Chapter 15

When Gerald awoke this time, he was on Wilson’s couch where he’d spent the remainder of the evening reasonably certain there had been no more trips to alternate realities. Wilson was still asleep, or at least not out in the living room, so Gerald took advantage of the time to let everything sink in.

   It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had enough time alone to think, but Wilson’s advice gave him a new outlook. There was no reason to fight this anymore. No reason for all the mental anguish. The drunks in the twelve step programs were onto something. Acceptance really was a powerful thing.

   After his head had cleared a bit, Gerald got up and looked around for his cigarettes. “Looking for one of these?”

   Gerald looked over and saw Wilson staggering out of the hallway, a pack of Camels in his outstretched hand. “Yeah,” Gerald said, taking the pack and shaking one out. He lit it, started to hand the pack back to Wilson, but saw that he’d disappeared into the kitchen. Gerald couldn’t believe his ears when he heard the snap-fizz of a beer can opening. When Wilson walked back into the room, Budweiser in hand, Gerald’s jaw dropped slightly.

   “Hair of the dog, bro,” Wilson said, grinning with one side of his mouth. Gerald didn’t smile back.

   “Am I the only one who needs to be dialing it back with the drinking?”

   Wilson smiled at him again, but this time there was no humor or friendliness in it. “I’m glad you’re here, and I’m sorry for all the shit that’s going on, but this telling me what to do with my life bit can fuck off.” Wilson tipped the beer back two times, then crushed the can.

   “I didn’t mean it like that—”

   “Don’t do that. You said it, don’t go pretending you didn’t.”

   “No, I just—”

   “Just nothing. You split, just disappeared and I don’t hear shit from you for forever. I’m not mad, but I’m not gonna listen to you tell me how to live.”

   Gerald stood silent. Wilson’s defensiveness didn’t do anything to make him seem like he had less of a problem, but he was right. You don’t walk away from somebody then come back telling him what to do. He chose his words carefully. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He thought about saying more, but decided silence was best, and anything else might seem like justification for what he’d said earlier.

   “Thanks,” Wilson said. He got up, walked over to Gerald, and gave him another hug. “Now let’s go get some breakfast. I’m fucking starving.”

Gerald and Wilson walked out of Denny’s, both of them feeling bloated after the pancakes and omelets. They got in Wilson’s car, each lit a cigarette, and pulled out of the parking lot.

   “Nothing like pancakes and grease for a hangover,” Wilson said. He turned on the radio, keeping the volume low. “Thanks for picking up the tab, by the way. Things have been pretty tight since I got laid off.”

   Gerald shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He took a deep drag from his cigarette and sunk into the seat, listening to the song on the radio. It was tuned to some oldies station. Gerald didn’t recognize the song, but welcomed anything laid back and cheerful. They stayed quiet the rest of the drive, until Wilson pulled into Gerald’s driveway.

   “It was really good seeing you. Don’t wait so damn long next time.” Wilson smiled. Gerald looked back at him.

   “You believe all that shit I told you,” Gerald said, not questioning it.

   “Either you’re telling the truth, or you’re fucking crazy,” Wilson said, reaching for another cigarette, “and I’m pretty sure you’re not crazy.”

   “That means a lot. Seriously.”

   “You want me to hang around? Not like I got a job to go to or anything.”

   “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be alright.” Gerald thought about his own job, and decided that even if he wasn’t already fired, he wasn’t going back. Whatever happened with this stuff that was going on, he was going to make some changes in his life. No more being a miserable motherfucker all the time. He hated his job, so he’d get a new one. The first thing he was going to do when he got inside was call and quit. No, he couldn’t do that. He needed to do it in person. “Tell you what,” he said. “Come on in. I’m gonna get a shower and change, then we’re gonna go to my office. I’m quitting that stupid job.”

   “Quitting without another one lined up? Good move, bro,” Wilson said, laughing.

   “So you can tell me how to run my life, but I can’t tell you how to run yours?”

   “Fuckin’ A, man.” They both laughed and went inside.