Far from All Else

by Tom Lally

“Yeah, I’m ready. Feels weird though. I don’t really know how to put it,” I said.

  “I understand. That’s normal. Well, I wanted to let you know that your sister is waiting downstairs. Dougie will take you down to the storage room where you can collect your belongings and then after a few forms, you’ll be on your way,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “No problem,” she said.

  “No really, thank you for everything. I don’t know where I’d be right now if it weren’t for you,” I said.

  Dr. Phillips walked over to me and stuck her hand out. Her red lips grinned and a gleam covered her face. Even if I had lied to her in that moment, that look would probably still be plastered to her face, but she had a way of making it feel special.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “What’d I do?” I asked.

  “Three weeks ago, you said, ‘There’s nothing worth saving here.’ Thank you for trusting me to change that,” she said. “Do you feel that way too?”

  “Yeah. I still struggle at times, but I feel better than I did before. Definitely,” I said.

  “Struggles occur. That’s part of getting better. If you ever need to contact me, I gave your sister my number and here’s my card in case,” she said.

  Inside her lab coat pocket, she pulled out a business card with her name and number printed on it. I nodded my head and smiled. Dr. Phillips’s arms wrapped around my shoulders and we hugged.

  “I called Dr. Merriweather. He wants to you to call him today at some point to set up a meeting,” she said as we let go of each other.

  “Okay, will do,” I said.

  “I’ll let Dougie know you’re ready,” she said as she backtracked to the door.

  “Okay thank you, but do you mind if I see Harlan before I go?” I asked.

  “Oh right, yes. Olga is expecting you,” she said.

  “Great, thank you again,” I said.

  “Take care, Drew, and please, keep writing,” she said.

  “I gotta come up with some more ideas,” I said.

  Dr. Phillips stopped moving and tilted her head slightly. Her lips contorted to make a smirk.

  “It’s all fodder, Drew. Everything you’ve ever been through or heard,” she said.

  “I guess so,” I said.

  “Don’t stop writing. It can only help you,” she said. “Promise?”

  “I won’t stop,” I said, “I promise.”

  ***

  I went to the bathroom afterwards, reminding myself as I stood over the urinal that this was the last time I’d be taking a piss in this building. It made me chuckle. I pulled the handle down on top of the urinal and listened as the water was sucked through the drain before making my way to the sink. My reflection smiled at me, but I couldn’t help but think about Harlan sitting in a pool of his own blood.

  I walked back to my room. The door was partially opened and I nudged it forward with my shoulder before closing it without ever once looking up from the floor. As I turned towards my bed, Jared’s feet bounced against my desk. He sat in my desk chair with my bag on his lap, holding my notebook in front of his face.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Readin’,” he said.

  I quickly walked over and tried to snatch my belongings from him, but he shifted himself so his feet were back on the floor, ready to lunge at me like some sort of predator. He held my notebook out of my reach with his long arms.

  “What is this shit?” he asked.

  “None of your business,” I said and grabbed his forearm.

  He snarled and threw his free hand into my stomach, sending me gasping for air on the floor.

  “Don’t ever fuckin’ touch me,” he said as he stood up.

  I heard him flicking through the pages of my notebook before shutting it.

  “I think I’ll keep this,” he said. “You ain’t need it no more.”

  I rose to my feet, staggering away from him in case he tried to keep me down.

  “Give it back,” I said.

  “You remember who runs this place? If you leavin’, I get something,” he said.

  “You are delusional,” I said with a cough.

  “Ain’t me. That’s you if you thought you was getting outta here without giving somethin’ to me,” he said.

  I don’t know what made me do it. Maybe it was the fact that I’d never see him again or maybe because my writing re-entered my life as a focal point of maintaining my health. The only thing I could think of though were Leighton’s drawings. I couldn’t lose those. She shared those with me and Dr. Phillips. There was a certain duty behind retrieving them. Her drawings weren’t for Jared’s eyes.

  I sprinted at Jared with my head titled forward, aimed directly at his stomach. My hands latched onto his body sending him off balance. One of his feet left the ground and we spun into the desk. I heard my notebook drop to the floor and felt Jared’s fists connecting with my ribs. We grappled with each other before he pushed me off him and we both stood firmly. His massive frame had a long reach and I protected myself by keeping my fists up next to my temples. This time, he charged me, but I side-stepped him. I pushed him from behind lightly and his momentum did the rest of the work by sending him into the wall. As I stood watching, he looked at me. His teeth were pressed together tightly. Red blood vessels swam through his eyes while the veins in his forehead popped. This time when he charged, he didn’t miss. He wrapped me up like a linebacker and tackled me to the floor, his entire body landing on top of mine. The hard tile made me yell in agony before I saw his fist raising behind his ear. I put my hands back in their defensive position and narrowly blocked his haymaker. Had it not been for Dougie, I would’ve most likely ended up in a coma. Dougie ran into the room and tackled Jared off of me before the second wave of punches could be thrown. Lucky followed behind him while Dr. Phillips pulled me up from the floor. She sheltered her arms around me as we walked to the common room. I sat on the couch while more nurses appeared in my room, bringing along with them a gurney that was fashioned with restraints.

