#11 Trip Hazard
Episode 11 of the That Other Flock series
If you haven’t experienced the other episodes in the That Other Flock series, you can find them in the Index. Our characters are connecting the dots episode to episode more than originally planned so you’ll wanna know what’s happened before. Thank’s for reading!
And this episode contains a frank discussion of self-harm. Consider skipping this episode if you are at risk. Of course, always seek professional help in times of crisis.
Leon snatched the donut out of Toby’s hand and threw it across the church kitchen. It was a cream filled. It splattered a smear of powdered sugar and goo down the front of the big stainless steel refrigerator.
What caught my attention were the red veins against the blue-white of his aging eyes. His eyes bulged so much that I could even see veins in that tiny space above his lower eyelids.
His lower lids were holding back a pool of tears. He did one of those the stereotypical sobby hiccups when he pulled in a breath… but it was the veins…the red veins that are stuck in my memory. I can still see them even when I close my eyes. His face was pale, saggy, grey, with a few unruly white whiskers. Those red roads in his eyes were the only color on his face.
Because my brain sometimes short-circuits when I’m emotionally overloaded, I flashed back to the Texaco road maps that my dad used to navigate on family road trips. Our Oldsmobile had an early GPS unit, a TomTom I think, but my dad trusted that origami map. Those jumble of red lines led somewhere…just like Leon’s eyes…without the tears, of course.
I kept thinking about Texaco maps because I really didn’t want to think about Leon. I’m trying not to drink. My right hand was in my empty coat pocket, rummaging around for the bottle that wasn’t there. Instead, I thought about his eyes. My therapist, back when I could afford the luxury of mental health, would appreciate that I noted my avoidance. She was a big on noting things.
Noted.
Leon’s problem seemed like something that required rum to process. I don’t know how to even hear about someone else’s heartache without chemical assistance.
Stupid time to try for sober.
But here I am sober at church for the first time in over a year, nearly two, and there’s more free-range heartache. Please, God, give me a kidney stone or two instead of this. That’s a pretty safe prayer since I’ve proved over and over (and over) that God’s not answering my prayers. They all go straight to celestial voicemail: “It’s the Lord of Hosts. I can’t come to the phone right now, you know what to do! BEEP.”
Sunday morning had started like they all do here. The glorious swelling of the Call to Worship and the big-money great-dentist smiles of the Worship Leader’s Welcome. The “give the person next to you a smile and bless them with your hug” greeting. Big church service. Full-on happy-happy worship. Folksy sermon. The usual mega-church puppet show.
Upstairs in the sanctuary, it’s all shiny blessings, simple answers, and sweet angel farts.
Down here in the kitchen, it’s existential pain, thrown pastry, and unregulated reality.
After Leon’s outburst and pastry toss, no one could figure out where to look or what to do. I observed the donut splatter. I wasn’t alone in avoiding making eye contact with him.
“I stumbled,” Leon rage-muttered. “You know, when you stumble, you put your hands up to catch yourself. That’s all.” Leon couldn’t stop saying this and variations on the theme. Stumble. Hands up. Everyone does that. It wasn’t personal. Certainly not sexual.
I’d like to blame Betty. I mean, she started it by saying, “Leon, you look down. Is everything OK?”
Maybe, without that, Leon would have just eaten his donuts and gone on his less than merry way. But she did. He did. Here we are.
“I stumbled, that’s all.” He said it again. He couldn’t leave it. He was having trouble processing that the Universe had Door Dashed him an overpriced shit sandwich. Sorry ‘bout that, Boomer, it is not what you ordered but it’s what you get. Here’s the bill.
Toby, who, because of his size and shape, I’d spent weeks thinking of as “Jelly,” didn’t know what to do either. He’d made an offhand comment to Leon that sparked Leon’s meltdown and donut tantrum. I’m pretty sure Toby was calculating if Leon would let him grab another donut.
Thankfully, Tommy jumped in to make peace. “Whoa, Leon, slow down. Breathe. Tell us what’s happening.”
Leon turned to Toby and said, “I apologize, Toby. I’m upset.” Toby nodded cautiously and silently mouthed to me over Leon’s head, “No shit.”
