Chapter 7

November came and Mike disappeared, thirty days clean, and nowhere to be found!  I beeped him! It was the night before Amy's tenth birthday, he had to be in drivers school ten a.m. the next morning.  He didn't call.  I beeped 911, I love you (143), and I beeped my code, thinking he knows I am worried he could call to let me know he is okay.  He called me at nine-thirty the next morning. 

     "I stayed up all night so I wouldn't miss the class."  His voice cracking as he spoke.  "Where is the class being held mom?"  He asked.  

     I told him and he said he would go to class, get Amy's gift, and would be home. 

     His dad and I knew there was only one thing that would keep him up all night!  How could he be clean for four weeks and then relapse?  We didn't understand!  Mike didn't show up for Amy's birthday party, I was trying to be happy for Amy, while I was worried sick for Mike.  I called my brother Tom, and asked him to beep Mike, they were close, and maybe he would call Tom back.  He did! 

     He told Tom he had been out with this girl he picked up in a bar, she wanted drugs.  He took her to get them and they partied until they ran out and went looking for more.  While they were in the "neighborhood," trying to find a good deal, someone took a brick and threw it at them.  The brick hit the passenger side right between the two doors.  It was thrown with such force, it dented the post between both doors and the door window was smashed.  If that brick had gone through the window it would have killed or hurt the passenger.  He was afraid to come home; this was the second incident where something happened to a car. 

     Tom told him to go home, "Your mom and dad love you, they don't care about the car, sure they'll be upset but they just care that you're alright, so go home."  Tom asked him again. Mike didn't come home; instead he went to Tom's.  That's where I found him later that night.  He said he was an a*****e, a stupid idiot, he could not face his dad, and he would spend the night with Tom. 

     His dad said, "If he won't come home with you give the car keys to Tom, do not let Mike leave there, Tom can bring him home tomorrow." 

     I patiently told Mike,  "I love you.  You screwed up yes, but that's why they call it an addiction." 

     He stammered, "I went to the driver's school but when they gave us our fifteen minute break I left to get more crack and didn't make it back." 

     So he not only relapsed, he now would lose his license. 

     We talked about how people can't kick an addiction all alone, he needed help, and he was not the only one who did.  It was a weakness, yes, but asking for help took guts. 

     I'd never seen Mike hide from his problems before.  He had always "faced the music" before.  This wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.

     Sunday he came home with his head hung low.  His dad put his arm around him saying, "This drug is controlling you, we will help you in anyway we can.  We're behind you one hundred percent.  Put this behind you. Today is the first day of the rest of your life!" 

     Tuesday he had to go to PTI, he didn't want to, I told him to face it, admit it and continue on.  He didn't know what they would do to him, would they throw him in jail or what. 

     In court we had heard the PTI reports of every case that was heard.  Many had positive reports at least once; they said you had to have twelve negative reports before your case would be dismissed.  This made him feel a little better about it.  He'd heard that herbal tea would get the drug out of your system quicker, so he drank about a gallon of the most awful tea he'd ever tasted.  It didn't work, he went in, gave them his urine specimen, and two seconds later they told him he was dirty. 

     He had to go to court and see what was going to happen.  His court date was two weeks away. 

     He went to drug treatment and admitted he was dirty. They told him as long as he was truthful with them they would work with him.  It's an addiction; just try to stay away from it. 

     The next weekend Amy was being installed as an alter server at our church.  This was something very important in her life and she wanted her whole family there.  It was a very proud moment in her life; she had chosen to serve God.  There was a picnic after the ceremony given by the Men’s group for the newly installed alter servers and there families.  I had to pick up grandma, who lived fifteen miles away, doesn't sound like much but it is an hour round trip. 

     I had let Mike take the car to drug treatment on Friday, he was due home at 7:10 he got home at 7:30, and he was agitated and rushed.  He walked in, went to his room, came out with his bike and left.  He didn't come home that night; we didn't hear from him on Saturday, how could he do this to his sister.  He missed her birthday now he was going to let her down again.  Amy loves her brother very much.  She's in heaven when he wants to be with her.  She is eleven years younger than him, but over the last year they have gotten close. 

     Sunday morning I awoke early, I have to find him!  By nine o'clock I was on my way.  We went by the office to see if he was there, sleeping in the wrecker, where do you go on a bike?  He's not there.  As we're leaving, here he comes riding towards us, he pulls up to us, he doesn't look high, I look in his eyes, is he or isn't he?  I asked him to put his bike in the back and let's go home.  Your sister wants you to be there for her today.  He says's he'll ride his bike home, he'll be there by the time I get back from grandmas.  This isn't setting right with me and again I say put your bike in the back and get in.  No I'll see you at home in an hour, I'll be there, but take this road home just in case, then you'll see me, I don't want to ride up to grandma's, I'll be there, you can count on me. 

     "You promise Mike, I don't feel right about this?"  I questioned.

     "I promise mom, I'll be there!"  He promised. 

     So I left, loving Mike, trusting Mike, counting on Mike.  I got grandma, took the same roads back, I didn't see him anywhere, I got home, he wasn't there! 

     "I'll go find him,” said his dad.  Amy's little heart was broken, her brother wasn't going to be there, and now her daddy wasn't going to be there either. 

