Mr. Tan

Chapter 27: A Heart Of Gold

I awoke the next morning to the sound of rain steadily falling outside and a killer hangover. My mouth felt dry and stale, my throat felt like it was on fire. It hurt to open my eyes and turn my head. The clock on my nightstand read 11:04 in the morning and right next to my clock was a tall glass of water, Earl must'v put that there. Everything was dead silent except for the sound of Earl's voice from the front part of the trailer. I slowly eased myself out of bed which made my head swim and I had to steady myself by grabbing onto my dresser drawers, inching myself towards my bedroom door. I stopped and took a look at myself in my vanity mirror, I looked awful. My eyes were puffy and red, my pixie cut hair was pressed to one side of my head and I was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. My sleeveless gown was damp underneath the arms, the front and on the back. I made the mistake of opening my bedroom door because I was damn near blinded by the hallway light. I flinched but squinted and made it all the way to the kitchen where I plopped down into a kitchen chair. The sound of Earl's gruff voice made my ears ring. I watched him pace back and forth in the living room with the cordless phone to his ear. He stopped for a second to take a look at me, then continued pacing and talking. He was already dressed in a gray wife beater and dark grey jeans that were faded and ripped at the knees. I sat at the kitchen table rubbing my eyes and head with my fingers trying to ease away my hangover. After 15 minutes, Earl got off of the phone and joined me in the kitchen. He grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard, filled them with black coffee, put one in front of me and sat down.

"Why'd ya do it?", he asked, after he took a sip of his coffee.

"Do what?", I asked, my voice hoarse and my mouth tasting sour.

"Gulp down dat whiskey like dat and get yo'self all fucked up", he replied. Didn't except to come home from work and find you on da couch layin' in the dark.

"My mamma is dying of AIDS and there ain't a thing I can do about it", I said softly. Clyde is gone up to Jackson and left my mamma to deal with this on her own. I have a little sister that's in the system.

Despite my hangover, I felt the anger boil like a cauldron in the pit of my gut. How could Clyde leave my mom when she needed him, somebody the most?! I thought marriage was suppose to be for better or for worse.

"You think sittin' up here and drinkin' like dat gon' make yo problems go away?", he asked as he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"You do it!", I shot back.

He sat back in his chair and glared at me before he spoke.

"Imma drunk and too goddamn ol' to change dat", he replied. You, you still young and got's a lot to look forward to in life. You ain't gotta be like me and do what I'm doin', I'm beggin' ya not to. Drinkin' may numb the pain fo' awhile but when you sober up, da pain still gonna be there. If you wanna know the cure all fo' all dat pain you feelin' in ya heart and soul, keep singin' and start writin' yo own lyrics. Use dat pain as a tool to do somethin' constructive.