first and I watch my whole weekend disappear down the toilet. I drop the book-end and grab her plunger. Maybe I can save it. I try to plunge the coke back up, but she is yanking me out of her house with the plunger in my hand and throwing me out in the cold with no coat... just a plunger that I can't trade for anything.

Keep the plunger. I figure you're a toilet any ways! Get outta my property or I call the policia!

As I walk out the gate crying and sick I see her husband drive up and nearly smash into the gate. He starts to jump out of his car and come at me but I am across the street before he can find out that I stole from him and call the cops. I am relieved as I see him turn his attention away from me... my guts twist though as I hear him yelling in Spanglish. I watch him drag her in by the arm and I can hear the terror in her voice. She is screaming in broken English something like, No please Berto. I threw her out! Please Berto no!

I'm thinking maybe she really was a true friend to take a beating just to give me breakfast. Maybe a mega-bitch friend, but still a friend. I wish I could remember what happened to her. I guess you don't think straight in a coma because a lot of time escapes me now and I can't place it.

***

Chapter 3

I am totally hating the monkey suit that Alice has picked out for me. It's itchy and worse it's a puke green. The blazer's not so bad but the pencil skirt shows my chicken legs... a LOT. I am just wondering whether or not it would be more appropriate for me to be pecking at corn and wagging my chicken legs than actually sitting through a job interview. There's a role I might be more impressive in.

The tubby lady behind the desk looks across the room of interviewees and I can see the roles of fat just wagging and dripping with the anger of her ever-sweaty existence. I look down at my chicken legs and my skeletal wrists and I wonder if she could lend me some of her cellulite so that at least I look a bit less like some idiot in recovery who didn't even have the sense to fix their curves before they decided to entirely sell-out to the evil that is corporate America.  I bite my lip too. Does sobriety make you fat? I mean when you trade fixations... is that going to ruin me?

The lady calls my name and I walk to the desk. I hand her my resume and feel like I'm missing something here. I have been sober less than two months and I should be proud, happy or content or something... right? I feel like I am in the wrong place. I don't fit here. Alice and Ruby have joined forces with Kara to find me a little efficiency that I can afford. I should be proud that I cleaned up my act... I'm not though. I'm scared. I've always drifted from one friend's house to another. I'm sick of all this... normal. Why the hell can't I just keep crashing at Alice's? She says she wants what's best for me. Right!

I say, 24 hours,' out loud to this lady and she looks at me weird. Her dress is as red as her fat face and I watch the reflection of her too much rouge and blood red blouse bouncing off each other. It hurts my head as she says, I'm sorry young miss, what's that?"

Damn she heard me. I'm an addict and no one is ever gonna hire me! I can't think how to answer her so I just say, I can't do this. I'm going to fail epically. He ain't gonna hire me. The fat woman just smiles and says, You don't know that yet. He might hire you and he might not. But if you don't try you'll never know. I look at her and say flatly, Maybe I don't need to know. She peers over these terrible plastic glasses at me. She smiles and says lightly, I think you need to know at least that you are certainly not the worst applicant we've ever had. One guy was wearing a polka-dotted tux when he came in. I picture that and then I laugh. The lady says, Good a smile! Now just take a deep breathe and get in there. It's never a good thing to keep Mr. Argoth waiting.

I feel better but before I get to the door I turn and ask, Hey. Why you being so nice to me? She just shrugs and says, I like your necklace.

I look down and remember the white surrender chip that I got in AA and how Ruby had it made into a silver necklace. I feel bad for the way I treated her. I feel bad for everything. My smile is missing when I walk into the office.

I extend my hand and say, Chelsea O'Hara, like Alice told me to do. I sit and nervously wait in the chair that adheres to the skin that sticks out from under the skirt.

––––––––

I feel so displaced. Damn coma.... damn monkey suit. I feel right now like I did when...

