Purgatory Blues (2013), page 23
He set about chopping the next line when Liz asked, “Is that cocaine?”
“Yeah”, he answered bluntly, “why?”
“Just wondering, I’ve never tried it before”.
“Well, you’re not going to start now”, Andy said sternly.
“You do it”, she said, as though it were tantamount to permission.
“That’s different”.
“Why is it different?”
“Because I said so”, Andy snapped, fully expecting that to be the final word.
Andy had never spoken to her that way before. That being the case, she wasn’t certain she should pursue the issue. She paused for a moment and then tried a different approach. “Okay, why do you do it?”
It was an odd question, one that he couldn’t recall anyone ever having asked him. As far as he was concerned, people who did the amount of cocaine that he did knew why they were doing it. He’d never had to explain it to anyone. He’d never introduced it to anyone and he’d never encouraged anyone to try it. “That’s complicated”, he said, staring down at the powder in front of him. He was feeling self conscious and even a little embarrassed about doing the line in front of her, but he did it all the same. He needed it.
“How do you feel now?” Liz asked after Andy’s loud sniff.
“Clear”, he answered, “nothing matters anymore, there’s no more noise inside”.
“What do you mean, noise?”
He didn’t ponder the question for more than a second before he began his explanation. “You know how most people go through the day? Things have to be done a certain way, we have things that are expected of us, we have morals and values, we have our own emotions and insecurities, we’re afraid, we feel shame, embarrassment, everything we do…we mostly do because of our motivations as social creatures. We have to stay inside the lines with our crayons. Are you following so far?”
“Sort of”, Liz answered, “I mean I can understand that it’s your point of view that things might be that way, but it might not be like that for everyone else”.
“Okay, let’s say that this is how I see things on a normal day”, Andy said as he cut her off. “Everything we do is so that we can belong to society, so that we can fit in, so we can be a part of the world. All of that, for me, is noise. Right now my mind is as sharp and focussed as a scalpel. Everything else is gone. All the bullshit is history. I don’t give a fuck about all that other crap. It’s just me and what I want and how I’m going to get it. That singular sense of purpose is possible because I don’t feel anything. If you feel one way or the other about something, you’re not in control. I use this stuff…” Andy paused and suddenly the wind was taken out of his sails. He’d realized what he was going to say, but he said it anyway…knowing that it was a lie. “I just use this stuff to get by”.
Andy sat there for a moment thinking about those words. He’d been doing drugs for so long that he’d become an entirely different person. If an individual were perceived as the sum of his or her actions, then for all intents and purposes, to anyone who hadn’t met him inside the last year, he would seem to be a complete stranger. He knew that he wasn’t doing it to “get by” anymore. It might have started that way and it was what he said when someone he knew saw him doing it for the first time, but those days were long behind him. The thought dawned on him that if someone were to do anything long enough and with any degree of consistency, it would replace the established pattern to herald a new norm.
Now, he was this guy…and he was forced to accept the truth that he was a person who was so afraid of the world that he spent his life in an alcoholic stupor and used cocaine to keep himself that way. But he didn’t care that he was now Andy Maureau’s contorted and rotting shadow. He believed that he’d done what he’d done to survive. He truly believed that he’d become that person so that he could make it to the next day and the day after that.
“Why wouldn’t you want to feel anything?” Liz asked, disturbing his train of thought. “What’s the point of being alive if you don’t feel?” Her confusion was starkly apparent.
“Physically, sure”, Andy said, “It’s what keeps me going”. He thought about the best way to phrase the next part, but couldn’t come up with anything better than “it’s the other thing that’s not so good for me”.
“You mean you’ve been trying to shut down your emotions?” She asked as though he were a patient on a therapist’s divan.
Andy looked at her uncomfortably for a moment before responding. “Perhaps, in the simplest of terms, yes”, he answered, measuring his words. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about this, can we talk about something else?” he said, appearing somewhat discomposed.
“No, I want to talk about this”, Liz insisted, emboldened by his unease, “I think it’s really interesting. You’re using cocaine to shut down a part of yourself, you don’t want to have feelings, so what are you feeling like when you’re with me?” She asked the question pretending that it was rooted in academic curiosity.
“What are you getting at Liz? Just spit it out”, Andy said in an annoyed tone, having seen through her baited query.
“Nothing”, she breathed in a singsong way as she stood up and walked over to Andy, “I just wanted to know what it makes you feel like, that’s all”. Liz sat down on Andy’s lap and took the blade from him, “here, show me how you do this”.
Having her body against his felt good, Andy reacted on a purely physical level. He took the blade out her hand and placed it back on the table, “let’s leave that alone for now”, he said. He put his hand through the opening of her robe and began fondling her breasts. He could feel her arousal, the involuntary trapping and release of breath…accompanied by quiet moans of pleasure.
“Do you love me?” she whispered.
Andy closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her thighs against him. He hoped that if he said nothing, she’d let the question remain unanswered.
