NAOMI had no complications. She was discharged a day after her labour. The baby is a troublesome baby. She cries when she's not sleeping or eating. Day, night, midnight — the baby cries. On the day the baby is four days old, Gavin and Naomi took her to the hospital.
"Doc, she won't stop crying." Naomi laments.
"Are you feeding her well?" The doctor asks.
"The exclusive breastfeeding technique, in fact. No matter how much she's fed, once she's no longer fed, she just cries. She sleeps, wakes and continues crying. I've not had a proper sleep since I was discharged from the hospital."
"I testify to that." Gavin interjects. "I never get some sleep when I'm at home too. It's always a loud cry straining my ears."
The doctor grins. "Some babies find it quite arduous blending to their environment when they are born. She is familiarized with having some quiet and alone time in the womb. She will come around. Give her time."
Naomi and Gavin went back home unconvinced. The baby didn't come around. Initially, Gavin was happy about her birth because he felt he has something exciting in his life after long. However, after a week of her fervent cries, Gavin started imagining how amazing things would have been if his sister and parents were alive. He'd suppose his parents would have known what to do to the baby in order to stop the cries.
He's frustrated. Only a week into fatherhood and he's started re-evaluation of having more than one child. He decides he won't go home immediately after work today. His mind is too conflicted to start dealing with the baby's stress. Greg has been an amazing uncle.
I should sit myself in a bar to think. Greg will help Naomi with the baby. Greg is good with babies. He has been superb with her.
Gavin visits a nearby bar after he closed from work.
In the bar, he sits—his face in his palms, neck tilted. He meditates. He loves his wife and newborn baby. He adores them. But he's currently a mess. He's engulfed in this phase. He wishes he could go somewhere alone for weeks and just absorb the pain for as long as it is overwhelming. But he can't leave his wife and brother. They need one another now. Everything has happened so fast. He wishes his daughter would have come later — when he has started outgrowing the pain. She's come too early into his sadness phase and he can't even supply attention to any creature in his present state of mind.
"Stop over to drink, not to think." A voice speaks behind Gavin.
Gavin lifts his neck to view the intruder. He feels his thoughts are being interrupted, his privacy—private time—intruded. He observes the man is wearing an apron. Beneath the apron is a white long-sleeved shirt neatly tucked in ironed black trousers. Gavin doesn't need a messiah to tell him the intruder works in the bar.
"Sorry?" Gavin responds after flipping his eyes through the man's body from head to toe.
"Our motto. That's our motto." The man responds.
"And your role here is?"
"I'm the bartender. Call me Reff. I see you are brooding. That's a taboo in here. We have drinks that clear sorrows."
"Oh," Gavin scoffs. "Are those sorrow-free drinks branded?"
"Hmm. I will let you in on a secret, because you are a first-timer." Reff lowers his mouth to Gavin's ears. "Reff's wreck is the best drink we sell here."
"Reff's wreck?" Gavin grins. "Why that name?"
"It's my recipe. That's the reason for Reff. The wreck in front of it signifies that you will get intoxicated for sure. On top of all that, it tastes sensational!"
"Mm hmmm," Gavin nods. "Good marketing skills you've got going on. I will have one, please. Let me see if my troubles will be really drowned." Gavin twitches his brows.
"Be right back." Reff assures as he walks away.
Reff returns, after a few minutes, with a glass of drink. The booze exhibits two colours—blue from the base to the middle, yellow from the middle to the top. At the tip of the cup is a triangular cut of pineapple with, its thin end grazing the inner and outer edges of the cup and, its bigger base hanging over the glass. There are ice cubes inside the cup and a spiral straw that's slightly higher than the pineapple cut.
"This looks chic."
"It tastes better." Reff smiles.
"You are sure the alcohol content in this alluring sight is enough to wreck me?"
"Ah. A trial will convince you," Reff giggles. "Enjoy your drink." Reff walks away.
Gavin sips the drink through the straw. He's intrigued. He gulps the whole content of the cup. He belches. To his surprise, he realizes his thoughts are gradually obscuring. He walks to the counter and sits on a high stool. He sees Reff—with his back turned—rearranging bottles, on a shelf, at the opposite side of the counter.
"Reff!" He shouts so he will be heard over the loud music.
Reff turns to face where the voice called him from. He smiles when he realizes it's Gavin whom called him. He moves towards the counter.
"Good reviews, isn't it?" Reff smiles.
"Amazing reviews. That's supercool. May I get another glass of the cocktail, please?"
"Ah. Careful there. One glass of Reff's wreck will drown your thoughts but a second glass will get you wasted. I wouldn't recommend."
"Good I'm not under eighteen, so I won't be having a use for alcohol recommendations." Gavin strains his eyebrows.
"Your call." Reff raises his hands in surrender.