     She handled it like a trooper.  All the other kid's had their whole families there; she just had mom, grandma and her best friend Kirby.  After the ceremony I didn't want to go to the picnic, I wanted to go see if he was home yet, how could I have had him and let him go?  But Amy had been disappointed enough this morning, I tried to put on a happy face for her and let her enjoy the party, while I was dying a thousands deaths inside. 

     I was scared of this drug by now!  I was angry that this could take hold of my son and control him to the extent that he would hurt his whole family, for what?  What kind of high would make you do this to your family?  His dad looked and looked but couldn't find him.  When I got home he was there, he said he got there a few minutes after we had left, this family was going in all different directions. 

     My anger turned to jelly when I looked at his painful, shameful, expression that was replacing his happy self.  I still told him he was grounded, twenty-one or not you’re grounded.  How can I help?  Some one please tell me, how can I help.  

     Thanksgiving was fast approaching; I wondered if we would all be together, I prayed that we would. 

     Thanksgiving came, Mike was alright he hadn't relapsed, but Big Mike and I were not getting along at all.  Working together in a business that we built from the ground up, was very difficult.  We were together day and night, making decisions, compromising, arguing our different viewpoints.  Little Mike did not like to see us fight; we had been together twenty-four years, for better or worse.  Little Mike saw every stage our relationship went through.  He knew that we always kissed and made up.  Still when we fought, he thought it was the end, it got him very upset.

     We had a big Thanksgiving dinner, Mom and Tom came over.  While Mom helped me prepare the dinner, Mike, Tom and Amy fished in the canal.  It was a beautiful cool fall day. The kind of day where you kick back and enjoy Florida life.

     Mike had to go to PTI the first week in December.  Mike worked on his car, he wanted to be able to feel in control, he wanted to go out and not relapse, not because we were taking him everywhere he had to go, but because he was controlling the situation. 

     His car was an 87 Pontiac Firebird; we had sold it to him, then when he passed his GED, we gave it to him.  He had paid one thousand dollars.  We figured the car was worth four thousand, so Mike got a three thousand dollar graduation gift.  The car was his baby.  It was hot, and fast.  I think he supported Broward County Sheriffs Department he got so many tickets! 

     So he got it running, he was happy, we were apprehensive, to say the least.  For a couple weeks he did fine.  He made it through PTI clean and continued to control the urge he felt for this incredibly addictive drug. 

     We were trying to get ready for Christmas; the church had a tree lighting ceremony after mass to celebrate the beginning of Advent (the Christmas season).  I usually put our tree up December first, but with all the turmoil in the family I didn't feel very much like Christmas. 

     Mikes car had broken down again so he borrowed his dad’s car to go to drug treatment.  Once again he didn't come home.  Once again we started beeping him, 911, our personal codes, I love you (143) he didn't return our calls.  I picked up Tom to go looking for him; we went in neighborhoods that looked like someplace out of a bad movie.  People on these streets approached cars going by, "what you need?" they asked. 

     Tom said "Peggy get the hell out of here, don’t look at them” It was an “experience” that's for sure.  We looked for at least two hours and didn't see a sign of him.  I dropped Tom off at the office and asked him to beep Mike.  He did, but he got no response.  When Tom got home he tried again, this time some black guy called him back.

     Tom said, "Where is Mike?"

     "Mikes in jail, he said I could use his beeper, he's coming back to get it though, later." The voice on the phone replied. 

     Tom called me scared to death, "Some black guy has Mikes beeper, he says Mike let him borrow it, he says Mike's in jail" 

     Tom was scared and so was I.  I called the county jail to see if he was there, they said he could be, but he was not on their computer yet.  It could take from two to six hours to find out.  I didn't know where to turn, this was happening all too frequently, it seemed I never knew where to turn.  I went to the jail, and told the person there what had happened, she was sympathetic, and she said I should check Fort Lauderdale jail.  I went there and told them the same story; they said check the county jail. 

     "I've just come from there,” I cried. 

     "Then maybe you should check the hospitals!"  The clerk stammered.

     We chased down a Cadillac that looked like big Mikes, but it wasn't.  We went home and started calling hospitals, nothing!  We called tow companies, to see if the car had been impounded, it hadn't.  So the car wasn't impounded, Mike wasn't in jail; only his beeper was not with him. 

     Big Mike went to a pay phone and beeped this guy, he called back, he thought big Mike was little Mike and said, "you want your beeper back, and it’ll cost you twenty." 

     Big Mike asked, "Where are you?" 

     "I'm on the block man.  What are you driving?"  The voice wanted to know.

      Big Mike said he was driving the red car and named the road he thought was the block. 

     The guy said, "Yeah that's where I'll be." 

     We never found him that night.  The next day was a weekday and Mike didn't show up to treatment, well we assumed he didn't show up. We went by when he was supposed to be there and the car wasn't there.  Treatment, like I said earlier, wouldn't say! 

     I couldn't believe he would take his dad's car and leave him stranded.  He had to know he was in really big trouble!  He had to know his dad was vehemently pissed!  This was not the Mike I knew! 

     As, what was getting to be the usual, he showed up on the third day.  He snuck in, in the middle of the night and went and hid in his room.  We were thoroughly disgusted; we didn't want to look at him as much as he didn't want us to.  

Author's Note

Reviewers please do I scrap it or rewrite it?