IndieSouth

“I can’t tell you anything right now, sir, just have a seat,” she said, not even looking up.

David walked over to an empty chair and sat down. He took a few breaths, and he noticed his hand had started twitching. He immediately began to sweat. How had this happened, he thought. What was he going to do?

He stood up and walked back outside, into the sunlight. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called his mother.

It rang, slowly, three times. He was about to hang up when his mother answered the phone.

“Ma,” he said softly, and began to weep.

“David,” she said, “Are you okay?”

“No ma. I’m not sober, anymore. Can you help me?

“I’m coming, where are you?”

“Portland General.”

“Stay there, son. I’m coming.”

David cried harder, and his mother just sat there listening to him. He thought she was crying too.

“I’m coming right now, David, just stay there. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in two hours.” She was driving down from Bangor.

“Okay, thank you, “ he sobbed. “And ma, please don’t bring Daniel. I don’t want to see him like this.”

“Don’t worry son. I’m coming.”

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This entry was posted on Friday, February 1st, 2008 at 2:11 pm and is filed under Writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.