I was not expecting what I saw when I opened my eyes. I certainly wasn't in my bed. Light filtered through green curtains into a small room. I was wearing jeans and a blouse with an itchy collar and my bra felt too tight. Was the room really rocking, or was it all in my head? Same for that deep throbbing noise – was that real too?I tried to remember. I tried to remember anything. Then the knot in my stomach came back and I wished I could have unremembered for a few minutes longer.But it came tumbling in on me. That night. I shook my head to keep those memories away. That bastard. I let myself remember making my decision, though. Taking the pills, then realizing that it was not going to be enough. If two are prescribed for sleep, four weren't going to, like, kill ... So I'd thought of the bridge. The hurried walk, standing there, getting ready to jump, and then...And then what?Was I even still alive? Unfortunately, I felt alive. In fact, I felt alive enough that I realized I needed to. The next morning when I awoke the first thought I had was, “Mr. Cabernet.” “Aha!” I thought, “Mr. Cabernet, international spy.” It was seven or eight, maybe nine weeks later when my phone rang one Friday night. I answered and a deep voice said, “Thad, it’s Steve. I know it’s late, but is there any way you can come to the hotel?” Without hesitation I said, “Yeah, I can go.” “Good, room two seventeen, got that? Two seventeen. Don’t stop downstairs. Just come straight on up. Two seventeen. See you then.” I told Pop that it had been Tommy Santiago on the phone and I had his math work book and he had mine. I was going to take it to him and we were going to study for an exam on Monday. I ran to the bus stop and hopped from one foot to the other waiting for the damn bus to arrive. When I got off I ran two blocks to the hotel, but had the good sense to slow down and walk through the lobby at a normal pace. I knocked on the door and Steve opened it, smiled and said, “Thad, good to see.
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