Then Leon said, “I work at that big coffee shop downtown. I get just enough hours to have health insurance. Come in at 4 in the morning to start the machines and I never, ever miss. I’m never late, unlike some of them. Fill a shift with no notice. I’m a good worker. There’s 3 or 4 of us who work there for the benefits.” He thought a minute and said, “Well, worked…” His voice trailed off as he stared into the future.
“What happened? Leon, you can tell us,” Betty said.
“They fired me for stumbling.” Leon was oscillating between sadness and rage. “I stumbled over the mat you stand on when you’re working the drive thru. No one pays attention to stuff like that. I’ve told them over and over that it’s not safe.”
“Leon, why would they fire you for stumbling?” Betty was staying with her line of questioning.
“You know how when you stumble, you put your hands out to catch yourself? I did that. Everyone does that. It’s natural. It’s what you do.”
“Leon, what happened after you stumbled?” Brian had taken over the questioning.
“I put my hands up to catch myself. And I grabbed Ellie. It was an accident. I didn’t even know she was there. But I grabbed her breasts…” Leon was slowly shaking his head, clearly remembering. “And I grabbed one of her breasts in each hand. She’s kind of well-endowed and it…”
“Oh shit,” Brian said.
“Yeah, shit,” Eve’s face contorted as she said it. Her usual sarcastic smile slid to pursed lips.
“I held on to them…er…held on to her because I thought she was going to fall.”
“Oh, man.” Tommy said this while rubbing his forehead. “Oh, man, I see where this is going.”
“Yeah,” Leon nodded. “Yeah, she filed a grievance with HR. They fired me for sexual misconduct and harassment. They tried to tell me I was lucky they didn’t treat it as an assault. Yeah, lucky. Lucky me, no job, and no health insurance. And who’s gonna hire me?”
“No one. No one’s going to hire you.” Tommy spoke with the voice of experience.
“I said I was sorry.” Leon said.
“It’s OK, man, I’ll get another one. There’s a bunch of donuts.” Toby answered.
“No, I mean, Ellie,” Leon said. “I said I was sorry for grabbing her…her…for grabbing her. And I asked her to forgive me.”
“I bet that went well,” Eve said, back to her familiar sneer.
“I saw one of my co-workers later in the day at McDonalds. He was whispering to his friend. They both stared and then tried to look like they weren’t staring. I’ve never felt so humiliated.”
Toby put an enormous arm around Leon’s shoulders and gave him a side hug.
From Toby’s embrace, Leon said, “I was fired by a 22-year-old young man who was so embarrassed. He read verbatim from a corporate email…he just read it to me. And then he got upset. I was upset…I ended up telling him it was OK. I’m not sure if he was sad or embarrassed for me. It was like having to hold your executioner’s hand.”
“Oh, Leon, I’m sorry, but you’ll get through this. You’ll find another job.” Betty was trying to put a good spin on things.
“No.” This was the calmest Leon had been all morning. “No. I’ve been knocked down so many times…I don’t think I can get back up. I don’t have the strength. Too tired, too old. Out of time to start over. Really, I’m not sure I even want to get up. It’s not worth it.”
No one had any platitudes to offer him. We exchanged awkward looks, with everyone hoping someone would have the magic words to say.
No one did.
Toby was working hard to eat his donut quietly.
Betty looked at me across our circle. She was making a head gesture and glancing at Leon. She wanted me to say something. I ignored her. What could I say?
After a couple of minutes Toby said, “Leon? Suicide? Is that on your mind?”
“Toby!” Betty nearly shouted. “Of course he isn’t. It’s not that bad, right Leon?”
I said, “Yeah he is. I know that feeling. I know that hopelessness. I’m so sorry, Leon.”
Leon stood there shaking his head, but he wasn’t indicating “no” to what Toby or I had said. He was hearing that young man reading an email firing him for sexual harassment. He was remembering that ex-coworker in McDonalds. The “no” in his mind was about continuing to fight. I could see it. I know it. He’d given up.
Now what?
Tommy said, “Leon, man, you can do this. It’ll work out. There’ll be another job, maybe one with benefits.”
“No.” Leon’s calmness was metastasizing. I know that hollowness. Leon was done.
“You,” Eve said this to me as she bumped my shoulder. “You know how bad things can get. Why haven’t you killed yourself?” Eve said this like it was something normal people say to each other. You know, do you want half and half in your coffee? Sweetener or sugar? Why haven’t you killed yourself?
