The Lesser Of Two Evils

Salem, Indiana.

2016.

The aluminum bat rings when it cracks my skull.

It thuds when the second blow hits my arm.

And the third blow, yeah that’s right, the third one, again cracks my skull.

Tap-tap-tap.

This slugger means business.

And as I fall to my knees, I don’t know if the ringing is the bat or if it’s in my ears.

But as I drift into unconsciousness, something sure is ringing real loud.

*****

Straight out of school I work a machine shop for six years.

I quit just two weeks after I get married.

Seems like the smart thing to do at the time.

Start installing kitchen cabinets with a friend of mine, Steve.

Steve pays good.

Cash, too.

Maybe six months in, me and my wife Joanie, and Steve and his wife Bella are at a trade show.

All through dinner the live music’s so loud my ears are ringing, and while we’re waiting for dessert, Steve gets up.

“Gonna powder my nose, anybody wants to go,” he says with a wink.

The girls shake their heads no.

And I’ve no idea what he means, so I stay put too.

But two, three restroom trips later, Steve tap-tap-taps me on the back of the head.

“Got a surprise for ya Matt, come on.”

Curious now, I follow and he drags me into a cubicle.

“Man, what the hell?” I say, as Steve lays out his baggie and straw on the toilet tank lid.

It finally clicks what he’s been up to.

And you know what?

Above all else, I’m disappointed.

“Man you’re stupid. You got a family, a business, why you doing this?” I say.

“Bit of blow, Matt, I can handle it. Stop being such a pussy,” he replies.

I shake my head, slam the cubicle door, and return to the table.

I glare at Steve when he returns all grinning and blazing pupils, and though he plays up his good cheer to our wives, his guilt won’t let his eyes meet mine.

But as anyone who’s taken more than a few hits of coke knows…

Your friend and employee scolding you isn’t gonna get in the way of your buzz.

Now I’m a guy’s already fond of his beer and his chasers, so I know me being around this situation isn’t healthy.

Me and Joanie are about to start a family, buy a house, all that good stuff, and I don’t wanna blow it, excuse the pun.

I think hard about quitting my job.

But Steve’s a friend and like I say, he pays good.

So I shut up and put up.

But though I’m a plenty big guy, and strong from hard labor, there’s a limit to the willpower inside these buzz-hungry bones.

Couple of months more of him bugging me, I give in, and blow out.

And I like it, kinda.

But man I feel real guilty.

Scared too, lest Joanie finds out.

But wouldn’t you know…

Come to find out Joanie’s been snorting with Bella behind my back the whole time!

So now me and Joanie start snorting together.

Which in our heads makes it okay…

You know, we're not hiding it, so we’re not lying to each other…

But lady coke is one high-maintenance mistress, and a year or so down the line Steve loses the business.

Lucky for me my nose isn’t buried too deep in the blow just yet, and I’m glad to take over Steve’s accounts.

Soon the money’s rolling in, so Joanie and I decide to invest in our family’s future.

So we buy a bar.

No time, man?

We make a killing.

But guess what?

Joanie and I now have access to every sin the devil can dream up.

And we both dive headfirst into the fire.

I mean, sure we’re out of our minds and shacking up with different folks most every night, but at least we’re not lying to each other about it, right?

And it all works in its own messed up way until my bouncer gets busted for selling pot, and I lose the bar.

That slaps me out of it, some.

I try to get sober.

But when the devil invites you to his party, he doesn’t look too kindly on a guest who wants to go home early.

Oh you put up a good enough fight, he’ll let you go.

But he’ll be sure to stuff your pockets with the party favors from hell.

*****

Texas.

Surely that’s a far away and big enough place where a man can be free of all this.

Free of the divorce, the meth, the numbness, the overdoses, the foreclosure, the bankruptcy, the pills.

Somehow through all that I manage to keep custody of my two girls.

As Joanie had slid into shooting up heroin, the judge thought me the lesser of two evils.

A man could laugh about it, if he had more than a few wheezy breaths left in his hollowed-out bag of bones.

But I tell you, I did learn this about myself…

I may be down and dirty, broke, and in a mighty hole with an even bigger shovel, but I still got some fight in me.

Those two precious girls of mine ain’t gonna see their daddy give up without one helluva fight.

So I get myself a job down there, a thousand miles from the trouble I been causing up here in Indiana.

Yeah okay, that’s some big-ass talk for a down-and-out meth head.

Guess Texas is rubbing off on me already.

Pity I don’t even have the gas money to get my big ass down there.

So I turn to doing what I’ve come to know best.

You ever see in the movies the guy who comes out of retirement for one last job?

Does he ever get away with it?

*****

Truck pulls up to the end of my long driveway.

Guy gets out, bigger guy, six-three, six-four, cut-off shirt, farmboy overweight.

“Who are you?” he grunts.

“Well who the hell are you?” I spit back. “You're on my property.”

“Good,” he grins. “Then you're the one I'm looking for.”

He reaches into his truck and pulls out a gleaming aluminum baseball bat.

Before I can run, guy swings for the fences and damn near lifts my head clean off my shoulders.

I drop to my knees.

He swings again.

Instead of playing in the Majors, this slugger’s trying to knock a junkie’s head off for two hundred bucks.

*****

When I wake up, he’s gone.

I'm 100% certain the only reason he left is he thought he killed me.

The blood pouring from my head told him he probably had.

But the devil wasn’t done with me yet.

As I stagger back to my house, my youngest daughter video calls me.

And here I am covered in blood, embarrassed, ashamed, and deathly miserable with who I am.

And the first time ever in my life, I decline my daughter’s call.

She could be stuck in an elevator.

Or in trouble at school.

Or God forbid hurt in a fiery car wreck.

And I reject her call.

Yeah.

This is what I’ve become.

Well, the real self-loathing will have to wait, because the blood’s still gushing from my head.

I call some friends to stitch me up because I sure don’t need any questions at the ER.

And I don’t need to spread the shame any wider than I already have.

So I Ieave both my daughters with Joanie, and two days later, I set off for Texas.

*****

As my old truck rolls south down old 69, my head sure is pounding now.

Not only from the beating I took, but from the well of anger and regret about ready to burst out the back of my poorly stitched-up head.

It’s scary, setting out into a new world like that.

Up till that point, Salem’s the only home I ever knew.

I grew up in that town.

Went to school in that town.

All my friends busy around that town.

But as the miles roll under my balding tires, and I’ve yelled all I can yell and cried all I can cry, I feel the first shoots of hope trying to push their way through the shitty dirt I planted them in.

And the tiny voice inside me whispers something I’m glad to hear, but don’t fully believe…

“It’s gonna be okay. This too shall pass.”

And I figure, up till now I’ve always been around the same people, and I've heard it said that if you sit at a barber shop every day of the week you're eventually going to get your hair cut.

Out there in Texas, I won't know anybody.

I’m sure it will be much easier to change my ways.

Move fast in the daylight so the devil won’t even know I’m gone.

By the time he notices, he’ll have forgotten all about me ducking out of his party early, and he’ll leave me be.

That’s how the devil works, right?

I settle into the drive, but just as some peace settles over me, there it is again…

That ringing in my ears...

And that tap-tap-tap on the back of my head.