Chapter 16

Adam, the tall kid in my small group, is waiting for me when we get back.

We go to the dining area because there is always sandwiches at night. It's like they know addicts so well. Sandwiches and cereal. I haven't eaten this well forever and my body is loving it.

Adam and I just sit at table and enjoy the food for a while.

So what's up?

He looks at me and says that I look different.

I laugh.

Yeah, I cut off all my hair and shaved.

Looks good.

We talk about nothing for a while longer and I can sense that there is something he really wants to talk about. He finally just looks me dead in the eye.

I don't know how to pray and wanted to know if you would pray with me.

I started tell him about how my prayers started in here.

Jesus please... Jesus please...

I make it clear to him that I am not an expert at all. I just feel like the prayers are helping me. I feel like something is happening that is so much bigger than me. I have to make this clear to him. I have to make this clear to myself.

I don't know anything about God. I just know that He is calling to me. I have always felt it. I just never acknowledged Him.

I can bet that everyone feels that in their life.

That is how we are designed.

So Adam and I sit in the dining room at the table and we pray. He prays with me out loud. He prays for his kids and I can feel the weight of the prayer. So much guilt for being a drunk Daddy.

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Fred the Jewish lawyer comes into the dining room and he is pissed beyond belief. He is holding his Big book and he is pissed.

He slams it down on a table and all eyes are on him.

I WANNA KNOW WHO THE FUCK WROTE THIS!

Silence.

IN MY BOOK! MY BIBLE!

Silence.

None of us have a clue of what he is talking about at all. Curiosity gets the best of all of us in the room and we walk over to him.

He is so angry that tears are starting to show.

What are you talking about Fred? What's up?

He says nothing and just opens up his Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous. On the inside of the front cover is scrawled

Go home you Jew Kyke Bastard

It is scrawled in pencil.

We are speechless.

I can't even believe it. Here is a guy that is in rehab trying to get better and has to deal with some racist bastard who can only feel better about themselves by degrading others.

Addiction is fueled differently in each of us.

Just scratch it out.

It's pencil. Erase it.

Fred just looks up at us.

I can't erase this...