Free Reverb by J. Cafesin Page B

He’s already attempted suicide at least twice.” John paces the kitchen with the phone to his ear.
    “Since when did you start taking on adults?”
    “Well, he’s not actually my patient. He’s more like a friend.”
    “Sounds like your friend’s in trouble. Were the attempts serious?”
    “Yes.”
    “Were both attempts recent? Possibly a response to critical life changes?”
    “Yes. I believe so. The thing is, I’m afraid he’s going to try again. He’s experienced some major trauma, and I don’t know exactly how to help him.”
    “Bring him in, John. Will he come?”
    “No. I don’t think so.”
    “Well, we can get an ambulance over to you on a 51/50. EMTs can handle him once they’re there.”
    ‘ Or zombify him. ’ John hears Martin in his head. He turns around and continues pacing and almost runs into Martin standing in the kitchen doorway.
    “He wasn’t trying to kill himself, John.”
    “He ate three quarters of a bottle of Valium, Martin. James just ODed.”
    Kate gasps.
    “Yeah, but I don’t think intentionally.” Martin responds to John but looks at Kate.
    John glances at her, her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide in horror. James is right. She shouldn’t be here.
    “John? Is there a problem?” Shelly’s tone is so damn clinical.
    John stands in the center of the kitchen glaring at Martin. “James crossed the line. I can’t just let him walk out of here now.”
    “Don’t get him locked up, John.” Martin stands near the doorway staring at his partner of twenty years with his puppy face on. “At least wait until morning and find out why he took the pills. I spent half an hour talking to him earlier. He’s lucid, John. I’m telling you, James is not crazy.”
    “John?” Shelly’s voice sounds shrill. “Should I send someone?”
    Martin stares at him. “Phillip was locked up, and it didn’t do him any good.”
    Martin’s words cut right to the core of John’s certainty. “At the very least, James is reckless, Martin.”
    “John.” Shelly is speaking to him again. “I can get someone over there in half an hour if you feel it’s warranted. You understand that once he’s in our system you won’t be able to see him for at least forty-eight hours, and only then by professional courtesy.”
    John flashes on James institutionalized, imagines him sedated, blank. If James isn’t suicidal, John may be sentencing him because of his own fears. And once James was ‘in the system’… “Thanks, Shelly. I’ll call you back. Thanks a lot.” John disconnects and holds up the phone for Martin to see. It takes considerable restraint not to throw it at him. Feels as if he’s surrendering a weapon as he put his cell on the butcher block island.
    “You’re doing the right thing. Thank you for trusting me.”
    “I don’t. I just don’t trust myself.” John looks at Kate still standing in the nook by the table, then back at Martin standing a few feet from him. “James is not your entertainment du jour, Martin. This isn’t a Broadway score you two are constructing. You’re playing with his life.”
    “I’m not playing, John. I’m well aware of the gravity here.” Martin sighs, shakes his head and shoves his hands in the pockets of his baggy parachute pants. “You know, locking him up may postpone his death, but it won’t save his life. James has got to want to do that.”
    “ God, I’m so sick of AA platitudes. But you’re right, Martin. James has got to want to live. The problem is, I don’t think he does.”
    “And you can’t stop him if he’s hell bent on killing himself.” Martin delivers his cutting words softly.
    “Excuse me.” Both men look at Kate. “I don’t know if I’m allowed an opinion here—”
    “No.” John glares at her.
    “Yes.” Martin glares at John.
    “Well, I can’t tell you what the right thing to do for your friend is, but I get the feeling if you force him to do something he doesn’t want, well, he’ll run the first chance