Page 9 of The Grizzly Situation
Well,that was the fastest I’d ever lost a job. Not even my first day, and already I was out on my ass. It was probably for the best, though. I mean, I’m a fuckup, and it was only a matter of time before they figured it out.
As I walked through the door of my shitty apartment in my crappy neighborhood, I had the strangest sense that this was where I belonged. Couldn’t disappoint anyone if I never left the place. Unfortunately, it meant that I wasn’t earning a steady paycheck, and jobs that were work from home required you to have internet and a computer, which I didn’t.
The day had been a shitshow, and I was rung out. I went to the kitchen and put on a pot of water. Once it was boiling, I added in some pasta, stood there and watched it bubble for seven minutes, then drained it and emptied a pouch of cheese sauce onto it. Then I sprinkled it with some crushed BBQ potato chips, mixed it up, and sat on my gross stained couch to eat it.
I missed my mom’s cooking. When I was younger, especially on days like this, she’d make me a grilled cheese with baconand some homemade tomato soup that I would inevitably spill. Then she’d sit down with me, and we’d talk about whatever was bothering me. The only problem with that, was that she’d insist that being a ‘little clumsy’ was nothing to be ashamed of.
It was amazing how she ignored all the times I’d dropped something of hers, shattering it beyond repair. How she’d remind me it was an accident, and they happened to everyone. I loved the fact she didn’t harp on it, but needed her to remember that the day before I’d probably broken something else first. More than likely, several things.
Still, she’d hug me, remind me I was loved, and then give me a piece of cake with ice cream. Was it any wonder I ballooned up to over two hundred pounds? Of course, that didn’t help my coordination at all. Finally I told her no more. Still miss those times, though.
I took my ancient phone from my pocket, and called Jamie. I don’t really know why. Maybe I just needed to hear a familiar voice. When he answered, my sister in law’s high notes rose in the background as she sang to Taylor Swift. Deb was an incredible singer, but she normally had pretty awful taste in music. Not that Taylor wasn’t great, of course. More like Deb had this thing for songs from bands you’d never heard of. Yet, if those groups had done the songs half as well as Deb, they’d have been smash hits.
“What’d you break this time?”
He was trying to be funny, and I knew it, but the words hurt, and I wasn’t in the mood. I was about to say something, when he continued.
“Uly? You okay?”
Not really, no. “Yeah, ‘m fine.”
He sighed. “Bro, I’ve known you for twenty-five years. On those days I didn’t want to drown you in the toilet, I paidattention. Your ups and downs are pretty easy to read, and the tremor in your voice tells me you are so not fine. Talk to me.”
Everyone wanted me to tell them what was going on in my head, but what if I wasn’t sure? “Dunno,” I offered.
“Okay, I’ll be right over.”
Before I could say anything, he disconnected. I tried to call back, but it went to voicemail. About thirty minutes later, the door opened and there stood Jamie and Deb, who had a box in her hands.
“We brought cake,” Jamie announced. “I’d just finished icing it when you called.”
“Chocolate,” Deb added. “Your favorite.”
They were being nice, and I knew it. This wasn’t something sweets would fix. When she took the lid off, and the rich scent of chocolate wafted in the air, I realized though it couldn’t make it better, the cake might put a bit of spackle on it.
“Thanks. Let me get some?—”
“I’ll get them,” Jamie assured me. “Sit.”
There was no strength in me to argue. My mind was going a mile a minute, and it was veering all over the damned road. If I wasn’t careful, I’d crash through the guardrail and go over the edge, where I’d plummet to the rocky shore below, and burst into a cataclysmic flaming ball of doom.
As soon as I took a seat on what passed as a couch, Deb was beside me, taking my hand. I loved her so much. She was kind and considerate, and often tempered Jamie’s more impulsive behaviors.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
I shrugged. Tears burned my eyes, but fortunately they didn’t fall. At least until Deb hugged me. Then all bets were off.
“Hey, Uly, no,” Jamie said, his voice strained. He was there a moment later, kneeling in front of me, clutching me to his chest. “Kid, tell us what’s going on. You know we love you.”
“Why am I such a fuck up?” I wailed. “Uncle Dom fired me, and I can’t blame him. If you knew how many things I broke while I was there.”
Deb ran a hand over my back. “So that’s not the job for you. Don’t sweat it. If you need money, we?—”
“I don’t need money!” I barked. “I need to stop fucking up. I need to not be such a goddamn loser, and?—”
“That’s enough!” Jamie snapped, squeezing my shoulders. “You arenota fuck up or a loser. What you are is someone whose brain runs faster than his body can keep up with. It’s not uncommon, and maybe there are medications that would help.”
I gave a rueful laugh. “Great, now I’m gonna be a junkie.”
