Happy Go Lucky
As everyone knows, waking up in the morning is the worst part of the day. Edwin sometimes wished that he never had to experience leaving his dreams for his subpar life. Today was no exception. Waking up in the pile of rags he called sheets, into the depression he called his life Edwin rolled himself out of bed knowing he couldn’t be late again.
I fucking hate being phony.
This thought followed Edwin through his discussion with his psychiatrist. Edwin had a past and it wasn’t the type that he thought fondly of either. Apparently heroin use was illegal and so after finally finding a way to shut out the pain of the world, Edwin was placed into rehab which is just another word for hell. His progress had been slow as Edwin could not for his life see what was wrong with trying to be happy. But after awhile he understood, we all do it. We all have our highs that we chase but we are supposed to lie about them. As if we are ashamed of our happiness. Being fake was something Edwin loathed but he could see the importance of getting out of the clinic. And so he was able to lie his way out of rehab. He got out of rehab at noon and by five had found his dealer. Life was good.
Of course the prick across from him wouldn’t understand that we should just do whatever makes us happy so it was back to being phony.
Prick: “Well it looks like you have had a steady job for about four months now Edwin. But what have you been doing with yourself after work, for example have you been seeing anyone?”
Edwin: What I do in my spare time is my fucking business and you can go to hell. Want to know? I’ve been doing more heroin than ever so stop looking at me like you’ve saved a baby seal from fucking drowning you self righteous prick.
“Well, I’ve been trying to attend daily mass. It sounds odd to say it this way but I have figured out that I have an addictive personality so I’m trying to choose being addicted to Jesus. At the moment I haven’t been seeing anyone. I feel like I need to get me in order before I bring someone else into the mix.”
Prick: “That’s great. It’s so important you realize how vulnerable to addictions you are. But then to try to use it to grow closer to your god, Edwin I don’t want to be jumping the gun but after four months of talking with you…well I’d have to be a fool to think you aren’t close to being fully recovered from your addiction. That being said though we will still have to meet next month…
After a thirty minute discussion of why things seemed to be going well Edwin hurried out of the meeting so he could make his next appointment. After getting off the metro and going through a few roads he found the alley of his appointment. Life was good again. But as good as Edwin knew it was going to get when he was home he still had to go to a birthday party.
After Edwin got out of rehab there wasn’t exactly a rush by employers to hand him a job. This being the case he had to find one on his own and this is when Edwin ran into his current entertainment profession. Being a clown had distinct advantages for someone in Edwin’s position. For one, no one in the agency asked if he still did drugs, they assumed he did so he didn’t have to be phony. Also the hours were fairly flexible and he didn’t have to work at forty hour job to get his drug money. But perhaps the best thing about being a clown to Edwin was that the makeup and clothes hid the scars heroin gave to him. Also, his job didn’t require him to talk about himself, just make some kids laugh. Not to mention he was now an expert at applying makeup to hide his scars. All he had to do to look decent to the prick was force himself to eat. It was perfect.
Shit.
The birthday party was being thrown by a Christian family and while Edwin never really believed in Jesus he always felt guilty and inadequate being around these “good” people. But a job’s a job so Edwin went to work making the kids laugh. Overall, it was an easy gig and he was done before he felt the dull ache in his head he usually got at these things. The only weird thing was they tipped too high. If there was any principle Edwin still help strong to it was to never accept charity and to make your own way in life. But the family just said it was because he did a great job and refused to take it back.
You and I both know damn well I didn’t do an amazing job. I never have. I don’t need your charity and I sure as hell don’t need your pity or phoniness.
Edwin left the job torn about what to do about the high tip. For normal people he’d just take it and buy more heroin but these people gave it to him, as opposed to him earning it. So he reached a decision that he hadn’t made in years. Edwin wanted to go to a church and give the money away. Churches are where charity and pity belong. So he went to the closest church he could find. As he entered the church he recognized that it was the church he grew up in.
How weird, I could have sworn they tore this place down or something. Ha, there’s the confessional where I first said confession. O shit! Father Carter still runs this place. Damn it he saw me.
