“I need my dad.” The words tumble out of my mouth, shaky and embarrassing. What grown-ass man calls for his daddy? Me, apparently.
She turns me around so I can see him standing there in the parking lot with Dr. Gordon. “Dad,” I call out weakly, my voice nothing like it should be. God, I feel pitiful.
He waves and tells me he’ll see me later, which, oddly enough, gives me a sense of calm. Before she can turn me back around, I slap at my legs and my arms, batting at the bugs around my head.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“The bugs. They’re buzzing everywhere.”
“There are no bugs, Bodhi,” she says, pushing me faster toward the door. “You’re hallucinating.”
“I’m what?”
“It’s part of the detox,” she says, maneuvering me into the building. “You’re seeing and even sensing things that aren’t there. Addiction is hard to combat, and your body enjoys the feeling too much to let it go, so it creates this realm to make you think something is wrong. Your body wants the drugs, and you want to make the hallucinations go away. Your body wins when you feed it. You lose because now your addiction is worse.”
“I don’t think I needed to know all of that.”
“Right.” She continues to push me down the hall, saying hi to the people passing by. “Here at Serenity Springs everything is laid back and you move at your own pace. Chores are assigned daily, and as long as things get done by the end of the day, my dad or Dr. Rosenberg won’t say much. This is a stress-free environment, and the staff is here to help you overcome whatever it is that brought you here.”
“Coke,” I blurt out.
“Okay, so you’re addicted to coke. We can help you with that.” She continues pushing me down the hall, not bothered by the
fact that I have a problem. Why should she be? Celebrity addiction problems are probably a dime a dozen.
We stop at a window that opens up to an office. A man comes over to greet her, and she hands him my bag over the counter.
“Everything gets checked before we put it in your room. Any mail you receive will also come through here to make sure your friends aren’t trying to hurt your recovery.”
I don’t say anything. The only person who would sneak me some contraband would be Aspen, and because my dad took my cellphone from me, I can’t even tell her where I am.
“You should know that there are no felons here or anyone with a criminal record. Everyone is here of their own accord and is free to leave when they want. You can also stay past thirty days if you’re not ready to leave.”
“Do people stay?”
She nods without turning around. “Yes, a few stay longer, and some return when their demons come back to haunt them. We have an open-door policy here.” We go down another hallway, and then Kim opens a door, flipping on the light switch and pushing me into the room. I look around the stark room with its four white walls and a bed with a nightstand. Nothing else.
Kimberly steps in front of me and sits on my bed, leaving me nothing to look at except her. She brightens this room like a piece of commissioned art, and I’m struck by how beautiful and flawless she is. Her eyes are just as blue as mine, if not brighter, and when she talks, her face lights up as if every word she’s saying is the happiest one she’s ever heard.
“This will be your room. You have a session with Dr. Rosenberg at five, dinner at six, and lights-out at ten.”
I wonder what I’ll do after my session and before bed. It’s the downtime that will get me in trouble.
“I’ll come get you and take you over to dinner tonight,” she continues. “Before your session with Dr. Rosenberg, we’ll take a quick tour and go over the rules.”
“Right, the rules.”
Kimberly places her hand on my arm, and it burns where she’s touching me. It takes me a moment to register the feeling as something good. “Bodhi, we’re here to help. If you’re bored and need someone to talk to, there is someone always available.”
“Even you?” I venture.
“Even me. I’ll let you rest now. Dr. Rosenberg will come here to your room for the initial meeting. Do you need help out of the wheelchair?”
Any manhood I have left is suddenly gone when she asks about the chair. I want to crawl inside myself and die. I shake my head, telling her no. She stands, and as she brushes by me, her hip bumps into my chair.
“Wait, Kim.” I reach out and grab her hand, keeping her in my room a bit longer. “What about my dad?”
“I’m sure he’ll be in to say goodbye. My dad will show him where you are.” With that she leaves, closing my door behind her. I’m tempted to twist the knob and see if the door opens again, but I know deep down my dad wouldn’t send me to a place that locks me in my room. Would he?