The Sequal Adriane: Chapter Six, First Challenge

The hierarchy of heaven is a bureaucratic division of labor. When Mickey got sober his case was elevated up a notch and in the hands of another guardian on the upper floor… (Yes, floor, lacking a better word for these purposes). It was as though he was encircled with a shield of protection and nothing in hell could touch him. Once a soul has progressed into the realm of the spirit there are more powerful angels and demons to aid and confront the pilgrim. That is why they say we trudge the road of happy destiny. Of course, Mickey only gets a hint here and there of this promotion but he does see immediately that his sobriety is a daily regimen and if he wants to stay on his pink cloud he has to take certain steps to protect himself and utilize the help his guardians want him to have.

Chapter Six

Sean McKee: Mickey

First Challenge

Since the day I fell to my knees and asked for guidance, I was aware that my life was under new management. Having no idea of what that would entail I began the task of, not only doing the next right thing, but tapping into the intuition of what that might be. I knew, without being told that I would have to make amends to the friends; family and foes I had harmed, short-changed, lied to and otherwise stepped on, throughout those dark days of my drinking and drugging. The first that came to mind was the abandonment and neglect of my daughter and the rest followed. I wanted to do it all right away but I also had the feeling that it would be vanity to start this herculean task without some sort of guarantee that I would not be inclined to repeat the same mistakes.

I went to AA meetings and listened to what others did to resolve these problems. I knew it wouldn’t be enough to just say I’m sorry and I knew that I had to get serious about digging deeply into the causes and the fears that were the sources of  my inclinations. I often dreamed of having someone I could tell my innermost thoughts about these secrets and somehow I knew that I would be able to handle them better if I did. For instance, I was still obsessed with Adriane and couldn’t imagine my life without her. Whenever she called I came running and I was at home on lunch break when she made that last call. When I found out that she was using heroin again I was crushed.

Crushed is the best word for it. My heart could have been vomited out; it stuck so in my throat. This was my first real test of my new-found sobriety. The manner in which she had banned me from her bed and then got tangled up with any low-life she could puzzled me. What was worse was that she kept me around as if I was a eunuch and that drove me nuts. When she called that day and I saw her face bruised I was furious. I wanted to murder whoever did it. Then, when she showed me her abscess, my anger was smashed along with my hopes for her. She nearly died and that was the closest I have ever gone back to drinking.

Sitting on my couch I thought of Willy’s Liquors, only a block away from my house. As I sat I struggled with the whys and the hows and the what-the-fuck’s of it all. What was I supposed to do? Homer jumped up on my lap and calmed me for a few minutes. I thought of a pack of smokes my friend Jim had left on his last visit. I kept the pack in the drawer of the desk for whenever he came back. I had quit smoking before I got sober and was glad I didn’t have to struggle with smoking as well as drinking. However, I sat there and decided to have a smoke and think about it before I went to the liquor store.

I know… you are supposed to call your sponsor or help a newcomer when tempted to drink but I chose to smoke a cigarette. Perhaps it was a way to slap back at GAWD. I’m not so sure of my motives but I prayed, “Please help me,” as I lit one up. I felt better immediately but I knew that now I had awakened the monster of tobacco and that I had merely traded addictions. Still, it was a better option than drinking.

As I smoked the cigarette there was a knock on my door. I had nothing to hide but I felt more than a little bit concerned when I saw a uniformed cop standing on my porch. I answered anyway; “Can I help you?”

“Sean McKee?” he had a note pad out.

“Yes.”

“”You dropped off Adriane Baker at the emergency room today?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Do you mind telling me why you left before the police arrived?” he was surly. His nametag read, Richards. No first name… no rank… just Richards.

“Yes, I had to get back to work. She called while I was on break and I had to get back before…”

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

I had thought that Adriane would tell them what had happened and I would be cleared of suspicion… unless something…, “Is Adriane okay?”