The Inheritance

 

Got a phone call from Marcus that afternoon.

He called to tell me our friend Jimmy had died.

He collapsed from an overdose of drugs in a

motel parking lot on the East Side where he

was staying.

A couple of weeks earlier I let Jimmy stay at

my apartment until he was to have surgery

at the VA for a busted-up ankle. He got it

from jumping off a garage roof while drunk

months before.

I met Jimmy at the VA alcohol and drug rehab

facility where we were going through a 3-week

recovery program together.

When we were released, I told him he could

stay with me for a few weeks as long as he

didn’t drink or use. I didn’t want to relapse

myself and go through that shit all over again.

Well Jimmy lasted a week or so, and was

at it once again. I had no choice but to send

him away. He then went to live with Marcus,

who had been in treatment with us as well.

But that didn’t work out between the two

of them either. Seems with drunks and

addicts it rarely if ever does.

Lucky for Jimmy he had an old spinster aunt

who had recently passed away in another

State. His sister informed him that she left

her nieces and nephews some money. And

for Jimmy that amounted to some $4000

which his sister sent him by telegram.

Marcus told me that Jimmy got a cheap

a motel room, bought himself an ample

supply of beer, hooked up with an assort-

ment of illicit drugs which he started to

abuse right away.

It was only a few more weeks until he

was scheduled for surgery at the VA.

Laid back high and smashed with his

wad of cash, Jimmy figured that had

it made. That was until he overdosed

and passed out in the motel parking lot.

Lying comatose for a few days in hospital,

Jimmy died. On and off the wagon myself

since then, I have managed by the grace

of God to break my bond of addiction and

remain sober to this day.

Before Jimmy’s passing, had I had the

chance to suggest a better use of $4000,

he may have had his surgery, and like me

could have gone on to see better days.

But then, what was to be expected of us

anyway? We were died in the wool drunk

junkies, after all, who had made our

choices, and gone our separate ways.

                   -30-

Chris Hanch 10-29-2020