Liz slowly began grinding herself against him, she reached down between his legs before asking once more, “Andy, do you love me?”
Right then he could tell that she wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than a real answer. He stopped what he was doing and pulled her thighs across him, turning her slightly so he could talk to her face to face. Andy looked into her eyes and asked, “you know how much I care about you, don’t you?”
“That’s not what I asked you”, she said, gently caressing the side of his face with her hand. She traced his lips with her thumb and asked again, “do you love me?”
He knew what she wanted to hear, it would be easy enough to just say the words and be done with it, but he didn’t want to. If nothing else, she deserved an honest answer. “It’s not that easy Liz”, Andy whispered back, “I don’t know how I feel”.
Liz kissed him deeply. It was the most passionate kiss he’d ever shared with her…and just when it got to the point where he never wanted it to stop, she ended it by lightly biting on his lower lip. She looked into his eyes…her face inches away from his and asked again, “Andy, do you love me?”
There was no way out, he knew that it had to be a yes or no answer. Andy looked at her, studying every line and every curve of her face, knowing it would be the last time that she’d ever look back at him that way. The silence was thicker than a ton of lead. The hammer that broke it was a definitive “no”.
Andy watched the light go out of her eyes and all of a sudden she felt cold. He saw a tear roll down her cheek as she turned away from him. She placed her hand behind the cocaine that Andy had on the desk and as she stood, she swept it off the table.
“What the fuck Liz?!” Andy shouted as he stood up, anger flowing from him.
“How fucking long are you going to be this way Andy? I’ve been patient, I’ve waited and waited and waited…”
“Hey, I never asked you for anything”, Andy shouted back.
“You didn’t have to ask because I fucking love you!” The last part was intended to be an admonition, but the tears that came with it made it less so.
“Would you have preferred it if I’d lied to you? Is that what you want?”
“How long have you been pumping this shit into your body? Huh?” Liz shouted, pointing to his desk, “she’s gone and she’s not coming back!”
Andy flew in to a rage at the mention of Elsa, he grabbed Liz by the throat and pointed at her face threateningly, “Don’t you fucking talk about her! You don’t know anything about her!”
Liz pushed him away and he stepped back, taking a deep breath, he needed to calm down, but she wouldn’t let him.
“I don’t know anything huh?” Liz said through her tears. “Here’s something that I do know, I know that the way you’re living it’s only going to end up one way, it’s going to end with you in the fucking morgue!” She walked over to him and grabbed him by his arms, “she’s gone but I’m here! Can’t you fucking see that? I’m right here! Just stop and let me help you!”
Andy pushed her away angrily, “don’t you get it? If I stop I might as well just put a bullet in my head. Every day for months I had to come up with a reason to wake up in the morning. Every night I went to sleep wishing that I wouldn’t wake up the next day. I stop and all of that comes back. I stop and I remember how much I don’t want to live anymore. I stop and any chance that this might get better goes away”. Andy turned his back to her and walked a few paces away trying to bleed out the anger. It didn’t work.
“And you know what?” he said, turning back to face her, “I’ve been doing this for so long now, I don’t know any other way to be. I don’t fucking know! I don’t even remember who I used to be. The Andy Maureau that everyone thinks they know died a long time ago”. His voice was heavy with emotion, he realized that he wasn’t just admitting it to her…he was admitting it to himself. “I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck happens next and who I’m supposed to be now. And you know what else? I’m really fucking sorry for wasting your time Liz but whatever it is you’re looking for, it’s not me. It sure as fuck is not me!”
Liz was trembling…her tears were a flood of anguish. She reached out to Andy for some kind of support, she needed to feel his touch, she needed to be comforted, but Andy knew that if he held her, he would have to lie that everything would be okay, but he knew it wouldn’t. He pushed her hand away. “Just don’t”, he said harshly, “there’s nothing for you here, just go”.
She reached out again with a wail of despair.
“GO!” Andy shouted at her violently. In his mind, he felt that he was granting her a mercy, perhaps she would learn to hate him and the hate would galvanize her. He hoped it would make her stronger.
Liz ran to the bedroom while Andy sank into the chair at his desk. He took another long gulp out of the whiskey bottle and waited. After a minute of loud noises and muffled cries, he saw Liz holding several items, looking disheveled and half dressed, attempting to unlock the front door.
Andy walked up to her, “let me get that”, he said as amicably and with as much compassion as he could manage.
“Don’t touch me!” She shrieked and swatted at him.
Andy backed away, allowing her to fumble her way through opening the door and letting herself out. She slammed the door behind her hard enough to produce a sound of earth shattering thunder, cracking the glass panels in the door. The finality of it echoed through every molecule in the building,
Andy walked back in to the living room utterly defeated. Now, he was truly alone, his last crutch was gone and there was no going back. He stood there…bereft, helpless and angry. He hated feeling out of control. He despised it. Suddenly the rage he’d been trying to suppress boiled out him, he roared a primal scream from the bowels of his soul as he ripped the television off its bracket on the wall. Sparks flew as he hoisted it above his head before he drove it into the floor with all his might. The power in his apartment went out as the screen buckled and shattered beneath him.