I'm in the alley and I don't know what's worse the cold or waiting for the money-changers to come. I think of Howie and how he said we'd hook-up later. He's good-looking and he's good in bed. When I want something he lets me take it out in trade. That's epic because I don't have enough money for the whole weekend and Kara is too wrapped up in this, sober, happy and free, bullshit to really care if I'm jonesin'. I really don't know where she went wrong. Such a damn sell  out.

I remember there being something... something.... a doctor appointment or something. It was a good opportunity to raid the pharmacy I thought.

She is standing to climb on the table in the exam room and I am just sitting there looking at her and wondering how she's planning to get the doctor to give her some Valium or something. I never was good at that. I always just hock what I steal to get my drugs. I think she's doing this the hard way. But I'll wait with her. She'll pay me in pills right? A free trip to Wonderland for waiting in a doctor's office. It don't get easier than that. Hell maybe I'm the one that's doing it wrong!

The doctor comes in and Kara tells him I'm her neighbor and he just glares at my torn-up jacket as if he doesn't believe her. I'm not going to let it bother me. I wouldn't believe her either.

She starts bombarding him with complaints about back pain... about how she fell and hurt herself. She makes up some weird combination of symptoms even says she has anxiety attacks where she can't breath. He tells her her body is going to feel out of sorts for a while and that he isn't giving her any pills. When she asks why he won't just refill all her prescriptions he tells her that the meds that she is on currently would be bad for the baby.

She stops short. She doesn't talk for a long while and then she blurts...I'm pregnant? How the hell did that happen? He hands her a pamphlet on the birds and bees and shows us out.

But was that yesterday? Last year? How many times have I relapsed? I guess the caterpillar is here somewhere... but where? Where are the money-changers?***

After the interview I am walking out of the building and for some reason I see Howie standing there. I wonder why he is even on this end of town. Maybe he works here because I never see him in a suit and today he's wearing one. I hate it! It covers his tattoos and his biceps. It's a real turn-off to me to picture him any other way than under me. It sucks to think that he's a corporate sell-out.  What sucks worse is that I'm here trying to become one too. I rush away hoping he won't see me. Too late. He calls after me, Chelsea? You clean up nice.

I smile and try to rush away. In AA they said, New playpen, new playmates. I can't be with him again... NOT EVER? I cringe at the thought. I try to rush past as if I'm in a hurry. Kara lent me her car for the day so I blurt, Double-parked, and try to push past.

Don't go, Pigeon. I been lookin for you for like three months. I thought you were dead. Glad you're not. I missed you, he says with that half-smile that always turns me upside-down inside.

No I'm cool. Thanks for worrying. I gotta get to my friend's car before they tow it, I tell him. I tell him everything but the truth. I don't want him to know I'm sober. I don't want him to think I can't party like a debutant. For some reason I am ashamed of that... maybe because if I had a soul-mate Howie'd be it. Yet part of me wants the time I've earned sober because it was hard. I try again to rush away.

I'll pay the ticket, Pigeon. You all dolled-up. Why baby girl? I hope you ain't married some money for brains suit! he flashes me the half-smile again and I shake my head no and look into his eyes. I want to kiss him. I want very much to kiss him here and now and forget my inhibitions. I never had those before. I always had the Numb. The Numb is freedom. Sobriety is a cage suddenly. I jump back as my trac-phone rings. The sharp whiz of the ring-tone pushes me back into reality.

I turn to walk away as I answer. The voice is someone I don't recognize. Howie walks to where I am and slips a piece of paper into my pocket, smiles and walks to his clunker. As he pulls away the voice on the other end of phone says, This is Mrs. Hazel calling from Mr. Argoth's office. I wanted you to know you got the job! Can you start tomorrow morning at 7?

Sure! Great! I find myself giggling. I got it! Me! They hired me! I am almost skipping to my car. This new feeling... this is pride? Joy? I dunno exactly... but I don't ever remember feeling this way before. I can't wait to tell Alice! I am so excited I skip two stop-signs and blow a couple of red-lights.

