Submerged

Chapter Forty-Seven

Edmonton, AB – Monday, June 17, 2013 – 2:48 PM

Marcus found an NA meeting about fifteen minutes from Rebecca’s house. It was being held in the basement of a small Pentecostal church. As much as he missed the familiar crowd of his meetings back home, there was some comfort in being in a room with complete strangers. And no pressure to speak.

Last thing he wanted to do was admit how badly he craved drugs—especially after the stress of recent events. The little devil on his shoulder tried to convince him that he could have just a little bit—enough to take the edge off. The rational side of his mind—he refused to call it angelic—reminded him of the downward spiral he’d quickly go into if he used.

Listening to one man tell his story, how he’d lost everything, including his wife, kids, job and home and was now living on the streets in downtown east Edmonton, brought home the reality of drug addiction. An addict wasn’t in control; the drugs were. And there was no such thing as a small slipup. Using was using, no matter the quantity or the drug of choice.

Choices… that’s what everything comes down to.

Marcus thought about Leo. His best friend had managed to turn his life around after alcoholism and cocaine nearly ruined him. Now he was married to a great woman and had a job he enjoyed. Leo had made all the right choices.

Every morning when Marcus woke up, the first thing he did was make a choice. “Today I’m not going to use drugs, no matter the temptation. Today I will say ‘No!’”

“Anyone else have something to share?” the guy in charge of the meeting asked.

No one spoke up.

“What about you, sir, in the back row? You’re new here, and we welcome you with open arms. Feel free to share.”

Marcus nearly bolted from his chair. “I… uh… not tonight.”

“That’s okay. Maybe next time.”

Next time. It was always “next time.”

Marcus knew he had a mental block that kept him from speaking up at meetings. He’d argued with Leo over it for months. When the time was right, Marcus believed he’d know it, feel it. Leo would then give him shit and tell him it was an excuse. Nothing more.

Is it? Am I making excuses?

He thought about Rebecca. She’d been to hell and back in the last three days. He admired her inner strength. She didn’t make excuses. Not for Wesley, or herself. Not for anyone. She was the first person Marcus felt he could really talk to, about anything.

He was attracted to her. There was no denying that. No excuses either. She was a beautiful woman. Inside and out. He was perplexed by her offer of spending the night, albeit on the couch. Had she done so because she was still afraid? Or did she feel something more?

Jesus, Marcus. She’s grateful. That’s all. You rescued her and her kids. It’s common for people in these situations to feel attracted to their rescuers. But it doesn’t last. It’s not real.

Then again, he wasn’t a very good judge of what was real. He talked to his dead wife’s ghost. How real was that? She came to him during times of intense stress. When he’d had very little sleep. Obviously she was a figment of his exhausted mind. Ghosts weren’t real.

But she led you to Rebecca.

And she’d warned him to hurry in the hospital.

Natural intuition. Nothing more than that.

He listened to the final speaker, all the while rationalizing Jane’s recent “appearances.” He fought back a yawn as people shuffled to their feet, all promising to hold on for one more day.

On his way to the door, he bumped into the leader of the meeting.

“Excuse me,” the guy said, “but is your name Marcus Taylor?”

“Uh, we’re supposed to maintain anonymity here.”

“I know. My apologies. But your picture was in the newspaper. You rescued that woman and her kids.” The man smiled. “You’re a hero. Not many of us in this room can say that.”

“I prefer to think of it as doing the right thing.”

“You’re a 911 operator. Physically searching for someone is beyond your job description, isn’t it? That’s a hero.”

Marcus didn’t know what to say.

“You did the right thing,” the man said. “You showed extreme courage.”

Marcus shrugged. “Like I said, it was right thing to do at the time.”

“Doing the right thing isn’t always easy. That’s why we’re here in this church basement. But you’re on the right track.” The man patted him on the back. “Hopefully one day you’ll show that same kind of courage and share your story.”

“Perhaps.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Taylor. It was an honor meeting you.”

Driving away, Marcus replayed the man’s words in his head.