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The Journey and the Terminus
A Short Story in Two Acts:
by
Peter Mackeonis
The Journey
Cassie's insurance company only sanctioned online addiction group sessions not one-on-one meetings that might have been of some use and to tolerate them she'd have a couple of shots of vodka and a line of coke which was ironically chopped with her insurance card on the black cover of a self help addiction book.
Mark had thought that Annie and he were no strangers to this world after all they'd seen it in the movies but that was nothing like the cursing drunk swaying wildly gesticulating fingers clicking White Claw in hand daughter who, in pleading for the tiny almost empty ziploc bag had, not only defeated their very different approaches to the problem but their differences had become as corrosive as the addiction itself.
Sure Annie and Mark had read up on the wisdom of Cassie best left to her own destiny and even her sister who'd cut her loose believed in that cure even if that meant homelessness and prostitution but Annie knew better so against Mark's wishes she kept paying Cassie's rent, car insurance, phone and even streaming channels because it would would sooner or later help her rebalance.
Annie's error was based on the mistaken belief that her daughter's strength of character combined with her breeding would rescue this beautiful powerhouse of energy intelligent art student turned nurse that had fallen into the pit of lying and stealing to buy cocaine to feel normal and cheap alcohol to take the edge off of normality.
The bitter reality was Cassie's desperate late night phone calls for help because she was out of control out of drugs or some man was trying to break into her apartment kept coming and that these calls over the days weeks and months with Mark guessing in what state they would find Cassie had simply taken its toll on hteir marriage and trying to talk Cassie down while they were showered with abuse and the silences as they drove home always made matters worse.
Eventually when Cassie lost her job they'd both agreed to bring Cassie home that also failed as her habits came too and that included everything from friends dropping off product to her falling in the the street on her way back from the liquor store and hiding bottles and grams around her childhood bedroom.
The evening they tightened the reign and made the 'no' rules Cassie drove away at 2am and Annie hadn't reckoned on the door being her husband's only response to this complete failure: Shame on you he was told, call yourself a parent, was spat at him as he walked through the door that last time.
Annie hadn't understood the either the depth of Mark's commitment to Cassie needing to help herself nor his dislike of seeing his wife act as maid and housekeeper for their daughter's apartment. Ironically, as Cassie's dependence on the drug had grown so had Annie's cleaning and other housekeeping functions as had Mark's opinion on how to deal with the situation and he'd once they'd joked who Annie would push off a cliff to save the other; him or Cassie. She'd laughed at the time as it'd never crossed her mind that one day the choice might not be hers.
Mark had jumped.
In his own defense not that he needed to explain Mark told their friends it hadn't been an overnight decision and for the first year and a half he'd kept notes thinking that if he'd showed them to Cassie it might sober her up but when sober she didn't want to talk and out of it she couldn't talk.
When Mark first moved to his apartment he'd fooled himself that he'd write the self help book for other parents but as he sat in front of his laptop he realized that until it had been too late the signs has been too subtle so although so many events were fixed in his memory committing them to the page would be pretty useless.
Tuesday 12th: Cassie called at 11pm crying. It's midnight when we get there and she's siting in her car and out of control on alcohol and cocaine outside her apartment and we arrived just in time to stop the neighbors from calling the police. She wants to go for a drive. Took away her car keys and carried her indoors.
Cassie met Martin 2 years ago. She dated him for six months. He was successful with a 300k high tech job, they drank champagne in the back of a black Uber going up to the city, he owned two French Bulldogs and he was a violent alcoholic that needed a TSO and a month in jail to stop him from beating her up. He left her with a need for alcohol.
January: Sitting in the back of a black uber Matin had been drinking before the black Uber picked them up and his 2nd bottle of champagne is empty as they reach the city. He's now incapable of speech let alone having an evening of fun so the Uber just drives them home.