Father: “Hello, Edwin how are you and your family? And more importantly, why haven’t I seen you in church?” (Father said this with the finger pointing of scolding a child and a smirk of understanding the absurdity of treating Edwin like such a child)
Edwin had always liked Father Carter but that just made it worse. He wished he could hate him and say the church crap was just self righteous masturbation but he couldn’t do that. Father Carter had always been too kind to be like that. So Edwin was forced to play the prodigal son until he could give the money and get the hell out of there.
Edwin: “O we’re doing great. (Father would have heard I went into rehab) Well I’ve hit a bit of a rough patch but I’m getting back on my feet. Actually I came to make a donation.”
Father: “You’ve never been the tithing type my boy (Edwin couldn’t help but squirm a little at the name). What’s going on? You aren’t leaving us are you?”
Edwin: “Nah, you know me Father. I’m not going anywhere. Chances are I’ll die in this city. I just came into some money and wanted to share it. That’s all.”
Father Carter searched Edwin’s face but after being a clown for a few months Edwin knew how to hide how he actually felt and project how he wanted people to think he felt. For hating phonies he was a great one. After awhile of that Father Carter acquiesced to taking the donation.
Father: “We’ll see you this Sunday, right?”
Edwin: “Sure, if God’s willing.” Priests eat that shit up.
On the way home with his only joy in his backpack, Edwin got a call from his older sister. Edwin’s sister, Hope, was the only person in his family that still considered him family. Based on Father Carter’s question, his guess was that his parents still pretended like they were close with him in church. Fucking phonies.
Hope: “Yeah, I haven’t heard from you in a while. What’s going on? You staying clean?”
She was never one for small talk.
Edwin: “Hey, I was going to call you but I’ve just been really bus-“
Hope: “Bullshit Edwin. I’ve called you the last four months; it’s never been the other way around. Listen I love you and want you to do better but I can’t stand knowing you’re lying to me even about something as trivial as that.”
Edwin: “Yeah, sorry… (awkward pause)…O, I went to the old church (neither of them went to church anymore). I saw the confessional. Did I ever tell you what my first confession was? O, and Father Carter was there. I got the weird feeling of wondering if he’d ever done heroine.”
Hope: “Ha, I don’t think so. He’s a priest not an idiot. What was the confession?”
Edwin could tell she was trying not to sound as pleased as she was over this. He’d not talked about their childhood with her for years and honestly their relationship as brother and sister was always kind of messed up once she found out he did heroine.
Edwin: “Well I remember earlier that week we had whoppers in the house (you remember how much Dad loved whoppers) and they were in the fridge. I had been eating some all day and you told me to stop eating them. But then you went upstairs to do something and I snuck some more in my mouth and ate them before you came back down but you told me you had heard the fridge door open and asked if I had eaten any more whoppers. Then I said that I hadn’t but I had gone outside to get my glove. That seemed to satisfy you but I felt like crap. Ha, I remember telling Father Carter about it and he was stunned that that was all I could come up with for my first confession but I felt awful about it.”
The story had gotten a laugh out of Hope but not the same strained chuckle as with the joke about Father Carter doing heroin. This laugh seemed genuine and free. Like it was a story from so long ago that it escaped the stain of Edwin’s addiction. It made Edwin feel great. He thought about why he felt good and realized that it was because he made someone laugh without being phony, he was just telling his sister a story from their childhood and they were chuckling over it innocently. Then he remembered why such moments were rare and was slightly depressed.
Edwin: “Listen, it’s been great to talk to you Hope but I really have to go. Can I call you tomorrow morning after I wake up?”
Hope: “I guess sure, but then we seriously have to talk about how you’ve been doing. I want to know if you need my help.”
And so Edwin said goodbye to Hope and by this time Edwin had walked home. He was thinking about the day with the Prick and the jerks who tipped too much. But then it got better and he was able to talk to his old priest and then his sister. Who knows? Maybe church on Sunday wouldn’t be that bad. Then he remembered what was in his book bag and after a few minutes debate he ended up getting his spoon out and warming himself up some liquid joy. As he slowly injected it in he could feel the happiness coming. Life was good. It couldn’t hurt to press it in a little faster, today was a busy day. Suddenly, Edwin got dizzy and made for the bed.
Woah, getting a little dizzy. I’ll have to lay down for this. Damn, I think he didn’t cut it as much as usual…maybe I should…can’t go back to rehaaa…should have said I loved her…
Edwin didn’t have to bother with the worst part of the day.
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