One Way Out

By Buddy Davis

"When are you ever going to learn!" his sister barked at him as they walked across the parking lot of the county jail. This was where he had spent the night. He didn't know how to answer that question; his head was still spinning from the night before. So he just walked along silently, his head down, looking at the pavement. How could he have known the answer to that question? He couldn't predict the future, and up until now, his life had been pretty unpredictable.

Things were not going very well for him right about now. Although he tried hard to get squared away, bad things just seemed to keep happening. Of course, it was nobody's fault but his own.

After high school, a lot of his friends were going off to college or finding jobs. He came from a poor family, and there was no way that they could pay for college. Besides that, he wasn't interested in college. The only thing he could do at this point was just look for work and try to keep his head above water.

He had quite a few friends, but they all seemed to be following the same career path he had chosen--that is, go to work on Monday, get your check on Friday, and party on the weekends.

The only person that could control him was his father, and he had died. Now at the young age of eighteen, he was free to do as he wished, which, of course, led to a whole bunch of bad decisions.

This style of living went on for years and years. Then slowly, as time went by, things began to change for him. Life was getting better. Over the years he had forgotten about God, but God hadn't forgotten about him. Now he realized that the one thing that was missing in his life was God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639612802

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One Way Out

Buddy Davis

Copyright © 2022 by Buddy Davis

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Introduction

This book is about the life and times of a boy named Buddy, who grew up in the ’70s. It is a true storytelling about all the mistakes he made trying to find his place in this world. After moving out of his parents’ house to share an apartment with friends at the age of seventeen and also losing his father the same year, his mom moved in with a sister because she was getting up in years and the neighborhood was getting more and more unsafe. This made Buddy realize that his childhood home, his safety net, was no longer there for him to go back to. He was on his own. From that point on, he decided that partying and being with friends would be his life. After years of drinking, failed relationships, and nearly dying three times, he would find a way, slowly but surely, to get his life back on track.

Thank you, Mom, for always praying for me!

Chapter 1

It was a hot, very humid day in Houston, Texas, a nice day as I recall. The thing about it was I don’t recall many Sundays back in those days. You’ve heard how Sunday should be a day of rest? Well, back in those days, I really didn’t have much choice. I was usually too hung over from partying and drinking Friday and Saturday nights to do anything else but rest.

This particular Sunday, however, my head was clear for once. Yes, I’d been out the night before and had a couple of beers, but only a couple. Now I was on my way to Sam Houston Hospital, where I was to have a severely torn cartilage in my left knee removed the next day. I wasn’t really looking forward to that, mind you, but like it is with most unpleasant things in life, I was looking forward to having it behind me.

My friend Roy was driving me to the hospital on that uncertain afternoon; I think that Roy knew at that point I certainly knew that my marriage to Sally was behind me. He was trying hard not to though at that point he was still pretending things were salvageable as I had been doing for so long. I’d been staying with Roy and his wife, Connie, for the past couple of nights. Sally and I had had another of our blowups—this one, of all things, about my upcoming surgery.

The last thing Sally had said to me was Go ahead and have your damn operation, but don’t bother coming back here!

I fired back at her: Don’t worry, bitch, I won’t.

So Roy and Connie had taken me in like a homeless puppy the day before.

Saturday afternoon, Roy had been determined to cheer me up, so he said to me, Buddy, let’s get the hell out of here and go have some fun.

So we had gotten ourselves cleaned up—Roy, Connie, and me—and headed on down the road to Pasadena, Texas, and Gilley’s club. It was my first time there. It was a very big place and very interesting. I wasn’t much of a cowboy, but I noticed there were a lot of pretty women.

Looking back on that night, I’m sure that I wasn’t very good company. Janie Frickie was the featured artist that night. She sang those country and Western songs of hers like an angel as I recall. It was all sort of lost on me though; I was preoccupied with the surgery that was in front of me and the marriage that seemed almost certainly behind me at that point, and my knee was starting to hurt from all the walking we had to do. I suppose that is why I didn’t try to do any dancing that night, which I normally loved to do. For that matter, the beer wasn’t flowing as smoothly as it usually does. I did my best not to think about my problems, but you know what that’s like—the more you try to ignore them, the more they crowd in on you. The surgery, my all but over marriage, and the two-year-old daughter I was leaving behind me—all those things were spinning around in my head like leaves in a whirlpool. Believe me, it seemed like that night lasted forever.

