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.Still staring away, Gerald said, “So what am I supposed to do?” He raised his cigarette, taking a final drag before flipping it away.“I’m not here to tell you what to do.That is your choice.” Gerald turned to Mr.Holman, but he was gone.He looked at the fire, watched the orange flame fade to green, then purple.As the flame then shifted to black, he faded right along with it.“Hey, Gerald, wake up, man.”Gerald snapped awake, entirely conscious and sober.“What the—” he started, but was cut off, almost choking on his tongue.It felt swollen, inflamed as if infected.He clutched his throat, unable to think of anything else to do.“Oh, fuck, man, you’re choking,” Wilson said.Gerald shook his head, mouthed “water” and continued trying to pry his throat open.Wilson ran to the kitchen, filled a glass halfway, and ran back to Gerald, almost shoving it into his mouth.As soon as the water hit his tongue, the swelling subsided, and he could breathe again.“Jesus Christ,” he said, coughing.Gerald tried to stand, almost fell, and settled for doubling over with his hands on his knees.“How long was I out? What happened?”Wilson looked at him, confused despite the story Gerald had told him earlier.“Out? I don’t know, man.I went to take a piss, came back and saw you on the floor.Couldn’t have been more than a minute or two.”Gerald stared at him in disbelief.A minute or two? “I think I was in the other reality again.Sometimes I can remember things.Like now, I remember Mr.Holman.”“Oh shit, the guy who got hit by the truck?”“Yeah.I’m pretty sure it’s always him that I see.”“Like in Pet Sematary.The doc can’t save that college kid that got hit, and he keeps coming back to help them.” Great.Of all the books in the world for his life to mirror, it was hard to think of a worse one than Pet Sematary.“If I start burying shit in the backyard, you should get really worried.” Gerald was surprised he had a sense of humor about this.Wilson stared at him for another second or two, then burst out laughing.“Fuck man, this shit’s nuts.No way I could hold it together as well as you.”“Hold it together? Are you kidding? I haven’t been to work in I don’t know how long.I’ve spent almost every moment I can remember drunk or in some fucking alternate reality.I wake up in the field behind my house, then walk home to find beer cans shot up all over the place.A guy chased me down the street with scissors and got hit by a truck, and his body was disintegrated.Disintegrated, like it’s fucking Star Trek or something.”“If it was Star Trek it would be disruptors.Or phasers.” Wilson held a straight face for a minute, then cracked up again.“Come on, man.You gotta lighten up about this.Just go with the flow, know what I mean?”“Go with the flow?”“Fuck yeah.Can’t do shit about it, so why get all shitty?”Gerald started to argue, then realized he had nothing to say in rebuttal.Can’t do shit about it, why get all shitty? Go with the flow.Under the circumstances, he couldn’t think of anything better to do.“You’re right,” he said, and sat back down on the couch.“Maybe that’s been the problem the whole time.I need to quit doing whatever it is I’m doing, and just go with the flow.”“Fuck yeah,” Wilson said, holding out a beer.Gerald smiled and shook his head.“No thanks.I think that’s about the last thing I need right now.”Chapter 15When 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 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]