He stood there in the dark breathing heavily, feeling his anger dissipate. Suddenly he noticed that his right hand felt wet, he walked over to the window, using the light from the street lamps outside to reveal a large cut across his palm. The television hadn’t gone without gaining some measure of revenge. “Fan-fucking-tastic’, he said to himself.
Andy found his lighter on the coffee table and used it to guide himself to some scented candles that Elsa had bought a long time ago. After he’d lit as many as he could find and placed them around the apartment, he rummaged through the kitchen cupboard and found some superglue, using it to seal his cut.
At that point he decided that he’d had all the fun he was going to for the night. He made his way to the balcony, taking the whiskey and the blanket with him. Outside, he listened to the sounds of the night and watched the pulse of the city readying itself for dawn. He drank till he could no longer keep his eyes open…till sleep finally came.
Chapter 13
When Andy woke the sun had already come and gone. It was Wednesday night and seven hours past midday. He looked around trying to recall the previous night. Slowly it came back to him and he cursed himself at every step of the way.
There was a third of whiskey left, he reached for it and took a gulp, using it to gargle with before swallowing. He lit up a cigarette and stood, feeling the aches and pains that came from passing out on a cold floor. With that first big drag of the cigarette he began to cough, but this was a new kind of morning cough, his lungs felt like they were on fire. He couldn’t catch his breath and almost passed out just before he finally gained control of himself.
He looked at his hand and saw blood. The three packs a day, alcohol and drugs had finally begun to show themselves for what they were. “Seems about right”, he thought to himself before he wiped away the blood on his shirt. As memories of last night resurfaced he shook his head attempting to dispel the visions. His tick kicked in, “fuck off” he said to no one. No matter how much he drank, no matter how much cocaine he took, he could never completely erase the things he’d done from his mind. They would always be there to haunt him.
He smoked and allowed the tobacco to corrupt his body. When he walked back inside he found that the electricity was still out, he’d have to call the superintendent and have him turn it back on. It seemed like too much of an effort so he decided that he’d just get dressed and leave. He grabbed his usual items as he left but first put three grams from the package in his desk into a little piece of paper, folded it and hid it in his inside jacket pocket.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs he looked over at the garage and then at the pedestrian entrance. He had nowhere to go. No one wanted him. Rather than stand around and debate in his head for the next five minutes, he chose the door and walked out in to the street. “Any action is better than inaction”, he thought.
Outlaws wasn’t too far away and it was all downhill, it seemed like a reasonable destination. He began a slow walk and lit up another cigarette for company. When he was almost halfway there his phone rang, it was an unknown number.
“Maureau”, Andy answered.
“Andy, it’s Allen, where are you?” Allen asked politely.
Andy couldn’t for the life of him imagine why Allen was calling but he knew that he didn’t want to have anything to do with him. “I’m at a little place called go fuck yourself Allen”, he said and ended the call.
When the call screen vanished he noticed that he had several messages and calls from his father, Dennis and Eddie. He sent everyone back the same message, “busy, talk later”. At that point he didn’t have to walk too much farther to reach Outlaws. He was, however, just a tad out of breath when he’d reached his destination, he hadn’t exercised in months. He pushed open the door and found a sparse gathering with Chelsea behind the bar counter.
Chelsea was a young girl who’d begun working at Outlaws only a few months ago. She was thin, tall and covered from head to toe in tattoos. “Hey Andy”, she called as he neared the bar counter.
“Hey Chels”, Andy called back.
She placed a beer and a shot on the table before Andy had sat down. He downed the beer and she brought him another immediately.
“Tough day?” She asked.
“Tough life”, Andy replied.
“When’s the last time you ate something?” She asked. “It’s starting to show on your face”.
Andy tried to remember but nothing came to him, “tell you the truth, I’m not really sure, how bad does it look?”
“Well, not anorexic, but you can tell”, she said, “here, have some of my fries, I just ordered take out”. She placed a little take-out box on the counter.
Andy thanked her and grabbed a handful.
“You know if we served food here I’d be able to force some in to you. Why don’t you go to the restaurant downstairs and have a good meal. There’s beer down there too”, she suggested with a little wink.
“I like it here”, Andy said and downed his shot, “plus I have you to talk to”, he added with a smile.
“Awww, that’s so sweet, here”, she said, filling his shot glass up, “this one’s on the house”.
“See why I like it here?” Andy said as he raised his glass to her before downing the shot.
“What’s on the house?” Mason shouted, emerging from the manager’s office.
Andy showed him the shot glass and Mason’s facial features relaxed from their previously tensed appearance. “Oh it’s you”, he said with relief. “I thought this one was giving free things to random customers again”, Mason slapped Chelsea’s butt hard as she walked by.
“How you doing buddy?” Mason asked, offering his hand to Andy.
“Good enough”, Andy said to Mason, shaking his hand, “what about you?”
