Page 59 of Whiskey Shivers

I didn’t feel particularly good about it, but the adults at the table I was sitting at all agreed, that while the kid would see me as a narc, and no one liked a narc, there was a time and place for everything, and handling the level of inappropriate vitriol in his emails was above my paygrade as a lowly teacher.

Chainsaw was particularly upset at the contents and said he’d like five minutes with the little shit for a lesson about respect.

Louie seemed to have a different view. He seemed to think that the kid wasn’t getting any attention at home and that even negative attention was better than none at this point in his life. I was inclined to agree with that view.

Still…

“After what happened, this is just plain scary,” I murmured.

Louie looked sympathetic.

“Boys are different from girls,” he said with a shrug. “I did some similar stupid shit when I was that age. It’s a miracle I didn’t end up in juvie or expelled. Then again, I dropped out before I could be expelled, so there’s that.”

“Trust me, I understand it’s hard growing up with an addict as a mom,” I said. “I’ve been there.”

Louie perked up a bit at that. “Me too!”

I gave him an empathetic look. “Mine was heroin,” I said.

“Mine was more meth.” He shrugged, and I caught a glimpse of that terrified wounded inner child and I felt my own wounded little girl reach out a hand, just wanting to be friends.

“I think you’re right, though,” I mused. “I think girls just try to stay in their lane and do everything to unmitigated perfection, in hopes of getting the attention they crave. At least that’s what I did.”

Louie nodded and then shook his head. “Yeah, not boys. I think when we can’t get the attention we’re looking for or crave at that age, we try something different and just go wildin’ out until somebody sees us… but, at least for me, it didn’t work out that way. Like I got a bunch of attention, alright – but they still didn’t see me, you know?”

I nodded. “They didn’t see me either,” I said.

I sighed and Chainsaw leaned back in his chair and said, “Well, fuck, didn’t this devolve into a group therapy session or some shit?”

Louie laughed. Alina got up and went into her office and came out burning some sage, wafting it around the lot of us. I smiled at that.

“I feel like I need to put out some hematite, or some smoky quartz around my computer before I open it up next time.”

She laughed and said, “I have a big chunk of snowflake obsidian. I’ll go grab it.”

“What the hell does all of that do?” Louie asked.

“They’re stones that banish or absorb and process negative energies,” I explained.

“Oh.” He looked thoughtful. “Well how do you know if it works?”

“Some stones will fracture or break after they’ve given all of what they’ve got, some will lose their color, and others are just tried and true. But I guess what it boils down to the most is faith,” Alina said, coming back from her office and setting chunks of hematite, snowflake obsidian, and smoky quartz on the table, ranged out around my laptop. She set the smudge stick of green sage down in an overturned abalone shell, the smoke still curling and lingering in the air around us. I breathed deep and smiled at the hint of lavender for calm and rosemary for strength in her mix.

“I’m making tea,” she declared. “You boys want some?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Chainsaw said.

“You got that orange spice stuff?” Louie asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” she said with a wink.

“Some white tea with something fruity would be lovely,” I said.

“I have the perfect thing for that,” she said. “You like pear?”

“I love it,” I answered.

“Coming right up.”

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