Jesus was still wearing his apron whites from his job at the restaurant. He waited for Dan to get in the front seat, so they could speed over to Pete’s. They didn’t want to be late, but it was better to be late to their Alcoholics Anonymous Meeting than to miss Pete; leaving Pete behind was not an option.
“Chicken marsala!” said Dan, as he opened the Styrofoam container Jesus had had waiting for him. Dan lived in his own apartment with the help of Carson Center’s community programs. He could cook a few simple meals, he had a cat named Rover, and friends, but it was Jesus’ leftovers that made him feel at home.
“Look at it out there,” said Dan miserably.
Winter had overstayed. This early April evening was more like a brutal early March evening. Still, cold couldn’t last forever. The trees were dark and spindly, but far inside, they were slowly waking from dreams, thinking in green, red, pink and yellow, patient for the bossy wind to gather his empties, and leather coat, and clatter on home to the arctic bar.
When it was warm out, Dan would share his community garden vegetables with Jesus and Pete. Pete was a plumber and repair man. He helped Dan keep his small place in good shape. Jesus preferred speaking Spanish and he hated football. Pete spoke only English and loved football. Pete hated “foreign” food. The three of them had little of the things in common that make many friendships easy; they weren’t from the same generation, didn’t like the same food or teams, and didn’t share hobbies, but on the same night three years ago, they had tried to kill themselves.
They met at Carson’s crisis respite program. There, the team of therapists and psychiatrists helped them find new footing. Each one had lost their homes, their jobs, their relationships with their families and their hope– to their addiction. During the hardest months of new sobriety, they could feel that even if it was just because they could talk to one another, that there was something in them waking from the cold.
Pete jumped in the back, closed the door against the wind, complaining loudly about the aroma of the spicy chicken in the car as they drove together to their meeting. Jesus smiled silently and steered with one arm for a short moment, as he passed back a second Styrofoam container to Pete containing a solid burger, still warm.
By JAC Patrissi
