A church basement. Upstairs is for those who fear going to hell. Downstairs is for those who’ve already been there. At least that’s what some people say.
After the meeting, Professor Tom stood with some members, laughing at the absurdity of the drinking life and the miracle of getting to live a sober life. JJ waited near the exit door, nervous, feeling he was lying in ambush. The meeting was good, his third since returning from Colorado. Lila was at the Al-anon meeting down the hall, her third since the return, too. It was early, but so far, so good. He hadn’t seen his old sponsor yet and was resolved to clean things up and get back to recovery work.
“I’m glad you waited,” Tom said as he approached JJ at the door. JJ put an awkward hand out but Tom brushed past it and embraced JJ. “Some never come back,” he said next to JJ’s head.
“I’m back for good,” JJ said.
“Or just for today.”
JJ smiled. “Yeah, just for today. A daily reprieve, right?”
“Based on the maintenance of our spiritual condition.”
“Yeah, about that. I need to get back to work on the steps.”
“Listen,” Tom said. “I’m really glad you’re here, but I can’t sponsor you anymore. I’ve got three other guys and I can’t take time from them.”
“Oh,” JJ said and tried to disguise his disappointment. It was one of those moments, so common for him, when the path forward looked straight and clear, but then the world was revealed as more complex and contrary than assumed. He felt like a child discovering that all that stuff- the house, the car, the water(!)- actually cost money. There was always a price to be paid.
“What I can do is introduce you to a few guys.”
“That would be good.”
“Marty,” Tom called across the room. “C’mere for a minute.”
A guy, younger than Tom, closer to JJ’s age, broke off from another group of people and came over.
“This is Jason,” Tom said. “He just got back from…”
“Out there,” JJ finished, gesturing with his thumb out the window. “And Colorado.”
“Oh yeah? Welcome back,” Marty said, and they shook hands. “I lived there for seven years. The greatest and worst times of my life.”
“Yeah, man,” Marty said. “Listen, a few of us are going to get coffee. You’re welcome to come.”
Once again, a fork in the road. Take the easy way and scurry home to comfort with a residue of shame and self-loathing? Or go out and brave the company of actual people who are trying to do better?
“Last suggestion,” Professor Tom said. “Discard that first instinct. That’s usually your disease.”
He was right, of course. That’s the thing about these sober people, at least the ones who actually work it. They’re always fucking right.
“All right,” JJ said. “I’ll go. I just have to tell my girlfriend.”
“Great,” said Marty. “We’ll meet you in the parking lot.”