Finally, about midnight, Connie looked over at Roy and said, Come on, honey, let’s get out of here. I’m getting tired.

Roy looked over at me, of all people, and asked, Are you ready to go?

My brilliant retort was, Hell no, I’m waiting for the last call!

Luckily, however, no one believed me, and we started making our way slowly, more walking, out into the still sweltering Texas night. We were out in the parking lot now, and I couldn’t help but notice all of the vehicles parked there.

Damn, what an assortment of pickup trucks, I thought. And nearly every one of them had the bumper sticker given out by the local radio station KIKK. The stickers either said I’m Proud To Be A KIKKER or KIKKUP Truck. I didn’t think we had to worry about getting a sticker because we came in a 1976 Ford LTD, not a truck. All of a sudden, I heard Roy throwing a fit. Apparently, someone had also put a sticker on his car—well, actually Connie’s car. Either way, he wasn’t really happy about it.

He kneeled down to try and rip it off, but Connie stopped him. Just leave it, and we’ll worry about it tomorrow. Later I found out that she actually liked it.

Finally, we were headed home, Connie driving, Roy up on the front seat beside her, and me sort of sprawled out across the backseat. This was before so much was made about the designated driver, but Connie didn’t drink—ever—so that made for a really nice setup for Roy. Just as we pulled out into traffic, Roy reached into the cooler he had brought and handed me a cold can of Schlitz for the drive home; and forty-five minutes later, when we got back to their apartment, he handed me another.

Hell, Buddy, he said. I mean, why not? It’s the last night before you go into the hospital after all. You mark my words now—you’ll go into that hospital and you’ll get that bum knee all fixed up and then you’ll go right back home and get your marriage fixed up. It’ll work out, you wait and see.

Sure, man, I replied. Whatever you say.

At this point, I wasn’t exactly sure I wanted my marriage to be fixed. You see, there was just no more love to be lost between Sally and me. There never had been that much to start with, for that matter. The only real bond that we had left was our baby girl. Sally and I had fought drunk, we had fought sober, we fought fair, and we fought unfairly. We had fought just about every hour of the day and night. You name it—and Sally and I fought about it. I hate to admit it, but a couple of times I came very close to striking her; and if it was bad for us, what was it doing to this little two-year-old baby? At that tender age, maybe she just thought it was normal. What a horrible thought.

* * * * *

Buddy?

I shook myself back to reality. Roy’s truck had stopped, and he was sort of leaning across the front seat, grinning at me.

We’re here, man, at the hospital. He paused for a moment. Where in the hell were you just now? You were a million miles away.

No, not quite a million, I said. So that’s the hospital, huh? Nice-looking place, eh, Roy?

I think I was just trying to convince myself. I really didn’t want to get out of the truck and go in there, but I knew, of course, I had to.

Nice enough for a hospital, I guess, Roy said. You know me, Buddy, I never did like hospitals, probably never will.

Never? I asked.

No, never, grinning at me now as he pulled into a parking spot. If the good Lord wanted me to like hospitals, he would have made me a doctor instead of a tile setter.

Hmm, the good Lord, huh. I hadn’t thought about the good Lord for a while. I wonder if he’s thinking about me? I hoped so. Right now I’m gonna need all the help I can get!

I had to hand it to Roy—he was really good to me that day. He did not like hospitals, and I knew that he didn’t, but he didn’t just dump me out at the front door; he stayed with me until I was settled in. We went in and got all the paperwork filled out, and then he walked beside me while the orderly rolled me up to my room. Then after the orderly left, he played with the remote control of the TV, checking out the stations.

