| |
NICHOLAS IS HAVING a... a... let's just call it, a really bad night. It gets like this sometimes, but not often. It starts with three shots of vodka, and three shots turns into a half-bottle, and if it's a night like tonight, a half-bottle turns into a whole bottle. It's a smaller bottle, not a “handle,” but still... he's had a lot, and when he has this much, he loses himself. He transforms. He screams, “Ungrateful girl!” and hurls his empty bottle at the wall. Fortunately, it isn't made of glass, so it bounces off and flies across the room. “You don't think I was a good dad? I was a damn good dad to you! I worked all my life... all my life... to put a roof over your head, and your mama's head. You haven't earned the right to turn your back on me!”
I cringe when I hear his speech, but it's not surprising. He's talking about Hannah, of course. When he's had too much to drink, his depression turns into rage, and this is the result. He starts to hate and resent his daughter instead of regretting her absence.
Nicholas reaches for an unopened bottle of vodka, tears off the cap, and tosses it aside. Before he raises it to his lips, I sit next to him and plead, “Nicholas... no. No more, okay? Please, you've had enough!”
Now that he's moved on to this second bottle, he's given up on using a shot glass. He throws back his head and gulps directly from the bottle.
“Nicholas, please don't have any more!” I beg. “It's so bad for you, in so many ways. I-I understand why you might want to have a couple of drinks every now and then, but this much... every day? It's not good for your health, your psyche, your—”
“Damn woman!” Nicholas shouts, cutting off my unheard pleas. “She's just like her mother... she never appreciated me. Never.”
In my time as a spirit guide, I've noticed a few things. First of all, a lot of people feel undervalued and under-appreciated, and most of the time, a sense of self worth can't come from nowhere. I think Nicholas is a good person, and I can tell him that all day, and he might be able to hear me on some unconscious level, but my bolstering words aren't enough. Secondly, when you've only known hate, it's hard to remember love. Nicholas has been neglected and aggrieved for too many years, and there's only so much negativity a man can take. He wants to feel nothing, so he drinks alcohol to dull the pain. I think I understand him, but I want something better for him. I watch him take another swig with worry on my face.
“Girl's just like her mama!” Nicholas screams at the walls. As far as he knows, there's no one around to hear him. He doesn't realize I'm sitting right beside him, wishing he would stop. “I swear I ain't... hic... nobody's gonna...”
He's starting to mumble and make no sense, which isn't a bad thing. He's getting tired. If he can sleep this off, he'll wake up with more clarity—and a hangover, probably.
“Nicholas, I want you to listen to me,” I tell him. “You're a good man who does good things. You cut your neighbor's grass. You're always there for people when they need you... but you can't keep doing this. We can get you back in Hannah's good graces, but as long as you have this alcohol in your life, you won't—”
A knock on the door cuts me off. Nicholas doesn't hear it, so I assume it's a knock for me. I raise a pale eyebrow and head to the door.
Spirits can pass through doors, so I walk through and find my visitor on the porch. It's Johnny Wong. No way. After three days, I assumed he had forgotten about me.
“Hey there, lovely,” Johnny greets me. “How's tricks?”
I haven't heard anyone ask how's tricks in a really long time. Once again, I'm pretty sure Johnny is an old spirit, probably from the same era as me. He looks as handsome as ever, in an unzipped black jacket, jeans, and a simple white t-shirt. His brown hair is a borderline pompadour, but it suits him.
“Um... w-well, to be honest, things aren't going so well at the moment,” I admit.
“Why not?”
I don't feel like discussing my charge's inebriation right away, so I change the subject. “I'm surprised you actually knocked and you didn't just... walk in.”
“I thought that would be rude. This is... well, it's kind of like your house, right?” Johnny asks. “This is the address you gave me.”
“Well, I'm definitely here most often,” I tell him. “Uh... you can come inside, if you want, but I should probably warn you... my charge, Nicholas, is in a bad state.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
Johnny gives me no time to answer. He sidesteps me and swaggers through the door. Wincing, he says, “Damn, it smells like a distillery in here!”
“That's what I was trying to warn you about,” I reply as I follow him inside. “He's, uh... he's had a lot to drink.”
Nicholas is still sipping from his bottle, while mumbling words like “damn woman” and “I'll show them.” I've been his spirit guide for a long time, but even I don't know who “they” are and what he intends to “show” them.
“So... this sloppy drunk is your charge, huh?” Johnny observes.
“It's not usually as bad as this.”
“Is that so?” Johnny crosses his arms and prances around the room, pausing to look at a collection of liquor bottles on a nearby table. “Are you sure about that? This looks like a lot of booze.”
