Free The Drunk Logs by Steven Kuhn Page B

all.”
    “Hey, it’s almost lunch, you guys, we better get going,” Sam said as he stood and giggled.
    As we walked toward the building, I noticed Victoria still sat at the picnic table.
    “Hey, Victoria, aren’t you coming?” I said with a smile.
    “I can’t, the men and women eat separately…do you always ask questions?” she said and returned the smile.
    “I’m sorry…do I?” I teased.
    How stupid that was , I thought. I was acting like a 16-year-old and I was almost 40.
    As we stood in the cafeteria line, I breathed through my mouth, a precaution I believed would help me not to feel ill. But the lunch ladies, who wore food-stained white aprons and hairnets, did not help.
    The menu said hamburger and french-fries. “Good, at least I’ll be able to eat with two hands, so no one will see the shaking,” I whispered to no one.
    I followed Bobby, who loaded up his plate with everything and anything that would fit on his tray. Two hamburgers, extra fries, applesauce, cake square, and then it was off to the salad bar, where he grabbed a plastic bowl and put in a little salad, a mound of shredded cheddar cheese, jalapeno peppers, sliced eggs, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, and three packets of light vinaigrette . If the smell didn’t make me nauseous, the barrel of food in front of me would have , I thought.
    “Hey, come on. The guys are over here.” Bobby said as he walked over to a table with Jack Jack, Sam, and Father Tom.
    “Where’s your diet coke, Bobby?” Jack Jack joked.
    “I’m not drinking that stuff. It gives you stomach cancer.”
    As I placed my food in front me I realized that the time had come, I needed to stop worrying about my tremors and eat something. So with determination, I picked up the burger and raised it to my mouth; my hands only shook slightly. I took a quick, small bite, swallowed, and wondered how my stomach would handle the invasion of this foreign substance. But nothing happened, except for a little rumble that came from somewhere deep . My stomach must have been overjoyed from seeing food again , I thought. So, I kept eating and dipped a fry into some ketchup for a treat.
    “Well, nothing really happened you know,” Jack Jack blurted. “The same old B.S. he always lectures about.”
    That was the moment I noticed that Jack Jack had become irritated that no one had bothered to ask him what happened with Dr. Lyedecker. Maybe he wasn’t this strong, independent, full of life type of person he portrayed himself to be. Maybe, he was just like the rest of us.
    He looked around to see if anyone paid attention, but we all kept eating. The frustration seemed to set in deeper as he tightened his lips. He stood from the table and glared around for even one acknowledgement, but got none.
    “I’m going to get an ice cream, anybody want anything?” he said as he looked for a response, but everyone just shook their heads no. In his annoyance, he pushed his chair with so much force that it struck the chair behind him, and he walked away.
    “That boy is such a baby sometimes,” Sam said as he chewed on his salad, eyes half shut.
    “So, what is the daily schedule around here?” I inquired, as the sound of Jack Jack telling his story to a patient echoed in the distance.
    “Well, in the folder that you got when you came in, there’s an outline of all the classes and events that are offered. The bold print is for the ones you have to go to, the regular you don’t, it’s up to you,” Bobby said as he packed the food into his cheeks. “Like, after lunch, there is a break of about 15 minutes, then there’s a lecture where they usually show a movie talking about addiction and how you can prevent it. If you ask me, it’s stupid to show a movie after you just ate, because half the people fall asleep in the lecture. So what’s the point?”
    I put down my half-eaten hamburger; my stomach had had enough.
    “Just go in your folder and pull out the schedule and it will tell you