|
Sorry I got your mom put away... before/after Nick. Nick K. Nick thought he was addicted to pot. I tried to tell him that no one was addicted to pot. You dont see anyone out there sucking dick on the street for pot, Nick. But he wouldnt listen. "No, really." he said earnest in his un-wisdom"I think I have a problem." Nicks biggest problem, other than trying to grow pot in his bedroom of his parents house, as I saw it, was his mother. Self indulgent housewife. Bored with life. Crazy as hell. Wispy blond hair, beautiful prom queen at one time, now faded and not liking the mirror more each day, clinging to her obsolescent youth with fingernails that drew the blood of her children, making them scream just so she'd know she was still alive. I got home one friday night, after a sixteen hour day ninety hour week, just started smoking my weekend jay, a fine spliff of sensimilla, when the Pager of Doom resounds. I call the number, its my boss, the neurotic low talker, "Yeah, uhhh, Nick's mom called him and told him she's going to kill herself. Call her and talk her down." Fuck. Like this is what I want out of life on a Friday night. I wanted to say "Look, you looney bitch, do it! Just leave your kid out of it!" but that wouldnt look quite so right on the reports. So I called her. And we talked. And we talked. She was drunk, sing-songing in a pathetic voice, making no sense. Eventually she said she wouldnt do it, but had already taken some pills, and was going to go to sleep. I got off the line, after these hours of pointlessly self indulgent conversation with her, called the police. "I'm a social worker, man. Go see if she's all right." They kicked in the door, took her to the hospital, pumped her stomach, then the looney bin for an extended stay. I never really talked about it with nick. What could I say? "Sorry I got your mom put away, Nicky." So I got him set up with custody with his step dad. It was the best thing for him, really.
|