She gestured at my coat for the rum bottle that’s always there. I patted it and tried to turn it inside out to show my soberness. Unfazed, she pulled one of those little airplane liquor bottles out of the tiny backpack she carries instead of a purse. It was clear so gin or vodka…I hoped for gin. She took a pull and offered to me.
It was vodka. I took the bottle but didn’t drink, yet.
Now everyone was looking at me.
“Leon,” I said. “I understand how hopelessness feels. I understand how embarrassing a public disaster can be.” I took a breath and handed the bottle back to Eve without taking a drink. “I’ve stepped up to the edge of that dark abyss many times. But so far, I’ve stepped away. Maybe I don’t have courage. Maybe it’s because I’m a little afraid of botching the job of killing myself, I mean, talk about the ultimate screw up…can’t even kill yourself successfully.” After thinking for a minute, I pulled the card I keep in my pocket with my lotto ticket. “And every now and then, I call these guys and they help me get through.” I handed him the card of the suicide helpline that I carry. “They know me, tell ‘em I sent you. They’re good people.”
They were all looking at me in complete disbelief. And, in thinking about it, I should have kept my mouth shut.
Brian tried to fix my mess. He said, “Jesus understands. Jesus felt alone, maybe even completely hopeless…I think the night before he was crucified…”
Tommy interrupted, “I’m not sure this is a great connection, Brian. Jesus died, you know? Not where we’re headed with this…”
“Yea, he died,” Brian continued. “But think about the night before. All his followers abandon him. He’s all alone. He’s going to die. That’s why he’s come to earth. And everyone he’s loved abandons him. It’s just him with a bunch of his students who not only don’t understand him but they’re a sleep when he needs them.”
Eve said, “Brian, sure everything’s about Jesus to you, but that doesn’t apply to Leon’s situation. You say Jesus chose to die. He picked his path. Leon didn’t decide to grab that girl’s…ah…he didn’t decide to stumble. That happened to him.”
“Yea, I’m nothing like Jesus. Nothing.” Leon said.
We were silent again, everyone lost in their thoughts.
Eve broke the silence. “Here’s another way you’re not like Jesus. You have friends who care. It’s not a lot. I mean, we’re not impressive, really. But we care about you.” After a moment, she said, “I care. You shook my hand back when I was pretending. You used my name. After I told you, after I told everyone what I was up to. You didn’t leave. You and this guy,” she pointed at me with a dismissive thumb, “Stuck around. I appreciated that. Maybe not a huge deal, but it meant something to me. That hug counted.”
Leon shrugged a shy shrug.
“I’d miss you if you weren’t here,” Eve said with admirable sincerity. No smirk or sarcasm, just her cool brown eyes holding his.
“Leon, I know about trying to get back on your feet after a disaster.” I tried to repair my stupid comments. “Try not to focus on ‘what now’ and work on getting through one day. You feel incrementally worse in the middle of the night. Everything is scarier and more hopeless in the middle of the night. Promise yourself no desperate decisions at 3 in the morning. You have that card.”
Brian smiled and said, “Exactly like Jesus in the garden before he’s crucified.”
“Maybe,” I said. “I haven’t thought about it like that. Let’s not take that too far. Probably. Anyway, Leon, you’re not alone. Sorry, I don’t think we can solve all your problems, or any of your problems, but this group won’t leave you alone.”
“For better or worse, you’re stuck with us.” Toby grinned.
“But what am I going to do?” Leon said. It was easy to imagine the fears colliding in his head. “What happens to me?”
“None of us know,” Tommy said with visible sadness and sympathy. “We walk it out. It’s worth it sometimes. Don’t know about you but my life hasn’t improved, in fact it’s gotten harder lately, but, what has changed is that every week I look forward to this…” Shaking his head, he looked around the kitchen, the donut smeer on the refrigerator door, and our group. “Whatever this is, I look forward to sharing life here. It’s not winning the lottery, but it means something to me.”
“A place to belong counts,” Betty said. “It means something.”
Eve stepped past me and thumped Leon on his chest. She spoke softly enough that I’m not sure the rest of the group heard. “Next week. I need you here. For me.”
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