Confession
Count All This — Chapter 19: pick your poison
Just when Jo Kasten’s son encounters schizophrenia, she discovers she has breast cancer. Meanwhile, her marriage faces a test. Count All This is a story about love and loyalty, addiction and madness. This is the nineteenth chapter. Find the first chapter here.
The following day, Larry and I snuck off to breakfast early, and when we got back from Linda’s Sea Breeze Cafe, we found Karen and Eddy sitting in low-slung beach chairs on the driveway. I walked over to join them, but Karen waved me off.
“Ed and I are having kind of a private conversation,” she said a bit sheepishly. “Would you mind giving us just a little more time?”
“Okay. No problem…” I answered with only a twinge of hesitation. If she could find out what was making our difficult son act so crazy, all the better.
I followed Larry into the house and tried to find other occupations, only barely resisting an urge to eavesdrop at the window. Forty-five minutes later, the two of them entered the living room and sat down on separate couches — Karen on the sloping couch beneath the window, and Eddy on the trundle bed next to Larry and me.
“I think Ed has something he wants to tell you,” Karen started.
“Oh, really? What’s that?” I turned to look at Ed.
“Well, wait a minute. I’m not sure I really said that. I don’t think I’m ready to say anything yet.”
“But Ed,” Karen urged. “Didn’t you tell me you’d feel much better after you told your mom and dad?”
“I might have said that,” he laughed. “But I’m not feeling it now. I don’t know if this is a good idea after all. I’m not sure I know what the consequences will be.”
“Do you want me to tell them? Would that make it easier for you?”
Eddy took a deep breath and seemed to gird himself for a confrontation. “Okay. Yes. Go ahead.”
“Eddy isn’t really having mental problems. He’s having drug problems.”
“What?!” Larry and I whipped our heads around to look at each other. This is good news, I thought. This means his behavior is voluntary — fixable. “What kind of drugs?” I asked Ed warily.
“Crystal meth,” he said.
“Oh Jesus, Eddy. That stuff is really, really scary! It makes all your teeth fall out. It’s hardcore stuff. When’s the last time you did it?”
“Today. On the Boardwalk.”
“How long have you been doing it?”
“I don’t know. For awhile.”
I looked at Larry again, then over at Karen, not sure what to say next.
“Were you doing it in April?” Larry asked. “Is this what caused the mental breakdown?” Ed nodded.
“Do you have any more? Maybe you should give it to us,” I pressed.
Eddy started to shake his head.
“Listen Ed…” I began.
“Wait a minute,” Karen interrupted. “If he has a stash and gives it to you now, that’s not really going to mean anything, is it? Since he can always go out and get more. I think the important thing to do now is to accept that he has a drug problem and decide what to do about it.”
“I agree,” Larry said. “I say we take Eddy straight from here right now to that program that Francine went into — what’s it called?”
“Project 60. At least, that’s the one for men. Francine went into the Women’s Recovery program.”
We sat in silence for half a minute.
“What do you say, Eddy?” Larry took the initiative. “Would you be willing to go into a residential treatment program today? Are you ready to get some help?”
“Yeah. I think so,” Ed nodded. “I think I’m ready. I’ll go.” Then he bent his head over his chest and began crying. I moved quickly next to him on the couch, and put my arm around his shoulders. His whole body began to shudder. His crying got louder and deeper. It seemed as if every hurt he had ever suffered — every rejection, every humiliation, every ostracization for being so unlike the other children — was being pulled up through his torso and escaping through his mouth.
I tried to comfort him, but the sobbing didn’t diminish. A long rope of snot was dangling from his nose. The top of his tee shirt was wet with tears. I saw through the corner of my eye that Larry was talking on the telephone, Karen was coming back from the kitchen with a paper towel. She offered it to Eddy, who wiped his nose but kept crying. I imagined it was good for him — getting it all out, releasing his pain. But after almost five minutes, I began to wonder if I should try to stop him. Was he crying too much? Was he able to stop?
“Okay, Eddy,” his father interrupted with a hand on Eddy’s shoulder. “I called the bus station. It’s time to go.” Finally, Ed’s sobs began to diminish.
“How do you want to do this?” I looked up at Larry.
“I think Eddy and I should take our bikes on the train together. That will give us time alone. That will be good for all of us.”
“Yes.”
“After we leave, you can call Project 60 and try to set up his admission. Then you can come home whenever you want to in the car.”
“Okay. I’ll come right away. I’ll come tonight. I’ll just make the phone calls first, and put a few things away — lock up the house.”
A few minutes later, Larry and Eddy were walking their bikes together down the driveway.
“’Bye guys,” I called out the window as they passed.
Was this really going to solve our problems? Was drug use all that was wrong with our son? I wanted to believe that Eddy had escaped the family curse, that my father’s mental illness hadn’t passed through me to him. But would addiction be any better? My uncle had died of alcoholism. My cousin of heroin. Fear flooded my chest as I ran out to the sidewalk to see them receding down the block.
“’Bye!” I called after them.
Larry turned his head slightly and gave a short wave. Eddy walked straight ahead without responding.
That was the nineteenth chapter of my novel, Count All This. To continue, follow the free chapter links below or buy a digital copy of the whole book on Amazon, where leaving a rating or review will help others find my story.
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