What! No cable? he said. He set the remote down on the bed then clapped me on the shoulder and said, Well, Buddy, I guess I better be getting on down the road. I just know that things are gonna work out for you…the operation and, well, you know. Call me if you need anything, brother. I mean that! He gave a little wave of his hand, and out the door he went.

Hey, Roy, I yelled. Thanks for everything, man!

And then he was gone, and there I sat alone—nobody to talk to, no place to go.

I wonder if they have room service in this resort, I muttered to myself as I stood up and hobbled over to the window. I pulled back the curtains to let the sunshine in. It was a beautifully clear afternoon, but my room was on the wrong side of the hospital to catch the afternoon sun. However, that wasn’t too bad of a view I had of the parking lot down below. I could sit and watch the cars go by and the people walking around, talking about whatever. My leg was really beginning to hurt me now. That had been a dumb trick going out the night before and doing all that walking. Of course, that has been Roy’s idea, not mine; and after all, he had really just been trying to get my mind off my problems. I hobbled back to the bed and lay down. I was in a semiprivate room, but I had it all to myself for the present at least. I flipped quickly through the television channels again; there was nothing on that I wanted to see anyway. So I just sort of lay there for a while, listening to the muffled noises from the hall.

The occasional distant sound of people talking, footsteps going up and down, a modulated voice over the PA system, a soft bell ringing somewhere. Suddenly it dawned on me that I was at peace with myself—for the first time in a long time. This was really nice, relaxing. That’s what it was—relaxing—and gradually I found myself making plans for the time when I would have the surgery behind me. Not quite as starry-eyed as the scenario that Roy had spun for me the night before, mind you, but optimistic nonetheless. First, I get my knee fixed up, I thought. That’s number one, that’s tomorrow. Then I get out of here, and I get a place of my own. Yes, that’s the ticket. I’ll get a place that’s all mine, nobody else to worry about, nobody to bug me or to fight with—just me!

And then, as it always seems to do eventually, reality sets in. Just me? No way. What about that little baby girl? Sally and I would be divorced, that was a certainty. There was no way in the world that we could ever get that relationship back into shape. The sad truth was we never really had a strong relationship. But what about this little kid who had taken a piece of my heart, who was in a real sense of a part of me. Thinking about her and what we were doing to her made me ache with a hurting that completely eclipsed the hurting in my knee. Tomorrow my knee would be fixed, and eventually, that pain would go away. But this hurt that I was feeling over my kid was sharper and deeper than any physical pain could ever be. And when would that pain end? I didn’t know then, but now I know—it never ends.

However, had I gotten myself into such a mess? I wondered. One thing was for sure, if my father had been living, I wouldn’t be in this fix. For that matter, I probably wouldn’t even be in Texas. Dad had been gifted with a surefire way of making a person see the error of his ways. It hadn’t had much to do with subtle arguments or philosophy, but it had surely been effective nonetheless.

Lying there in my hospital bed whiling away that Sunday afternoon, I thought back to a time—it must have been when I was in the seventh grade. Yes, I was in the seventh grade, and the girl in this case—her name was Alice I remember—had been in the eighth grade. By that time in my life, I had had a few crushes on cute girls but never dated any. A female friend of mine told me that her friend thought I was cute! So, of course, after hearing this, I had to meet this young lady. We hung out before and after school sometimes and talked about things, but nothing too serious. There was a time when we passed notes back and forth, which was the cool thing to do in junior high school.

Well anyway, as things progressed, I got her phone number and called her up one night and asked her if she wanted to meet me at the Little League field to watch a game. This was a really big step for me because in actuality, I had just asked a girl out on a date! She agreed. We set a time to meet, and now the date was on. Now this Little League field that I am speaking of was a good eight miles from my house. I started thinking even with a good knee at that time of my life, it was a long way to walk. My bicycle was broken down, and I figured I would look like a dork pulling up for my first romantic evening. I had no other way to get there. Then I thought I’ll just ask my dad if he could drive me over there. Besides that, I didn’t really have enough time to walk and be on time.

My dad was sitting on the front porch, not doing anything, so I went out all innocent-like and asked him if he could give me a ride.

A ride? he asked. Where do you want a ride to? He looked at me suspiciously.

