Chapter 13 - Part 2

We were standing in the dark, cobwebby passageways of the haunted house when a new scene appeared around us. We were at the high school, but it didn’t make sense. It was clearly the middle of the morning, yet I was getting in the car with Mom to leave before school was done. Then with a sickening twist in my stomach, I realized this was the day I was caught with alcohol at school. I felt panic rising in me and I took a couple of steps backward. I would have turned and ran except that I suddenly felt my dad’s hand on my shoulder steadying me. “You can do it, Tom. I could and so can you.”

That brought me back somehow. It made me remember that I had learned some new things and I was a new person in a way and I could do it differently. I took a deep breath. This haunted house wasn’t going to frighten me away.

Now I was riding in the car and my mom was asking me what happened.

“Sheesh, Mom! It’s not that big of a deal. It wasn’t even mine. It belonged to Boozer. I was just holding it for him.” I heard myself say.

Mom pressed further. “Have you been drinking, though, Tommy?”

I cringed as I watched myself answer Mom, “Don’t call me Tommy! It’s Tom, okay? And no! I haven’t been drinking.”

I leaned over the car seat and pleaded into my ears, “Tell her the truth! That’s how good relationships are made and kept up! Tell her the truth! Maybe she can help. Tell her the truth! She loves you and she really cares! Tell her the truth!”

“Actually Mom,” my shadow self started to say, the anger seeping out of his voice. “Actually, I have done some drinking. I don’t want to lie to you.”

“Thank you, Tom. I so appreciate your honesty. Can you promise me that you won’t do it again?” my mom in the front seat said.

I watched myself squirm. “Honestly?” my shadow self finally asked.

“Honestly,” my mom replied.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I can promise you that.” My shadow self looked down. I knew how hard it had been for him to say that. It had always been hard for me to let my mother down.

My mom blew air out between her lips in frustration. “Well,” she began again, “can you promise me that you won’t drive after you’ve been drinking or get in the car with someone who’s been drinking? Will you promise to call me if you need a ride?”

That was hard for my mom, I could tell. She didn’t want me drinking at all. It was a compromise. “Yes,” my shadow self finally said. “I can promise you that.”

“Good!” mom said. “And no more alcohol at school!” she said forcefully.

My shadow self grinned. “And no more alcohol at school.”

The scene changed and we were in the front room of our house. A shadow of mom and dad sat on the couch reading. Then the door burst open and a shadow of myself came in completely drunk. I went to stand by myself while mom and dad went to stand by their shadow selves. Brittney shrank into a corner. I was overwhelmed by the scene in front of me. I didn’t know if we could face it again – let alone fix it. Was their even a right way to deal with a situation like this?

I saw my dad jump to his feet, and in spite of myself, I cringed. At least when he’d attacked me the first time, I had been drunk and had experienced it all through a haze. Before he could get to me, though, my dad was behind him pleading with him. I hoped he was saying some of that affirming worth stuff to him like all people, even drunk boys, are of worth or misbehavior is always the symptom of some other problem.

I waited for the outburst that I knew was coming from my father, but it didn’t come. He stood clenching and unclenching his fists. Finally he said, “You better take yourself to the bathroom, son. You look like you’re going to throw up. We’ll talk about this later.”

I stood there still reeling as my shadow self stumbled out of the room. I didn’t have time to recover before the scene changed again and I was in my bedroom nursing a hangover from the night before. I remembered how my mother had come in that day and I had made her a promise that I didn’t keep.

I turned toward the door, waiting for my mother to come in. The door opened and my mother came in, but behind her my father came in as well. I didn’t know whether to feel hope or to feel dread. How my father would deal with this I did not know. I knelt beside the bed where my shadow self lay and reminded him to be honest.

“Tom, we want to talk to you,” my dad said after they had sat by the edge of my bed.

I moaned, but managed to crack my eyes open and turn toward them.

“We hate to see you like this, Tom,” my dad said.

“Why are you drinking, Tom?” my mom asked.

“Honestly?” I asked.

“Honestly,” my mom said encouragingly.

“It just feels good. My friends who drink would stop being my friends if I didn’t drink. But when I do drink, I’ve got all the friends in the world.” I watched as I closed my eyes again and sank back into my pillow, “It’s nice,” I said.

“What about us?” my mom asked, “Can’t we be your circle of friends? Aren’t we a kind of support for you?”

I watched as my self on the bed snorted and then gripped his head in pain. “When was the last time either of you cared what I want? Yea, this is a great support – a place where my dad is always yelling and my mom is always cowering and my sister is always simpering. This is the place I want to get away from! Give me a break! Go away!”

I was definitely being honest now.

My dad cleared his throat, “What do you want from us, Tom?”

My shadow self laughed softly. “What do I want? I want parents who are proud of me. I want a family that makes me feel good about myself. I want a dad who is careful with what he says and what he gets angry about. I want us to be different!”

“I want us to be different, too, Tom, and I’m so sorry that we’ve hurt you,” my mom said.

Tears welled up in my eyes. It was me who had hurt them and not the other way around.

“Tom, I,” my dad started and then shook his head, “I know I get angry too often and that it hurts all of you. It’s wrong and I need help. I’m going to get help for it. But in the mean time, I know that kids and drinking can spiral out of control. I don’t want that for you. Can you work on that, too – while I’m working on my anger control?”

My self on the bed looked at my dad suspiciously. “Are you being honest now?”

“Yes sir, I am,” Dad said.

“Alright,” I heard myself say. “I will see what I can do.” Then I rolled over back toward the wall.

My parents turned to leave, but my dad put his hand on his shadow self’s shoulder and told him something more. Then his shadow self turned and said, “Tom, maybe when you’re feeling better, we could go throw the ball around some? Maybe we could talk about fixing up that old car you’ve been talking about. It might be fun.”

My shadow self turned back toward Dad and contemplated him quietly. I knelt by him and whispered to him about growth and doing things to make your relationship grow. Finally he smiled, “Yeah Dad. That’d be great.”

When the scene dissolved around us this time, I still felt a little shaky. There were no high fives this time. None of us could tell how that whole situation would work out. We knew we had dealt with it better, but there are never any guarantees are there? I didn’t even know now if drinking was something I wanted to give up. Could my family really fill in the empty places that drinking and my friends seemed to fill up? It’d be nice to be comfortable with my family and not have any secrets from them, but I needed friends, too. Maybe I could build some new relationships with kids who had fun doing different things. I was getting awfully good at relationships after this carnival thing anyway.

Brittney came over and hugged me. “You were brave, Tommy,” she said.

I rumpled her hair. “Thanks, kiddo,” I said. I hoped I could be as brave as she thought.