27
'Notre Dame? The Notre Dame?' Kelley said. I'd stopped off at AJ's after leaving Karl to get some rest on the happy unit.
'Yeah. It makes sense. National TV, the most famous program, a prestigious University,' I said. Kelley stared at me.
'What?'
'How's your head?' Kelley let the condensation run down the side of his Coors' Light.
'Oh, fuck you, Kel.'
'Do you have any idea how ridiculous this sounds? It makes the Foursome sound sane and rational.'
I sipped my Schlitz and got more and more angry. I don't know if anyone ever looked at you like they really believed you're crazy or not, but it's not fun.
'Check it out Duff. Let me ask the brain trust what they think.'
I just sat there and shook my head. I finished off the Schlitz and AJ slid another in front of me.
'Uh, excuse me fellas.' The Foursome stopped their conversation. In all the time I've been coming to AJ's, I don't think Kelley ever started a conversation with the Foursome.
'What's up Kel?' Rocco said.
'You know Duffy's friend, Karl?' The Foursome nodded, almost in unison. 'He's told Duffy a sniper is going to shoot up the Notre-Dame Michigan game. Says it's going to be another Virginia Tech,' Kelley said.
'Notre Dame has got Asian students,' TC said.
'I thought they were the Fighting Irish,' Jerry Number One said.
'Not in the math department,' Jerry Number Two said.
'Uh, fellas-do you think our buddy Duffy ought to take it seriously?'
'Hell no,' Jerry Number One said. 'No offense, Duff, but your buddy is a little out there.'
'You said yourself. Shit, he told me himself, he's a paranoical schizomaniac,' Rocco said. 'Probably just a delusion.'
'He's the one who meditates in the nude with Al, wasn't he?' TC said.
'Duffy, your head okay?' Jerry Number One said. I didn't say anything. I just sat and drank my beer. The only one who wasn't laughing at me was Jerry Number Two.
'So Duff…when are you leaving for South Bend? Maybe Knute Rockne will speak to you from the grave and clue you in,' Jerry Number One said.
'Or, the Gipper or better yet, Ronald Reagan as the Gipper,' Rocco said.
'Is he the hunchback guy?' TC said.
I had heard enough. I felt my blood pulse through my neck and my head throbbed. I swallowed half of the Schlitz and slammed the bottle down on the bar with enough force it shattered and glass went all over the place. All the guys stopped laughing and got quiet, real quiet.
'Fuck you guys,' I said and headed for the door.
My head went spinning. People I trusted told me I was crazy. A doctor friend told me to keep an eye on myself because he thought I'd get a little loopy. Trina even told me to get some help.
The only guy who seemed to share my sentiments wore a Redskins helmet and meditated in the nude with my basset hound.
After work the next day, I picked up Al and we headed back to the Medical Center to see if Karl was ready to be discharged. Elvis sang Help Me from '74 and I dueted for the entire ride. Usually when someone ODed, the hospitals would discharge them to a psychiatric appointment, but I called them and able to convinced them because Karl was my client they could send him home in my care.
We stopped at the reception desk to find out where to pick Karl up this time. To my chagrin, the same receptionist sat there. Before I could brace myself Al did his stink-seeking missile routine and went right between the legs of the gravitationally challenged woman behind the massive phone system.
'There's my buddy!' she said while trying to lift Al's head from her nether regions. 'You're such a good boy!' The good boy sneezed.
The fat lady yelped.
'Uh, I'm here to pick up Karl Greene,' I said because I could think of nothing else.
The receptionist looked at her monitor, which took two hands and Al's nose torpedoed to its prize.
Al sneezed again.
The fat lady yelped.
'He's on the fifth floor and you'll have to meet with his social worker before he's discharged,' she said with less enthusiasm then before.
I pulled Al out from between her legs. He did the tornado thing to get the slobber from out of his jowls. Apparently, he had worked up a bunch from his spelunking adventure. Logiest flew all over the place and Al sneezed again.
Another socially awkward interaction.
Up on the fifth floor I had to meet with another receptionist who thanked me and said 'please' and 'thank you' and all that kind of stuff while at the same time managing to give me the feeling she held me in contempt. Al barked at her like he wanted to tell her to loosen up and she frowned at him.
'Dogs aren't allowed on the unit.'
'He's a therapy dog.'
'We don't allow therapy dogs on the mental health unit.'
'Well, we won't be here long.'
'I will call security and they can watch him.'
'We really won't be here long,' I said and watched her call security.
A twenty-something guy dressed like a cop, who looked liked he just woke up came and took Al by the leash. Al didn't care for that.
' Gerri,' Al said.
'Is he, like, you know, dangerous?' The hospital rent-a-cop said.
'Not usually,' I said. 'Al, take it easy buddy. It's okay.' The security guard walked-actually, more like dragged Al down the corridor. Al kept looking over his shoulder while the security cop talked on his radio.
A social worker, who looked like she got out of social work school that morning, came out with Karl and a clipboard.
'Good Morning. I'm Cynthia O'Hara-Rodriquez,' she said and offered her hand. She was pretty, but looked like she tried hard not to be. She had short hair made to look unkempt, a faded green t-shit, and way too baggy cargo pants.
'Good morning. Hey, Karl, how are you?' I said. Karl made eye contact with me and nodded. He looked with it, but depressed.
'Karl is showing signs of dysthmia. He's really going to need your support and he will have to take it easy for awhile,' the social worker said. 'Can you provide a supportive, calm, and nurturing environment?'
Karl made a face.
'Of course, I can,' I said.
'I have discharge plans I'd like to go over with both of you.' She pulled out what looked to be a four-page form. Karl rolled his eyes.
'The first opportunity statement is-'
'Excuse me?'
'What?' she said.
'Opportunity statement?'
'Yes?'
'What the hell is that?'
'It's like, you know, a problem.'