Danny made a living out of cocaine. He stayed in Cassie's apartment for a few weeks until the neighbors told her about the people coming and going all day and she kicked him out after she found half a kilo of cocaine among his things. A few nights later and not for the first time he trashed her apartment and beat her up finding the deadlock on climbed in through the bathroom window at 3am and was taken away by the police. He left her with a gram a day habit and when the restraining order didn't work friends hired someone to give him the message by breaking both his legs.
Mark, Brian and Donnie, a painter, an unemployed and the son of a successful doctor who'd been doing drugs sine he was in high school. He was violent and suffered hallucinations, Jose was just a violent drunk and Nero took her car without permission for two weeks
As Mark had let Cassie's night call go to voice mail he felt guilty and when she called again he picked up. She was phoning from somewhere on Main Street and she must have driven there completely out of her mind.
Mark shouldn't have gone but he did but he did.
The Terminus
Mark was seated opposite two plain clothes officers at a metal desk that was bolted to the floor. The brightly lit room had one wall mirrored and he was completely relaxed as he declined his option to call a solicitor until the questions started.
"Look Mark you've just killed someone and there's a big difference between murder and manslaughter so why don't you tell us in your own words what happened.
"It was just necessary," Mark responded plainly but now with some agitation in his voice.
“Are you admitting you had the gun with you because you intended to use it?" Asked the second officer.
Mark thought for a moment but there was no obvious place to start so his subconscious took over, "Every man she's known has been either an addict an sadistic alcoholic or a violent drug dealer and because you'd rather be passing out speeding tickets it's as common to see a line of coke on a bar top as it is to see a beer with the dealers selling on the street under your noses. My daughter has relied on alcohol and cocaine for over two years and hasn't worked more than three months. She can't get unemployment because she was tricked into resigning her last hospital job to stop her union getting involved. My wife and I have supported her apartment, car payment, insurances,and her food and we were happy to help because we stupidly believed that she'd get better. Once a week my wife went over to do her laundry, vacuum, dishes and anything else that needs doing. I'd take a black sharpie and try to cover up any new scratches on her beautiful car and remove the beer cans or wine bottles and vacuum up tiny specs drops of white powder because I didn't want her to get a DUI. It feels ridiculous as I'm telling you but it didn't at the time. It becomes an acceptable madness like being in a movie because somehow we really thought appearances mattered and how stupid was that? And...”
Mark was interrupted by the second officer in the room, "Listen Mark we understand you're stressed and this sounds really sad but we're really just interested in this afternoon.”
"Can't you just listen I'm getting to that. When she did cocaine she drank White Claw or some other cheap malt crap she have psychotic episodes and she'd phone saying that she'd won the lottery or been left a fortune by an old boyfriend or she'd throw her clothes out or drive and scrape the side of her car as she parked so a couple of weeks ago when I found a half full can of beer in the drink holder I took her car away but not before hiding a GPS tracker under the spare. Today when she called me I tracked it to a down town parking lot and Cassie was in the driver's seat waiting for this guy to come out of the store. She's confused nervous and surprised to see me even though she had asked me to come. So her new guy strolls over and asks if there's a problem and I explain who I am and he laughs as if to say so what? I tell him that I'm taking Cassie home and he has to get a ride from someone and seeing the key in his hand and the to hell with you expression in his eyes I just snatched the key. I pop the trunk to see if there's anything he should take with him and see a scruffy backpack and a large white bin liner with five large ziploc bags of marijuana buds. I tell him that I'm going to call the police and again he laughs and tells me that it's all legal as he's delivering the stuff to a friend's pot shop and that's when he made the mistake of telling me that Cassie wanted to stay with him and she'd told him all about her really crazy father.
“And you thought that your gun was the only solution Mark?" the sergeant said
“I just knew we'd all suffered enough Here I was in the middle of a downtown parking lot negotiating with a drug dealer for the life of my wild eyed drugged-out daughter whose life had become a succession of apartment trashing and beatings. She'd broken up our family and bankrupted my wife and there she sat looking like she didn't have a care in the world. I knew if I got rid of this guy he'd just be replaced by another and you guys never turn up in time to enforce any of the restraining orders so I did what was necessary - and now no one can hurt her.”
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