All This Life

I’ll flail one last time, one final flop to break out. All these men with angry faces and black eyes pen me in, saying to stay down, stay cool, you sick bastard, and not one of them realizes what they’re doing, that they’re jeopardizing the future. One final flail and I can go over the edge, which isn’t ideal, Albert, which is the last thing we want, but a martyr has to do the unthinkable during emergencies and so I’ll sacrifice myself for you, our savior. These men are trying to fight me back down, and the cop draws his gun and points it at me, and there’s blood all over my face, not simply in my mouth, but spilling from my forehead. I’m woozy and cold and they use the bridge’s railing as a back wall, but they don’t know that’s the direction I need to go to cool down our despairs. The cop has the gun trained on me but it’s impossible to tell him how much sense this makes. I climb over the railing. All that’s left to do is let go. My fingers relax, fingers open, fingers lose contact. I’ll hit the water and open the portal and you’ll save us, Albert, I’ll be gone but everyone will experience a rebirth, a reboot. They’ll all have lives pardoned from sadness and I’m thankful that the last thing anyone will see of me on my way down to the ocean is my lab coat fluttering behind me like a hero’s cape.

25

Despite her bruised face and an undiagnosed concussion, Deb is like a den mother the next day, ordering everyone around. She shuttles Rodney and Sara to the ER, to get a cast on his foot, and while they wait their turn to be helped, Deb makes sure Kathleen hits a meeting.

“I’m too mortified for a meeting,” Kathleen had said when it was first brought up.

“Go get a chip,” Deb had said. “That’s all. You don’t have to share, but you need your one-day coin.”

True to her word, Deb didn’t make Kathleen share during the meeting. It was hard enough finding the courage for Kathleen to stand up and walk to the front for the silver chip. Most people at this meeting knew Kathleen, so seeing her collecting a one-dayer told them all they needed to know. She took a deep breath and made her way to the front, but something strange happened: She didn’t feel much embarrassment retrieving the chip. She had some shame, yet she also had her son. It was impossible for Kathleen to separate these beginnings.

She knew that going forward Deb would watch her closely, make Kat do ninety meetings in ninety days, rebuild that foundation. Kathleen doesn’t want to come across as overconfident because nothing will conjure another relapse quicker than hubris, but it isn’t an opulent confidence. It’s having somebody to lose now that’s tempering her reaction. She’s not going to jeopardize anything with Rodney. This is the first day and her commitment radiates.

After the meeting, Kathleen and Deb walk in Dolores Park across from Kat’s place, killing time until Rodney and Sara call saying they’re done at the ER. It had rained overnight, but the skies are clear, blue. It’s a little past nine, unusually hot, and they wend the path through the park, toward the playground. No parents or kids out there playing, at least none that Kathleen can see. The rain puddles heat from the sunshine, changing states, and steam makes the playground look like the set of a horror movie, dry ice concealing some lurking monster.

“Are they staying with you?” Deb says.

“I don’t really know.”

“You haven’t asked?”

“I’m trying not to put on any pressure,” Kathleen says, “but my inn does have a sudden vacancy.”

“I’m so glad you’re still with us,” Deb says. “I’m trying to keep my mouth shut about what he tried to do, but I’m thankful you’re still here.”