Julian

IV. April, Ch. 50

     Calvin's muscles were stretched tense like rubber bands. His head and stomach played different instruments at once, and the music sounded horrible.

     While the inside walls of his skull squeezed his brain like an orange half, his stomach ached in its own emptiness.

     Nothing could take this misery away, except a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich with mayo and Tabasco sauce.

     He didn't even think he could finish the bourbon, but it was the only thing left in the mini bar once the vodka was gone.

     Calvin's body was spread out on the living room floor. His throbbing head rested on a throw pillow.

     Any moment now, he'd remember. She always came to mind first thing in the morning.

     Having not seen Genevieve in days, her imaginary photograph was beginning to fade.

     The sound of an obnoxiously loud phone interrupted his thoughts.

     He groaned.

     Roger's voice stopped the ringing. "Hello?—He's still asleep.—Okay, one second."

     Calvin felt the vibration of Roger's footsteps traveling across the floor. Go away, Marlo. I want nothing to do with Julian anymore.

     Roger's hand shook his shoulder. "Wake up, Cal. Marlo's on the phone."

     His whisper was more obnoxious than the phone. "Ugh, no."

     "You can't ignore his calls forever."

     He kept his eyes shut. "Go. Away."

     Roger walked back to the kitchen. "He's fast asleep.—Yes, he knows it's urgent."

     Calvin knew it was silly, but he was insulted hearing Roger and Marlo talk about him as if he wasn't there. The anger only made his headache worse.

     "I'll remind him again," said Roger. "You're welcome. Bye."

     Roger hung up the phone. He made his way back to the living room. "Get up. It's almost eleven."

     Calvin lifted his head off the pillow and opened his eyes. His tone carried nothing but expletives. "Don't you have work?"

     "It's Sunday."

     He made a squiggle of his upper lip. "Already?"

     "Yes. Get up."

     He got to his feet carefully, as to not have his head spin off his body like a loose screw.

     After grabbing a clean glass from the kitchen cupboard, he opened the fridge, and poured himself a glass of icy Tang.

     Roger watched him as he brought a used coffee mug to the sink. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

     Calvin was nearing the end of his patience. He was hungover, broken-hearted, and unemployed. Why couldn't Roger be happy that he wasn't in the same shoes? "I'm not in the mood."

     "Well, get in the mood," said Roger. "You used to be committed and disciplined, perhaps the most disciplined person I knew, but you've become this lazy, sad drunk."