To the Little League field, I answered.

Why are you going over there? he asked.

Why does anybody go over there? I replied testily.

To watch a game!

What is this—twenty questions I counted. I hadn’t really intended to tell him about Alice, but I could see now that I would have to.

Okay, I’m going to meet a girl there. Her name is Alice, and we’re going to watch the game together. Big deal!

Dad nodded. I thought it was something like that. The way you’re going, you’re going to be married with six kids by the time you’re twenty!

Well, I really knew better than to do what I did next, but his saying this made me mad. I stood there and looked him straight in the eye and barked back at him. Well if I do, it’s my damn business and none of yours!

The next thing I knew, I was lying on the dining room floor with an aching jaw. Now when you’re standing on the porch in my old house, you have to go through the living room to get to the dining room. It’s still a mystery to me how I did that without my knowing about it, but it might have had something to do with that fist I saw approaching just after I made my smart-aleck reply. Needless to say, my dad didn’t take me anywhere that day—at least not to the ballpark.

Yes, if my dad had lived a little longer, I might not have been in this mess; but he had died at age sixty-five with emphysema, the result, at least partially, of all those unfiltered Camel cigarettes he had smoked for about fifty years. I was eighteen years old when my father died, and I guess the good news was that he always said he wanted to live to see me raised. Was I raised? You’re probably not raised when you do as many stupid things as I did in those years.

Lying there in that hospital bed feeling more and more sorry for myself, I found myself thinking, Face it, man…your dad can’t help you now. You’re going to have to face this one on your own. And I found myself missing him more than I ever had before. See, Dad might have been a little rough around the edges—well, maybe a lot rough around the edges—but he was basically a good man, and in his own way we knew that he loved us.

Damn! My knee was really hurting me now. I was glad that I would be having the surgery tomorrow; hopefully, that would be the end of my knee problems. If only all the rest of my problems could be so easily managed. I flirted with the idea of calling the nurse and getting something for the pain, but then I decided to tough it out. What would the old gang back in Gulfport, Florida, think? George, Lurch, and Dawn, and all the rest of the gang think of me wimping out from a little bit of pain. Maybe if I just lay back for a while and rested, that would help. Goodness knows I didn’t have all that much else to do right now. I scrunched around a bit and settled myself as best I could then closed my eyes.

Funny I should think of my friends back in Gulfport. That was where I had met Sally. It was at a bar called Gulfport on the Rocks. Thinking about that, I couldn’t help but smile despite my pain, thinking how prophetic that bar’s name had turned out to be so far as Sally and I were concerned. Our relationship was definitely on the rocks. I remembered that Dawn had been there that night. She had been a pretty big part of my life for a while back in Gulfport.

Lying there waiting for the ache in my knee to ease off, I found my mind drifting back to those days with Dawn and the wild times we had all experienced together.

Chapter 2

Gulfport, Florida, back in the ’70s what a place that had been to party! The lifestyle of that small waterfront town of old drunks, young drunks, bars, restaurants, gift shops for the tourists, and retired people on three-wheeled bicycles. However, there was no generation gap. Some of my best drinking buddies rode those bicycles. It had been the ruin of many a young man and woman. How I wish personally that it had been the ruin of one less person. Five bars within a quarter mile and live rock and roll screaming down the boulevard on weekends and holidays. It was a paradise for both the full-time and the part-time freaks that partied on that strip, and with the beach and Boca Ciega Bay right across the street, well, what more could you ask?

The group of friends that I hung out with had long since been drinking and had, at long last, reached drinking age as well. It was almost as sure as night follows day that we’d begin drifting toward the bar and the beach scene. About the only serious rival that I had in that crowd, party wise, was my friend Lurch. Lurch stood about six feet four and weighed, say, 130 pounds dripping wet. He had a voice like a bullfrog and tattoos just about anywhere you could stick one. Lurch and I were old friends going back to the sandlot baseball days, but as we got older, we left baseball behind us and applied ourselves to more serious pursuits such as drinking, smoking pot, and chasing the girls. At one point, Lurch and I