I call her on my trac-phone but she doesn't answer so I yelp at her answering machine, I got it! All I gotta do is put info into the PC and stuff and I got it! I mean there's filing too... and I ain't real great at alphabetical order but I... the machine tells me to pick an option to save, rerecord, go to menu. I hang up without pressing anything and as I climb the stairs to the apartment it occurs to me that I suck at alphabetical order. But it's cool because that fat, red lady will help me out. She was nice. This is good! This is good. This is good right?

I mean having a job and a place? That's cool. I've never gotten this far at anything before. It's good right? All these sober blessing and shit are good. Very good. This is my chance in life to finally succeed. I'm about to succeed. That's good? I am about to succeed? Ain't I?

I reach in my pocket and fish around for whatever Howie put in there. It's a post-it with his number and an invite to Rudy's for coke  and cocktails tomorrow night. I crumble it up and throw it away. Because all of this is good. Well... I guess it must be. Isn't it? What if it ain't?

––––––––

I am rushing into Ruby's and I see that she is crying by the time I get there. I give her a hug and hand her some of the burnt coffee that was there in her kitchen. I don't know why I do this and I don't know why she drinks it. It's cold. She drinks it the same and stares off into space for a while. She has a bruise on her chest and I guess I am staring at it. She notices because suddenly she shuts her robe.

He hit you again? I demand.

Shit! she laughs lightly, He ain't no trouble. Okay? I got big troubles. So I called you. Okay?

I just nod and pour some more coffee because I can smell the wine on her breath. It makes me want to drink and it makes me nervous. Since I don't know what to do I pour the coffee. I am worried that she smells like wine... even though she isn't drunk... she drank. I never once heard her say anything about that except that good Catholics don't drink. As she says, God's temple is clean in me okay?

What's up? I feel like I am shaking, ready to jump out of my skin with worry for her and want of the numb. Lately things have just been too real. I am longing for Numb because I have nightmares about it.

Linda... okay? It's Linda, she winces the name like it hurts.

She says nothing more for a bit. She just stares off into space.

Your kid? Why? What is it? Can't be that bad, I reassure. I know the kid's grades have dropped but that isn't something that would make Ruby dirty the temple... so to speak.

She's pregnant okay? Ruby weeps softly.

Oh wow! What is she like 14? Son of a bitch! I smile because I don't know what to do and empathy is new... everything is brand new. I don't think I know how to be a friend yet. I don't think I know normal.

She's 17, Ruby replies and I laugh out loud. I say simply, Well hell that ain't so bad. I was 14 when I lost mine. Grand-kids... um... you might like em. I say. I say it as soft as I can because the air is getting thick.

It's more. She's drinking or something. Baby's a miracle. You don't shit on a miracle like that, even if you screwed-up and didn't marry okay? Because God ain't got a lot of miracles to give you okay? But she's shitting on it and me too. Things go missing. Things go missing every day since Mee-maw dies okay? She's stealing and shitting on the baby. You help me find it. You help me throw it away or Berto  throws them in the streets. Okay? You help me keep her from shitting on the baby!Ruby says but then her voice cracks and she is wailing.

You just want me to find her drugs? I ask and I feel really weird about it. On one hand she puts me at risk to use. On the other she must trust me not to. Are we really friends? Am I forgiven? Or just useful? I realize that it doesn't matter to me. She fed me plenty and I owe her.

Okay. She'll just buy more maybe but.. um...  okay, I stammer. She holds her hand up to stop me, You can do it in your new religion? she asks and she looks really worried. I can't explain to her again that AA is a club not a religion. She just don't get it. I still don't believe in God but I go there every day anyways.

Sure. Um it's cool, I just walk away shaking my head... wondering if she is daring me to relapse. I open the kitchen cabinets and I have my answer. Under the cabinet is a baggy wet with spray-paint.

Shit, I mumble, she's huffing... I hold up the zip-lock triumphantly.

So what's that? Ruby asks shaking her head, she was doing an art project okay?

That ain't what she's doing. This is drugs, I insist, You breath it. It makes you high.

'For truth?"

