He looked up, sniffled, and wiped his eyes.
I motioned him to come back to the counseling room, and he sniffled his way back. I didn't acknowledge his tears or ignore them. Spark was the kind of guy you just didn't do that to.
'She won't even return my calls,' Sparky, looking at the wall. 'And you know legally she doesn't have to.'
'Uh…'
'Meanwhile, my daughter grows up day by day without knowing who I am.'
'Don't let it make you drink.' I had to say something. Sparky nodded and was polite about my ineffectiveness to give him anything inspirational or helpful. We moved on and filled up the rest of the hour with stuff that wasn't terribly emotional. I felt he needed a break. I also felt like I had to be honest with him about my job.
'Sparky, there's something I have to tell you,' I felt my head throb a little bit.
He just raised his eyebrows and looked at me.
'There's a good chance I might not be working here in a week or so.'
'Huh?'
'I've got myself in a little trouble that I might not be able to get out of. I don't do real good at paperwork and I might get fired because of it.' I didn't see any point in mentioning his ex's role in my problems.
'Paperwork? Who gives a shit about paperwork?'
'It's important, trust me.' I hesitated. 'I'm going to try to not let it happen, Sparky, but I don't know if I can pull it off.' Sparky just looked confused.
'Paperwork seems like a stupid reason to fire a counselor,' he said.
'I just didn't want you showing up here and me not be here without any explanation.'
'When would this go down?'
'If I don't get this shit done-a week from Monday at the latest.' I felt shitty.
He nodded and didn't say anything. It wouldn't be like a guy like Sparky to say something about it.
That just made me feel worse.
26
I pulled up to the Blue, my head throbbing. I felt a little nauseous and jittery, but tried to tell myself not to worry about it because I'd get over it. It didn't make a really convincing argument.
Elvis neared the end of It Hurts Me, the '68 Special version, not the studio one. I stayed to listen to him finish it before getting out of the car. When I opened the door I immediately heard Al making a sick moan. Even though he was inside, it came through loud and clear.
I raced into the trailer. Al stopped his moaning for a second when I came through the door. He sat in front of a slumped Karl, who was in a T-shirt and shorts and soaked in sweat. His head slumped down on his chest and he acted like he had passed out.
'Karl, Karl, Are you all right!' I yelled while grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at me.
'Nestrrr…' Something unintelligible came out of his mouth.
'Karl, say it again.'
'Newstr…'
'New what?'
'Newstrr..'
He began to cry, but it was slowed by whatever else he had taken.
'Karl, what did you take?'
'Lotta shit…' he slurred.
'Karl-why did you do this to yourself?'
'Him…'
'Who?'
'News…told me to.'
'Newstrom? The guy from the Army?'
Karl nodded and began to cry again. I looked at Al who had furrowed his brow.
'He came here?'
'Phone…'
'Are you in danger?'
Karl nodded, tears streaming down.
I didn't want to take any chances, so I rushed Karl to the emergency room. I knew Karl hated the hospital, but he probably wouldn't like dying much either. They took him someplace as soon as I brought him in. I had to sit in the little waiting room with the vinyl chairs. I found myself praying for the first time in as long as I could remember.
Two hours later a doctor with freckles and shaggy red hair, who looked about 14 years old, called my name from a clipboard. Dr. Picard introduced himself in a hurried way and you could tell he concentrated on being empathic, but really didn't have the energy for it. He told me Karl had taken an overdose of Valium and some anti- depressants and they would make him pretty sick, but they wouldn't cause him any permanent harm. He went on to tell me he would have to stay in the mental health unit and be evaluated before he could be released. At a minimum they would have to wait until the drugs had cleared his system. I got asked to wait until they admitted him to that unit before I could talk to him and then it would only be for a few minutes. I made myself as comfortable as possible on the orange vinyl.
Two hours and twenty minutes later a young and attractive, but exhausted looking nurse called my name. She wore bright yellow Crocs and had her straight brown hair pulled back into a hastily thrown together bun. Her name badge said 'Shea' and she certainly looked Irish.
'You can talk to Karl, but please only for a few minutes,' she looked me right in the eye. 'We want him to sleep soon.' I nodded and went around the curtains to talk to my buddy. He sat in a wheelchair. Other than looking pale and sleepy, he looked all right.
'He called me, Duffy,' Karl said slowly, without slurring.
'He told me to kill myself like I wanted to in Germany, because it would be easier than what he intended to put me through.'
'Karl-'
'I tried, Duff. He got to me enough that I tried to do it.' Karl started to weep and brought a hand up to his eyes. 'I can't believe what this man can do. I tried to kill myself because he said to.' He went back to crying.
My neck started to twitch and my head throbbed. I looked down at my hands. They were fists.
'He had me try to kill myself!' Karl said again through the tears.
'Karl, stop it. He may have tried, but you didn't take enough to carry it out. And you know how to do it. You didn't want to,' I knew it was a weak argument.
'He told me about his plans, too.'
'What plans?'
'He laughed and bragged about getting away with whatever he wanted to. That no one even knew enough to want to stop him. That everyone knew I was a nut job.'
'Did he tell you his plans, Karl?'
'There will be a college-type massacre Saturday.'
'What!'
'Yeah, he said to keep my eye on the sports page for college football Saturday.'
'What the hell does that mean?'
'He said something about 'Shaking down the thunder' for real.'
'He used those words…'Shaking down the thunder'?'
'Yeah, I have no idea what that means.'
'I do,' It sent a shiver through me. 'That's part of the Notre Dame fight song.'
'Notre Dame?'
'Yeah, they open with Michigan this Saturday.'
