c. 2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(2-24)
“If I couldn’t three times a day, be allowed to drink my little cup of coffee, in my anguish, I will turn into a shriveled-up roast goat...” – From the ‘Coffee Cantata’ by Johann Sebastian Bach
Friends with good intentions have sometimes repeated the familiar admonition that a drunken mind speaks a sober heart. Yet for this writer, an inverse phrase would be more accurate. Specifically, that a brain running without coffee for fuel has no limit on its ability to opine carelessly, and reveal truths better left unsaid.
Such thoughts appeared recently as I took a telephone call from my friend Janis Mays. This individualistic, feral friend had been hospitalized in Cuyahoga County, after suffering a third stroke last year. Her recovery meant going to a rehab facility near the Cleveland Clinic. Around seven months later, she was transferred to another skilled-care home, in Ashtabula. A venue closer to her own residence by Lake Erie.
I had my morning ration of caffeine perking at the time, a process no longer so speedy since having to replace my BUNN brewpot with a Toastmaster equivalent from Dollar General. The minimalist kitchen-aid had cost $18.00, and immediately manifested a level of functionality equal to that meager price. There were no frills in its design. Therefore, I had to relearn my morning routine, out of necessity.
The new appliance worked well enough, but it did not hurry.
I knew that my friend was calling from a public spot, as her temporary residence in ‘Bula did not feature landline hookups in each room. So, there was extra motivation to answer her call quickly. I had five rings before the cellular connection would go to voicemail. Thumping along with two canes, I made it to the end of my couch where the device was charging, on the last of these electronic blips.
Janis immediately commenced to recite her early-in-the-day activities. These included eating portions of mush that were all unidentifiable individually. Yet the staff assured her that each dollop was some sort of healthy, organic matter. This strict diet was intended to promote healing in her gastric tract. She had limited abilities to swallow, and was constantly warned about the dangers of choking. But regardless of this important medical advice, she had continued to attempt sneaking unapproved treats from the plates of other patients. This contrary nature kept her constantly under surveillance.
Though she made the nurses and their assistants fret with concern, I took it as a good sign. After a long period away from everyday people, she had once again started to behave like her old self. I figured that must mean her return to normalcy lay close at hand.
Our conversation was well underway as I sat in a favorite chair, by the entertainment center in my living room. Yet this lively interaction came with my head still groggy, and belly growling in protest. Not a single sip of my natural starter-fluid had yet been tapped. So, I teetered from subject to subject as we talked, with the weak constitution of a newborn calf. My voice lilted when it should have been strong, and rang out like a schoolhouse bell, when I ought to have whispered instead. This amused my chum as she complained about being bored by her needy confinement.
“I want to go home, Rodbert! They finished all the therapy sessions, I don’t have to throw toy frogs anymore. My last visit got really crazy, because I kept hitting the guy in charge by accident! He snickered and smiled every time as if it didn’t matter. My aim is bad. I still can’t see straight!”
I wasn’t fully awake. Thus, her confession about the replicated amphibians sounded oddly surreal. I shook my head while listening.
“You weren’t restrained for assaulting a team member?”
Janis chortled loudly at my numb comment.
“Of course not, jackass! It was playtime, but also an exercise for hand-eye coordination. I wanted to go outside with the other inmates though, and have a ciggie! Screw their kiddo games! I’m good enough to get released!”
I was flustered at her report of some being allowed to take cigarette breaks in the courtyard.
“They let residents light up, outside? Damn! What a surprise!”
She huffed at my prudish disbelief.
“Anyway, it’s supposed to be warmer in the afternoon. Maybe I can slip out then, my first roomie still tries to help. That’s why we were split up, she got caught! The women here are like prison guards! They have a thing about authority. It’s weird, really weird!”
I tried to change the subject so she would forget about wanting to escape.
“I saw Ellen Piqua at our old store on South Broadway, while picking up prescriptions. She asked how you were doing and rambled on about job hunting. I thought by now she would have given up on that kind of pursuit. That woman has to be ten years older than I am, and comfortable financially. Yet I figure it’s hard to get off the merry-go-round. Not for you or me though, we’re both done chasing a paycheck...”
My cohort giggled and snorted while changing hands with the telephone receiver.
“I DON’T WANNA BE DONE! BUT I CAN’T DRIVE ANYMORE! IT SUCKS MAN, IT REALLY DOES! I NEED MONEY FOR POLAR POPS AND MENTHOL SMOKES! AND I WANT TO HIT A CHINESE BUFFET! OR TACO BELL!”
The lack of liquid motivation in my system showed its effects as I tumbled into delivering an unsolicited confession. No guardrails kept me from ranting. Before I could bite my tongue, it began to wag furiously, with canine intensity.
“See there’s the deal. I used to get out of bed every day, and immediately hear the clock ticking. Coffee, shower, drive to work, get on my knees and obey. Obey, obey, obey! It never stopped right up until the end, when I got a final trip to the front door. I saw my management career crash three times, after a company sale. When that ragged routine had finished, I was older and physically spent, and not so attractive as a candidate for hiring. I ended up broke and crawling through every month. But you know what else happened? I realized that the ball and chain was off my leg. There was no dog collar around my neck, anymore. No leash to make me behave, or a whip on my back. Seeing the morning sun felt different, because that glow in the sky said ‘This is your time to shine!’ How about that? I hadn’t been so free since being a teenager. Bouncing from here to there, staying with friends, surviving by my wits and the grace of God. For the first time in years, I felt truly alive! It was something I had forgotten, while running in the rat race...”
Janis pretended to snore. Apparently, my impulsive declaration had sapped her patience.
“Go drink your pot of mud, weirdo! I’ll call again after lunch sometime, and today’s episode of General Hospital. They let me have a Keebler Fudge Round yesterday, maybe I can talk them into a Pop Tart for dessert. I’m sick of the sloppy blender crap!”
My face was burning from chemical depravation. I heard the line go dead before getting up from my chair. She did not have any filter on her mouth, or social sensibilities.
“Peace out, Ms. Mays!”
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