Reff grabs a glass and mixes some beverages which resulted in the same drink he served Gavin earlier.
Gavin gulps the drink anew.
"Whoa. You discern the straw is not for aesthetics, right?" Reff asks.
"The straw will slowly sink my sorrows. The gulp will graciously drown my thoughts." Gavin shrugs.
Gavin is starting to feel blitzed. He's no longer reminiscing life before the detection of his sister's ailment. He's basking in the glory of the moment. He feels relieved. He loves this feeling.
"One more serving." He lifts his glass at Reff.
"You are sure about that?" Reff frowns.
Gavin nods.
This time, he uses the straw. He sips slowly. He sips his way to besottedness. He's turned sluggish. It takes him about an hour to empty the glass.
Completely wasted, he points to Reff and stammers. "What's… my… bill… huh?"
"I told you not to drink that much. You can barely get words out your mouth now." Reff frowns.
"Never mind… I… have some… cash… here." Gavin delves his hands in his hip pockets. He slaps rumpled money notes on the counter. "That should cover the bill," he closes his eyes, rests his back and flings his head to the back like he's about to slumber.
"You have some change." Reff speaks.
"Keep it. I should… go… home. Where's… my… car key?" Gavin stutters. He opens his eyes and staggers to his feet. He taps his body until he finds his keys in his back pocket. "Ah. Found… it. See… you… later… okay?" Gavin waves his hand.
"Wait. You are too drunk to drive. Do you remember your address?" Reff inquires.
"Huh?" Gavin stares blankly.
"Just hold on," Reff walks out from behind the counter. He searches Gavin's body hoping he's lucky to find his wallet. Luck smiles upon him. "Found it! Let me see if your ID card is in it," Reff flips Gavin's wallet open. "Konsize street. Okay." He nods as he races his eyes through a card in Gavin's wallet. "Sit here. I will call you a cab." He lowers Gavin's buttocks to the high stool he was initially sitting on.
Reff dials a driver's contact.
"Your ride is here," Reff tells Gavin whom is now almost asleep. "Let me support you outside." Reff raises Gavin's arm across his shoulders and supports staggering Gavin outside. He lowers him into the backseat of the car. "House 79, Konsize Street. Take your fee." He passes money to the driver.
Naomi and Greg are sitting outside when a taxi pulls up in front of their house. They walk towards the taxi.
"My goodness. Please what happened to him?" Naomi asks the driver as she sees Gavin stagger out of the car.
"He got drunk in a bar. The bartender asked me to bring him home. His addy is on his ID card."
"Thank you. How much is the fare?" Greg asks.
"It's already sorted. Good night."
The taxi driver revs his car engine and drives off.
Naomi and Greg support Gavin inside the house and seat him on the couch. Naomi is crying. "Gavin, why? When did this start? It's 11:38 p.m. You are so drunk that you had to be driven home. Gavin?" Naomi sobs.
Greg hugs Naomi. "It's okay. Let him rest. He can't answer much now. He's too far gone." Greg rubs Naomi's back as she sobs on his chest.
They unbutton Gavin's shirt and empty his pockets. Both of them start leaving the parlour for their respective rooms, abandoning drunk Gavin on the couch, when Gavin stammers a statement — "I'm too… distraught. I'm… sorry, Naams. I… love… you."
The next morning, Gavin wakes at dawn with a remarkable headache. He rolls his eyes. This was always his reason for boycotting alcoholic beverages. He hates the consequent headache, that comes the next morning, from being hungover the previous night. However, for the first time ever, he loves how relieved he felt when he was drunk. It felt as if all his sorrows had been buried. Now that he's sober, the worries are refreshed. Gavin soughs. He walks to his bedroom. To his surprise, Naomi is awake.
"Good morning, Naams. Why are you up so early?" Gavin asks.
"A parent that's not drunk has to take care of the baby, I suppose." Naomi flickers her eyelids at Gavin.
"Concerning that, I apologize for the inconvenience. I…"
"Which of the inconveniences are you apologizing for?" Naomi interrupts Gavin. "The part where you had Greg and I worried sick? Or the part when we had to go to your company to make enquiries about your movement and they told us you clocked out immediately it was closing time? Or the part in which Greg and I couldn't sleep because we thought something had happened to you? Or the part where we left several calls on your phone but you missed all? 11:38 p.m., Gavin. You drank yourself to stupor until almost midnight. We were worried to death here, meanwhile you were out enjoying yourself the whole time." Naomi snaps.
"I left my phone in my car because I didn't want disturbances. I didn't know you and Greg were calling me."
"You tag my calls disturbances?"
"Interruption. I mean I didn't want my meditation to be interrupted."
"Same difference."