  It took them a little while before they reappeared in the hallway with Jared tied down to the gurney. He lay motionless as the nurses guided him down the hall. Dougie and Lucky were the last to leave my room. Both fixed their shirts that had been ruffled in the struggle. Sweat dripped from Lucky’s forehead while Dougie took controlled breaths that made him seem calmer than his counterpart. Dr. Phillips brought me a cup of water.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Went to the bathroom, came back and found him sitting at my desk,” I said.

  “What was he doing?” she asked.

  “Told me he was taking my notebook. Said I didn’t need it anymore and he wanted it, so…” I said, shaking my head.

  “You fought over your notebook?” she asked. “Why didn’t you just come to one of us?”

  “Just snapped, I guess,” I said. “Leighton’s drawings are also in there. I didn’t want to lose any of that stuff.”

  Dr. Phillips smiled at me and titled her head.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I know fighting is never a good thing, but you fought for your work and someone else’s too,” she said.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “It’s progress,” she said.

  “Progress?” I asked. “I’m not in trouble.”

  “No, we know how Jared is. But you? No. I know why you did what you did. And I also know that it says more about you than you may realize,” Dr. Phillips said, still smirking at me the whole time. “You are finding yourself again and don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

  After our chat, I went back to my room. It was in disarray. The desk had been pushed so it no longer rested against the wall. The chair was overturned. My bag was on its side with the contents spilling out. I found my notebook and turned to the folder. Leighton’s drawings were
still there, relatively undamaged as were the rest of the pages. It was a relief. I picked up my bag and threw everything back inside, except for my notebook which I placed neatly on top again. Dougie poked his head through the doorway.

  “Drew?” he asked. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Thanks for saving my ass.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said.

  I started to push the desk back into place, but Dougie stopped me by saying, “Don’t worry about that Drew. We’ll take care of everything.”

  “What about my toiletries and shit?” I asked.

  “Leave ’em. We’ll clear everything out,” he said.

  “Okay, thank you,” I said as I grabbed my bag and walked to the door.

  Over my shoulder, I twisted my head around the room allowing my eyes to see if I’d missed anything for the final time, but nothing revealed itself. I turned back to the door, which Dougie held open with his sneaker. I held my head down as I walked past him and only turned when I heard the door close. Dougie flipped through his keys before picking one and locking the door. Room number 26 no longer belonged to Drew Thomas.

  “Dougie, do you mind if talk to Harlan for a few minutes?” I asked.

  “Please go ahead. Take all the time you need,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  I walked down the hallway and saw Olga sitting outside Harlan’s open door. She sat with her chin resting on her coupled sausage fingers. Her blue scrubs looked uncomfortable and wrinkled like she hadn’t washed them in days. She heard my footsteps approaching and turned her head without lifting it from her entwined phalanges.

  “Morning, Olga,” I said.

  “Hi,” she murmured.

  “Can I see him?” I asked.

  “Yeah, yeah, I heard already. Go in,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Do you mind if I close this?”

  “Yeah, I mind,” she said.

  “Never mind then,” I said.

  I walked into the room and saw Harlan lying in his bed. His eyes were closed, but they opened when he heard my sneakers squeaking against the floor. He sat up. His hair looked greasy and his face looked like it was covered in dry sweat. He hadn’t showered in a few days and I could smell it once he slid the covers off of his body.

  “Sorry, Drew,” he said.

  “Sorry about what?” I asked as I pulled the chair from under his desk over to the edge of the bed.

  “I didn’t mean for you to see that,” he said.

  “It’s okay. How’re you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m fine, man. Just tired right now,” he said and coughed loudly. “What about you? How’re you doing? I heard about Jared.”

  “I’m good. Dougie got there before he kicked the shit out of me,” I said.

  “God, I hope that’s the end of him in this place,” Harlan said.

  “Yeah, well, if so, you’re welcome,” I said with a smile.

  While he chuckled, I looked at the floor where his shoes were. They were bloodstained from toe to heel. I opened my gym bag.

  “What’re you doing?” he asked.

  “I brought you something,” I said.

  I pulled out the pair of moccasins and held them up.

  “They fit me pretty good so they should work for you,” I said.

  “Thanks, Drew,” he said. “You’re leaving today, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m on my way out,” I said as I put the moccasins on the floor next to his stained shoes.

  “Congrats,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  A moment of silence followed as I leaned forward in the chair while he wiped the sweat away from his head with his bandaged hands.

  “Can I ask you something?” I asked.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Well, I was wondering about the last thing you said to me. You said, ‘I like it here’,” I asked him in a whisper so Olga wouldn’t hear. I coupled my hands together anxiously, waiting for a response.

  “How do you mean?” he asked.

  I leaned in closer to keep our conversation inaudible.

  “You want to stay here?” I asked him.