I stammer my reply. “I-I-I mean... he drinks daily, but usually not as much as this.”
“Hmm.” Johnny crosses the room and crashes on the couch, right next to Nicholas, whose eyes are half-shut. “I know it's not my place to offer unsolicited advice, but... do you ever think about trying to get him off the vodka?”
With a roll of my eyes, I exasperatedly reply, “Do you really think I haven't tried that?”
“I'm just sayin'... when I was a spirit guide, I worked with quite a few drunks, and the alcohol was the source of about ninety-nine percent of their problems,” Johnny claims. “Hey, don't you think it's ironic that spirits are called spirits? I have a wild theory that consuming too much spirits will actually let you see spirits. I swear, some of my drunkest charges used to be able to see me.”
“I think that's probably your imagination,” I politely protest.
“No, I'm serious!” Johnny exclaims. “I'm talking about people who drink way too much... so much, they're probably on death's door themselves. I think being on death's door gives you a glimpse into the spirit world. That's my theory, and I'm sticking to it!”
I don't want to debate with Johnny. He can believe what he wants. Personally, I believe there's no benefit to drinking vodka, and I really wish Nicholas would limit his consumption—or stop altogether.
“You know, you came over on a really bad day!” I tell him. “And why did it take you so long to visit? I kept wondering when you'd come, but... it took you a long time.”
“I wanted to keep you waiting,” Johnny answers with a wink. “I wanted to make you miss me first. I mean, you did miss me, right?”
There's no way I'm going to confirm that, even if it's true. I enjoy his attention and his compliments, but I don't know if I particularly like him, if that makes sense. I've been lonely for a long time, and when you've been as lonely as I am, any attention feels as good as sunshine on your face. It warms and brightens you.
“So, what's your mission?” Johnny suddenly asks.
To which I answer, “Huh?”
“You're a spirit guide, and every spirit guide is on a mission,” Johnny explains. “I'm just wondering what yours is. What's Nicholas' goal?”
“He wants to get back in contact with his daughter,” I explain. “She used to live with him, before I was his spirit guide. He was an alcoholic back then too, and he said some things... cruel things... that put her off. She cut him out of her life.”
“That's harsh,” Johnny says. “Your boy must have been a real asshole.”
“I don't even know all the details myself,” I explain. “I confirmed a few things with Nicholas' previous spirit guide. He never physically hurt her... it was important for me to know that. Sometimes he'd get really drunk and raise his fist like he was going to hit her, but he did never. He made hurtful comments about her weight, and he disapproved of her boyfriend at the time. They got into screaming matches over it.”
“What was wrong with her boyfriend?” asks our curious visitor—and I was afraid he was going to ask this. I never like to make my charge sound like a bad man, but there's no way around this. It's going to make him sound bad.
“Hannah's boyfriend was... black.” I confess the truth with a grimace. “He used some... w-words... that Hannah didn't approve of.”
“Well, I can't pretend I don't understand what racism is like,” says Johnny. “Hearing chink was pretty common back in the day.”
“I'm so sorry!” I exclaim. “People are people, no matter what. That's what I think. There are good people and bad people, and that's it. I'll never understand why someone would hate for no reason.”
“There are a lot more bad people than good people. That's what I've observed,” Johnny says. “That's why I couldn't be a spirit guide anymore. That's why I—”
When Nicholas picks up his phone and taps his daughter's name on his list of contacts, my eyes bulge, and I scream, “Oh my god, don't!” I didn't mean to interrupt Johnny, but this is important. Nicholas can't call his daughter while he's drunk. Nothing good would come of that!
I try to knock the phone from his hand, but my hand passes through it. Johnny copies me, and the phone flies from Nicholas' hand and hits the floor.
“Wow!” I exclaim. “How'd you do that?”
“I already told you... I'm an angel. Did you forget?” Johnny chuckles at his answer. “I know I don't look much like an angel, but I am.”
“A fallen angel,” I remind him.
“Yeah, but still an angel, and a lot of angels can interact with the physical world much easier than normal spirits can,” says Johnny. “Also, I'm really starting to feel like I want to help you. Would you accept my help?”
I don't know what kind of “help” Johnny could provide, and I don't know if I feel comfortable accepting “help” from a fallen angel, but... I'm tempted. He did knock the phone from Nicholas' hand, preventing him from making a huge mistake. After he dropped the phone, Nicholas didn't bother to retrieve it. He simply went back to drinking his booze.
“I guess... you can help,” I tell him. “There aren't any rules against this, are there? I won't get in trouble for accepting help from an angel who's turned his back on the spirit world, will I?”
“You might.” Johnny smiles and winks at me. “I promise you, though... I'm usually worth the trouble.”