—
TWO HOURS AFTER arriving at Central, the three left with Gordy. Since Zola didn’t own a car, and since Mark’s Bronco could not be trusted in traffic, they piled into Todd’s Kia hatchback and made their way to the city’s car lot in Anacostia near the naval yard. Gordy rode in the rear seat next to Zola with his eyes closed and said nothing. Indeed, there was little conversation, though there was much to be said. Mark wanted to get it all on the table with something like “Well, now, Gordy, are you even remotely aware of what a DUI will do to your already miserable employment opportunities?” Or, “So, Gordy, do you realize that, even assuming you pass the bar exam, you’ll find it virtually impossible to get admitted to the bar because of a DUI?”
Todd wanted to drill him with something like “So, Gordy, where, exactly, were you headed at four in the morning with two empty tequila bottles on the floorboard?”
Zola, far more compassionate, wanted to ask, “Who is your doctor and how soon can you see him?”
So much to say, but nothing was said. At the car lot, Mark handled the negotiations with the clerk. He explained that Mr. Tanner was ill and unable to function at the moment.
Probably still drunk, the clerk thought, which was not at all unusual.
Mark forked over $200, half of which came from Gordy’s wallet, and signed the necessary forms. They left with Todd driving Zola to work, and Mark driving Gordy in his Mazda.
As they inched along in city traffic, Mark said, “Wake up, Gordy, and talk to me.”
“What do you want?” he mumbled without opening his eyes. He reeked of alcohol and body odor.
“I want to know who your doctor is and where his office is located. That’s where we’re going right now.”
“No, we’re not. I don’t have a doctor.”
“Well, you damned sure need one. Come on, Gordy, stop lying. We know about the bipolar disorder and the doctor or therapist or whoever you’re seeing. It’s obvious to us that you’re off your meds and you need help.”
“Who told you this?”
“Zola.”
“That bitch.”
“Come on, Gordy, lay off. If you don’t tell me right now who your doctor is I’m going to call your parents and Brenda.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“Great, let’s stop the car and have a knife fight.”
Gordy took a deep breath and shuddered from head to toe. He opened his eyes, looked out the window, and said, “Please stop yelling at me, Mark. I’ve had a bad night.”
“Okay, I’ll stop yelling, but you’ve got to get some help, Gordy.”
“Please take me home.”
“To Martinsburg. I like that idea.”
“Oh, hell no, not there. I’d blow my brains out, which is not a bad idea these days.”
“Stop it, Gordy. Let’s go to your apartment, where you can take a nice, long shower. Then maybe a nap. We’ll get something to eat, and then I’ll drive you to the doctor.”
“The nap sounds good. Nothing else.”
A moment later, Mark realized his friend was wiping tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand.
6
When Gordy fell onto his bed he told Mark to leave. Mark explained that was not going to happen and they argued briefly. Gordy gave up, pulled a blanket over his head, and fell asleep. Mark closed the bedroom door, sat on the sofa, and stared at his phone. Brenda had called him twice that morning and was panicked. Her rambling voice mails and text messages were increasingly urgent. She had not heard from her fiancé in two days and she was ready to drive to D.C. On the one hand, Mark almost welcomed her intervention. She needed to know what was happening. She could assume control of the situation and take the pressure off Mark and the others. She would probably get his parents involved, and at the moment they were needed.
But, on the other hand, she could make a bad situation worse. No one could predict how Gordy might react if she showed up and started barking. He would certainly yell at Mark for telling her the truth. The last thing Gordy needed at the moment was more drama.
Mark stepped into the hallway and called Brenda. He lied and said Gordy was suffering from a nasty bout of the flu, that he was in bed, still highly contagious, and getting plenty of fluids and flu medicine. Mark and Todd were sitting with him, nursing him, and things were under control. If there was no improvement by tomorrow, Mark promised to take him to the doctor. Did she happen to know the name of his doctor? No, she did not. He would call her with updates as things progressed. When the call ended, Brenda was still concerned and said she would wait a day or so before driving over.
Mark walked up and down the hallway, feeling like a creep for lying and thoroughly confused about what to do next. Several times he almost called her back to tell the truth. If he did so, she would be there within two hours and Gordy would be hers to worry about. She knew him better than anyone. They had been a couple since the seventh grade. Mark had known Gordy for only two and a half years. Who was he to assume the role of Johnny-come-lately and get involved in their problems? Gordy needed medical attention, and perhaps his fiancée was the only person who could make that happen.
However, if Brenda arrived on the scene now, things could spiral out of control. She would hear about the DUI. She knew Mark and Todd and would resent their cover-up. She might learn the truth about Zola, a possibility that was too awful to think about. In the chaos, she might realize that Gordy was lying about a nice job after graduation. The situation would become so unpredictable that everyone would get hurt, especially Gordy. Most important, Gordy didn’t want Brenda anywhere near him. He wanted to call off the wedding, but so far had not found the guts to break up.
The more Mark paced, the more confused he became. Procrastination seemed like a safe strategy, at least for the moment, and he decided to stick with the lie and see how the afternoon unfolded.