"I'm genuinely sorry for all the troubles I put you through. I didn't purport being intoxicated—or more honestly—not that intoxicated. I simply wanted some alone time. Then I was lured to consume some alcohol. I liked how it felt and I continued consuming until I escaped reality. You, of all people, know I'm not big on drinking. I'm sorry, Naams."
"For how long more do you intend allowing this pain control you? Pain can also be used productively. It can be a form of character development. In your case, you are not using the pain. You are allowing the pain use you. I feel alone in your presence."
"I've never been one to handle pain well. I know I can't bring them back but I can't take my mind off them easily too. I should go get my phone from the car." Gavin points his right thumb in a backward bend signaling outside.
"Oh. You still don't get the drill. You couldn't drive home last night. You were too wasted. A taxi brought you home. When we emptied your pockets, we didn't see your phone. But now that you say you left it in the car, it all makes sense. Your car key is in its usual spot."
"I came home with my car key but without my car? Wow. I didn't know I was that stupefied. I remembered the addy?"
"The driver said it was on your ID card. He also told us not to worry about payment because it had been sorted."
"That was probably Reff's doing."
"Who's Reff?"
"Never mind. I apologize again. I should prepare for work." Gavin undresses and enters the bathroom. He brushes his teeth and bathes. He returns to the room and dresses up.
When he gets to the sitting room, he sees Greg.
"Whoa. Here's the barman." Greg teases.
"What's good, kid bro?" Gavin scoffs. "I'm sorry about yesterday. Naomi told me the stress both of you went through because of me. You know I'm usually not like that."
"It's cool. I want to make some toast. You care for some?"
"Yes, please. I need some pain-relief tablets for this relentlessly exacerbating pain pounding in my head."
"Perks of a hangover," Greg chuckles. "I need not remind you of how implicating booze can be to your medical condition, you know. A drunkard of a sickler sounds very endangering." Greg raises his eyebrows.
"You need not."
"Good. Let me get on with the toasts." Greg starts walking away.
"Greg," Gavin calls.
Greg stops walking and turns to Gavin. "Yeah?"
"How do you succeed getting past pain so quickly?"
Greg shrugs. "Don't dwell in the past so much that you discard the present. Problems and pain will always arise. And life can never be a bed of roses. We are all living to die so it's only reasonable that one enjoys his/her little mission on this journey called life, regardless of the obstacles. The day you agree with that, wholeheartedly, is the day you undauntedly supersede your sorrows."
"My mental state agrees with all those. Howbeit, my psychological state refuses to comply. My head is wrapped around it but my mind won't follow suit. I envy your strength to see past pain."
"We adapt to situations in varying timeframes. Give yourself time." Greg convinces.
"Hmmm. I guess you are right. Also, you will be dropping me off at the bar this morning, please. I need to pick my car. And my phone."
"Can you afford my chauffeuring services?"
"I will tell my accountant to disburse your charges." Gavin responds in wry humor.
"We should be fast though. We will eat the toast in the car. I don't want to be late for work. You know I will have to drive a longer distance because of the detour you require."
"Of course."
"Okay. Off I go to prepare some toast."
When Gavin alighted from Greg's car, the bar hadn't opened for the day. He decided he would come after work to thank Reff. He got in his car and drove to work.
After closing from work, Gavin heads to the bar.
"Hey, Reff. Gavin, remember?" Gavin converses as he sits on a high stool by the counter.
"Reff's wreck. Certainly." Reff chuckles.
"Yo, man. Thank you so much for having a brother's back yesternight. I'm really grateful. I had to come here to appreciate you."
"That's a regular assignment in my profession." Reff nods.
"The payment for the taxi…"
"You had change yesternight. I paid him with your change." Reff interrupts Gavin.
"Thanks a lot, man."
Gavin stands and starts walking away. He's at the bar entrance when he turns back and walks towards the counter. "You know, I want that Reff's wreck again." He says to Reff as he grabs a high stool.
"You are positive?" Reff raises his eyebrows in disbelief.
"I wish you'd stop asking me that question like I'm an adolescent. This time though, I should pay beforehand to avoid being a liability."
"Customers are always right." Reff sighs.
Gavin didn't consume one glass. He consumed three servings of Reff's wreck again. Again, a taxi drove him home. Day in, day out — he maintained that lifestyle. He goes to work in the morning. In the evening, he visits the bar. He comes home drunk in the dead of the night or, more often, midnight—in a taxi. He leaves his car in the bar every night. He continues his exasperation for weeks. Greg and Naomi no longer wait for Gavin's return before they go to bed. They stopped complaining because Gavin isn't attempting to drop his new habit.
On weekends, he either leaves the house to go drink or he locks himself in an isolated room and drinks. He avoids being sober except he's at work. So far his drunkenness helps him escape his pain, he is inclining himself with it.