Too much again

 I went looking through some old folders for something that I could post this week. I do promise to post some new stuff in the coming weeks, I just haven't gotten back in the groove to write on a regular basis. I did send off a micro-flash fiction (300 words or fewer) to a contest in the UK. It's a weekly prompt so hopefully that will help the creative juices.

So as I was saying, I was looking through some old folders and I came across "Too much again" and began to read it. I only vaguely remember writing it. When I checked the date on the file it was from July 2013. I guess when something has been laying dormant on you hard drive for more than seven years, you have a right to only vaguely remember it. I think I tend to remember ones that are written for contests. I'm not sure why I wrote this particular story, but here it is.

Too much, again

It had been six months since he’d left. He’d had too much to drink that night before he got home and that was all it took to piss her off.

“I see you’ve been celebrating. You could have at least taken me with you, after all it is our wedding anniversary”, she said.

He stared at her through blood-shot eyes, the said with a slur to his words, “Is not, that’s next week, on the twenty first.”

“Today is the twenty first; I don’t know why I ever married you. You weren’t like this to begin with. You used to be fun, now all you want to do is get drunk.”

“I drink to forget,” he said.

“Forget what?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Oh ha ha, very funny. You drink because you are an alcoholic, just like your father. I should have listened to my mother, she told me you were bad news from the beginning, but I wouldn’t listen.”

“I didn’t know your mother thought so highly of me.” He swayed for a few seconds then lurched over to a chair. After a moment or two he navigated his backside into the chair.

“Of all nights to show up like this. You knew my mother was coming over for dinner. I’m glad she left before she could see you like this.”

“I am too,” he said with a belch. “That’s better.”

“What’s wrong with my mother?”

“How much time do you have, the list is pretty long. Let’s see, she’s manip…, manip…, she tries to make you do things you don’t want to do. She’s fat, she colors her hair that awful shade of red, and she smells funny. Nothing is ever good enough for her, your cooking, your cleaning, and your choice of a husband. She’s just a fat old wind bag.”

It was then his wife began to cry and throw things at him, so he left. He had no plans of ever returning.

That had been six months ago and he was back at the same bar where it had all started. Once again he’d had way too much to drink. He was beginning to think she might have been right when she called him an alcoholic. He’d made his way to the bath room, but the door was locked. He decided he’d go relieve himself out in the alley. He was just finishing up when he felt the bottle come crashing down on his head. Nobody had missed him inside, he was just another drunk who had staggered out and not come back. When he came to it was nearly dawn. He felt the lump on his head and looked around. He had no idea where he was, but worse than that he had no idea who he was. As he struggled to his feet, his wallet hit the ground. He picked it up, there was no cash or credit cards, but there was a driver’s license. He staggered out to the curb and threw-up. Once he saw the street signs he knew where he was. The address on the license was only a couple of blocks away. He slowly made his way there. He felt like his head was in a kettle drum and someone was playing the 1812 overture on it. He finally made it to the row house that matched up with the address on the license. It was only vaguely familiar, but he knocked on the door anyway. Although it was early, his wife had been up for a while.

She heard the knock and said, “Coming.” She looked through the peep hole and saw her husband on the stoop. She flung the door open and said,” You're brave to come back here after everything you said that night.”

He just stared at her, and then he asked, “Who am I?”

It was then she saw how disheveled he was and noticed the dried blood in his hair.

“Oh my God, you’ve been hurt. Get in here and let me look at that.”

She maneuvered him into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet. He reeked from being in the alley overnight and she began to fill the bathtub with hot water. While that was happening she wiped his head with a wet washcloth.

He winced and said,” Hey that hurts, can I get a couple of aspirin.”

“In a minute, but first we need to get you out of these disgusting clothes.”

“Hold on there a minute.”

“It’s OK, I’m you wife. “

He looked her over with an appraising eye. “Really? I’m married to you?”

She hadn’t seen that look in his eye since before they were married, and it made her blush.

“Yes, really. If you think you can get out of those stinky clothes and get in the tub by yourself I’ll leave you alone and go get you some aspirin.”

He thought he’d be able to manage so she went off to fetch him some aspirin and clean clothes. Luckily she hadn’t thrown them out yet, although it was on her to-do list.

She came back and found him dozing off in the tub.

“Wake up! We’ll have none of that; nobody is drowning on my watch.”

She popped the aspirin in his mouth and gave him the water to wash them down with. “Do you think you can stay awake long enough for me to get you a cup of coffee?”

“I’ll try”, he said. “It’s just that I’m so sleepy.”

“It’s the concussion, when did this happen?”

“I don’t know, early this morning before the bar closed.”

It took all of her control not to launch into him. Instead of retaliating, she said,” I’m going to get you that coffee now. If you feel too sleepy, wipe that wash cloth across your head, that will wake you up.”

When she got back with the coffee, she found him wide awake with a slightly bloody wash cloth in his hand and a grimace on his face.

“You were right, that wash cloth sure woke me up, but boy does it smart. I guess I said something before that wasn’t too nice. I’d like to apologize for what ever it was. You seem like a nice person, and I seem like a bum, but you took me in anyway.”

She felt a lump come up in her throat and tears begin to form in her eyes. “Well we are married, for better or worse. I’ve had the worse, maybe we could work on the better.”

“Maybe, am I worth it though?”

“I guess we’ll just have to see. Get dressed and come downstairs and I fix us some breakfast, then we can talk about it”, she said, as she bent down and kissed his forehead. “Maybe we can get you into AA.”

“I don’t think I can do that”, he said.

She felt her blood pressure starting to rise and was about to say something.

“I think to go to AA meeting, you need to know your name”, he said.

They both burst out laughing, something she hadn’t done for quite some time.

“Ow, don’t make me laugh, it hurts my head.”