TUCKER
I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. I’m in a room full of mostly old dudes who’ve just poured their hearts out and I’m here, just some young rich kid who couldn’t control his habits. I hate this.
There’s this guy over at the other end of the circle, right opposite me. His name’s Rob. He used to be married and had a job in construction. Life got too much for him, though, so he turned to the drink and lost everything.
And then there’s me.
I pause for a moment and scan the room. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Maybe the dinosaurs come back to life, and one swallows me whole.
“Errm. I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’ve got the right to be here.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because… All of your stories. I’m just some kid from a rich family. Some of you had rough lives. My life isn’t anywhere near as fucked up as yours and I still failed.”
“Would anyone like to respond to that?” Gary says.
Amir raises his arm. “I will. I’ve been clean for what now?
Five years? The thing they don’t tell you about the bottle or the pills is they’re the devil.
No one makes a deal with the devil because we know it’s bad.
But when the devil lives inside of you, you don’t know what you’re agreeing to until it’s too late.
When the devil takes hold, it takes a struggle to rid yourself of him.
And even then, he’s still there, in the shadows -- that voice at the back of your head -- waiting patiently. ”
“I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it like that,” I say.
“The devil comes for all of us,” Maggie says, “it doesn't matter your age. He’s in all of us just waiting to pounce. He preys on those of us with struggles and waits for us when we’re weak.”
I rub my head as I try to make sense of this almost Biblical metaphor.
“So, what am I supposed to do?”
“Talk to people. Talk to us, talk to your family,” Gary says. “What’s your relationship like with them?”
“My eldest bro is coming around. Ant -- Antony -- has taken the role of being the judgmental douche. The rest seem to get it, though.”
“I just want to stop you for a moment. You say they ‘get’ it. I’d like to hear what you think there is to ‘get’?”
I pause again. “Hmm. I’m not sure. I mean, I guess that change is hard. It’s easier when you want to -- and believe me I do -- but just cause you want to doesn’t mean it’ll be a cakewalk. Change takes time. And work.”
The entire group start clapping softly. For a moment, I’m a little lost.
“He gets it,” Amir says. “He totally gets it.”
“Okay. I think that’s enough for today. As always, feel free to stick around for coffee. I won’t even complain when Amir says it--”
“Tastes like pure shit.”
We all laugh. Despite how much hearing all these stories take out of me, and how much agony I’m in from speaking so openly, I’m left feeling a kind of hope I didn’t have before.
After a handful of the group leaves, I remain, and Amir comes over with two coffees and hands one to me.
“I thought you said it tastes like pure shit?” I say.
“It does, but it ain’t about the coffee, it’s about the people drinking the coffee with you. Always, always make sure the person at the other end of the cup is someone worthy of your time. Because at the end of day, time is our hottest property.”
“Fuuuuck.”
“Haha. You, okay? Did you mean to say that out loud?”
“No, yes, I mean, You’re like what, mid-thirties? And you’ve been clean for five years? How did you do it?”
“Early thirties, and yeah. 1,902 days to be exact.”
“You count them?”
“Damn right I do. Every day I don’t drink, or use is a cause for celebration.
Why wouldn’t I count 1,902 celebrations?
I'm a damn king at this shit. I wasn’t always, of course, lots of silver chip moments before I got into the swing of things.
But life changes, and you can either change with it, change it, or succumb to it. ”
“Dude. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it kid.”
I turn to leave, then stop for a second. “Hey, before I go. Do you, errm, wanna see a pic of my kid?”
“Oh shit, you’re damn right I wanna see a pic of you kid, give it here.”
I pull out the ultrasound picture Amber gave, and for a brief moment the world falls away.
“My man, that is amazing,” Amir says, handing me the picture back. “You know what, I got a good feeling about you, kid. I reckon you’ll rock this dad shit.”
----
“Tucker, come on in,” Ryan says.
I’d promised I’d go to his after my first AA and fill him in on what happened.
We both walk through to his living room. He’s got new vases. I choose not to comment.
I slump down on the couch and Ryan sits in his recliner.
“Boom,” I say, dropping my silver coin from AA on the table.
“And what does that mean?”
“That I’ve attended my first meeting and I’ve been sober for longer than 24 hours.” I have been sober for longer, but you know, rules and stuff.
“That’s great to hear. How was it?”
“Fine. Weird. Really weird. Like, I didn’t think I’d relate to a woman in her 60s and there’s this massive dude who sounds like a prophet or some shit.”
“I’m glad. You want a drink? We got soda.”
“Nah, bro, I've just had one. We should grab a ‘coffee’ sometime though. It’s important to drink coffee with people you care about and have them hold the other cup.” This sounded so much better when Amir said it.
“Errm. Sure. So, about the surf school. What’s the plan?”
“Oh, that. Yeah, I’ve got it sorted. I got someone I went to college with making me up some flyers and a website. I’m gonna run ads in the paper. Keep it low-key, you dig? Figure I’ll start off small, test the water so to speak, then scale up.”
“And pricing?”
“Group sessions are 40 bucks for a two-hour session. Half-price for a taster. Group sessions are more cost effective than one-on-one sessions.”
“And how--”
“Overheads should be fairly cheap. I can bulk buy the boards and any safety equipment. The main cost here is time.”
“And what about--”
“That’ll depend on Amber. She’ll want to get back to work when she can. She loves her job. But we should be able to get a nanny to cover the time when we’re both working.”
“Won’t that--”
“Yeah, it’ll add costs, but I’m not gonna be working nine-to-five, remember? I’ll finish late-afternoon, so we won’t be paying for a full-time nanny.”
“But what about--”
“I’ll still be able to attend AA. They’re evenings, so Amber will be able to have the bean for a couple of hours while I’m there.”
“Jesus, Tucker. You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”
“Damn right I have. Having a routine is good for me. Or at least that’s what Gary says.”
Ryan takes a moment; I assume he’s thinking it all through. He’s the computer of the family.
“Okay. Here’s the deal. Why don’t you bring your school to the resort?”
“WHAT THE FUCK?! Are you serious?”
“I can change my mind if you want?”
“Dude, bro, my man, I’d freaking love to bring my shit to the resort. Think of all the people it’d reach. We’d be able to get old folks into it. I bet they’d love that. Nothing too heavy, obvs, just some simple paddling to loosen the joints up. DUDE!”
“Ha, I thought you’d like that. Now, the important stuff. You and Amber. What’s going on?”
I stare over at Ryan. I swear I saw a crack in his icy face.
“I love her.”
Ryan smiles. Yes, that Ryan. He smiles. His mouth actually moves. The corners turn upwards and everything. I’m in shock.
“That’s all I needed to hear. Give me a call tomorrow and we’ll go over it in more detail. I bet you’re wiped from today and could use a good night's sleep.”
“You, bro, are 100 percent correct. I. Am. Beat. Why didn’t anyone tell me adulting was this tiring?”
“You get used to it,” Ryan says as he stands to escort me out.
“Hey Ryan, I know neither of us are good at this, but like, I appreciate you.”
Ryan looks shocked. Well, as shocked as a granite statue can look.
“Don’t mention it. Bro."