Yeah, I realize suddenly that Ruby's kid ain't like me. Fact is she could actually die. I feel such urgency to help her. Suddenly I am swept up, running through the house finding synthetic marijuana, joints, socks that smell like chemicals. I know every hiding place. I pile more and more... but not for the numb this time... for someone else... for someone who ain't even born and who'll have three heads if it is born. I feel weird like this is destiny but I know there's no destiny in Wonderland... just real curious gambles. I hate sobriety. It fucks your mind.

What do I do okay? Berto hit me when we found out she was pregnant. He'll kill me now. What do I do for this miracle? Her temple is filthy a miracle don't grow in filthy temples okay? she howls.

She has to go to the hospital. Ain't no way to stop once you're bagging, I inform.

Adios Mio! she screams hysterically. She is running in circles and making short, high barking sounds where her breathe used to be.

Look! I yell, grabbing her arm, Your miracle's about to die! God ain't comin' so you have to decide!

She picks up the phone... but I can't remember anymore. When was that? Did that happen? It couldn't have because there were high-balls and I didn't snag 'em. Wouldn't I have done that? I don't remember... What I do remember is that.... that first day of work....

It is almost 6:30 and I am walking to the car that Alice is lending me. I am upset today. Real upset and I'm going to be late on my first day. I am pissed too. I am beyond pissed at her. She only gained 10 pounds all summer. She said we were going to do this together. Then today I find that damn thing in the bathroom trash can smelling like Vodka. Can't she just do her enemas all nice and normal-like? She says she wants to change for me! She says we're sober? Horse shit!

I am so angry at her right now that I am seeing red. I want to kill her and I want to kill me too for teaching her that stupid shit. This is all my fault and for some reason I hate her for it. It's like she's taking away my gift because I handed her a curse. I guess we're solid.

We argued all night 'til 3. She met some guy and went to dinner. So what if he didn't call the morning after? She didn't like it any way! She even called him a dragon. So if you hate him so much what do you care if he calls? I wouldn't care.

So then I find this enema bag and it stinks like liquor and I decide to confront her when she gets up.... but like for once she sleeps in to the point where I’m late. (On purpose I'm sure.)

I don't get it! She changes the television on every damn beer commercial because she says watching it will be poison for me... yet she pulls this!

Well you know... maybe she's right though.

This shit is too hard. Why should I go back there and work with the Red Queen filing bullshit papers in the wrong order? I'll just be humiliated! When Mrs. Hazel finds out I can't figure the difference between g and "z' I'll be a laughing stock. I'd bet everyone will be talking about how stupid I am then. I don't want people to know I'm stupid. I'll bet that's what the fat bitch wants too! People aren't nice to you just because... people are nice to you because they want something from you or they want to show how much better than you they are. I don't need this crap.

I am considering climbing in the dumpster before I know it... in my puke-green suit. It'll be okay. It looks like it belongs there any way.

I threw Howie's number in there somewhere and I have to find it. I open the trash room and see bags there that didn't fit in the dumpster itself. I guess these are newly bagged? The lady that works here just collected whatever came down the chute and bagged it. Right? Howie's number would be in here somewhere. I am tearing open the bag, falling to my knees and rummaging through every single scrap. My suit is getting filthy but I don't care. I've got thirty minutes to get to work but I don't really feel like fighting the traffic today!

Bubble gum wrappers, water bottle labels, can of corn that smells like sewage, old apple-core, religious magazine and this scrap says, Rudy's party and underneath there is a phone number.

Suddenly the door to the trash-room swings open and the cleaning lady walks in with another bag of trash that's about half-full. She looks at me stunned and snaps, What you doin in here? You lose your wedding ring? I am about to say, Yes, but she interrupts, You in 511 right? You stayin with that crazy girl always collecting those glass dragons and shit?

I am scared. I am not supposed to be here and I can't explain this. I can't explain why I'm staying here and I sure as hell can't explain why my lap is covered with garbage. Shit! Shit! Shit! Alice could