  Harlan sighed and looked down at his hands. He took a few breaths and then he looked at me with a face I cannot forget. It grew long and gaunt. The exterior skin seemed to loosen as if he was telling his muscles not to worry anymore so they could just be instead of positioned a certain way. He licked his lips quickly, wetting them, which minimized the dry skin forming on the corners of his mouth. I could smell his morning breath blowing into my face.

  “I don’t have anyone out there. I know this life. I don’t know that one,” he said, nudging his head towards the window.

  “You ever think about getting out?” I asked.

  “Sometimes, but I’m not ready. I’m not ready to go live on the streets,” he said.

  “You can always call me,” I said, “I’ll leave my number with Dr. Phillips if you’d like.”

  “You don’t need to. I’m a weight. I’m not dragging you down with me,” he said.

  “You’re not a weight,” I said.

  “Yes, I am,” he paused, “I’m not meant to be out there.”

  “You won’t know until you try,” I said.

  “Some of us like not dealing with the consequences of our problems,” he said. “Here, I can deal. Out there is no place for someone like me.”

  I let my head drop so I was staring at my poorly fitted sneakers.

  “Hey, hey,” he said. “Don’t let me bring you down. Go out there and do you, man. I’ll be okay in here,” he said.

  “Can I visit or write?” I asked him.

  “Anytime you’d like,” he said.

  I stood up and Harlan stuck out his bandaged hand. He dangled his fingers towards me. I reached over and grabbed them gently.

  “It was great meeting you,” I said.

  “You too,” he said.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I said.

  “Thanks, Drew,” he said.

  Olga grunted as I walked past her. Her eyes didn’t follow me, but she knew I would still be able to hear her.

  “You guys got me working fourteen-hour shifts, you know that?” she said.

  I stopped for a second. Dougie, who’d been waiting in the hallway for me stopped as well. I didn’t turn my head and instead looked down at the floor.

  “So quit,” I said and started walking again.

  Dougie walked in front of me to the double doors at the end of the hall. With his key ready, he inserted it into the lock and twisted his hand. I heard the lock release and Dougie opened the door. I couldn’t remember what anything looked like past that point. He held the door open for me and I walked past him. I heard the door slam behind me and turned while Dougie pressed the down arrow button on the wall.

  “Glad to be going?” he asked.

  “Feels strange,” I said.

  “Better than coming in though, right?” he asked.

  “Without a doubt,” I smiled.

  The elevator chimed and the doors opened. I walked in with Dougie and he pressed the button reading the number ‘1’. I felt the elevator drop and I quietly thought about Harlan. It was bittersweet leaving, but knowing that he was safe, at least in his own head, helped. I knew the feeling of depression and wanting it to be over. I was glad Harlan didn’t show that to me. He seemed content with where he was. The elevator arrived at the first floor where I saw the elevator waiting area I’d entered on my first day. I walked out and followed Dougie through the double doors that led us back into the hallway where the storage room was. He opened the door and I followed him inside.

  “Thomas, Thomas, where are you?” he said to himself as he ran his hand up and down the cubbies. “Ah, there you are.”

  His hand reached into a cubby and pulled out a plastic box with my name marked on it. He peeled the lid off and I found my belt sitting just as it had been when he
put it in. I grabbed it and secured it around my waist. Dougie handed me my one of my shoelaces and held onto the other.

  “Take your shoes off,” he said and extended his hand, “I’ll do one. You do the other.”

  “Oh, thank you,” I said and gave him my left sneaker.

  We wove the laces in and out of their respective holes like spaghetti. I reached the top of my sneaker at the same time Dougie finished lacing my other one. He gave it back to me and I put them on. The ankle support and tightness fitted my foot well. I tied them loosely and then wiggled my feet with excitement.

  “Never thought I’d be so happy to have these crappy things back,” I said.

  Dougie smiled and looked into the rest of the box.

  “Here you go. Your phone and your wallet,” he said.

  I took both of them and checked to make sure they were exactly as I left them. They were and I put them in my pockets, immediately feeling the strangeness of having anything in them other than a single pack of cigarettes. Dougie next held up several pairs of strings from my gym shorts and sweatshirt.

  “You wanna put them back in now or do it later?” he asked.

  “I’ll do it later. It’s fine,” I said.

  “Okay and lastly, we have the strap to your bag,” he said holding out the long, black Nike strap. I grabbed it and hooked it onto the end of my gym bag. I then let the strap hang off my shoulder as it supported the weight of my belongings.

  “And that’s all,” Dougie said.

  He turned the box towards him and peeled off the tape spelling my last name. He dropped it into the garbage can residing under the desk and smiled at me.

  “Now we can get you outta here,” he said.

  I followed him back down the hallway to the front desk window where I saw Riley and Brock seated in the waiting room. I saw a woman standing at the counter who smiled at me. I hadn’t seen her before. She had curly brown hair and a skinny frame complete with a wide smile.

  “Drew Thomas?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Okay, I just need you to sign these forms,” she said handing me a clipboard holding several discharge papers. A pen dangled off a metallic silver chain attached to the top.

  “Your sister gave me your insurance card, so you’re all good there,” she said as she watched me sign my name at the bottom of the pages. After the final signature, I stuck the pen back in its sheath and looked up.