Some Are Sicker Than Others by Andrew Seaward (Excerpt 4)

Posted on Thursday, August 8, 2013

Chapter 2 - Speaker Meeting


“Oh, hey Robby,” Monty said, trying to sound delighted, while at the same time trying to move out from under that disgusting, minty dip smell.

“Hey Monty, where the hell you been, man? I ain’t heard from you in what, like, a couple weeks now, right?”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I was actually in Florida visiting my parents.”

“No shit? How’d that go?”

“It went.”

“That bad, huh?”


“Well, you could’ve called me. What? They don’t got phones in Florida?”

“Well, I was pretty busy. What with all the Christmas presents and dinner parties and stuff like that.”

“That’s no excuse man. You still gotta call your sponsor. Let me know how things are going. Shit, Vicky called Susan like everyday, twice on Christmas. You need to take after her man. She should be a shining example for you.”

“I know, I know. Story of my life, right?”

“Damn skippy.” Robby cleared his throat and spit into his spit cup then wiped the saliva from his chin. “So, how’s that fourth step coming?”

“It’s coming.”

“Yeah, you’ve been working on that thing for like three months now, right?”

“Yeah, I’m still trying to get my head around it.”

“Shit man. There ain’t no trying. You just gotta sit down and do it. Write that shit out, you know?”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

“I know it can be overwhelming at first, having to write all that shit down; all the terrible things we did and said in our addiction; the people we harmed and pushed away; it’s fucking humiliating. Nobody wants to have to relive all that bullshit and they sure as hell don’t wanna confess it to someone they barely even know. But, trust me, dude, once you do it, you’ll feel a million times better, like a weight has been lifted off your soul. You’ll be able to breathe and put all that bad shit behind you and finally start living your life again. It’s worth it.” Robby smiled as he patted Monty on the shoulder, looking at him with pride as a father would a son. He cleared his throat and spit again into his spit cup, then checked the grandfather clock that was wedged up against the back wall. “Oh shit dude. It’s almost time. You ready?”

“I guess so.”

“Yeah? You nervous?”

“A little bit.”

Robby snickered and took a step forward, slapping Monty open palm on the back. “Yeah I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry dude. You’ll be fine. Just get up there and let them words flow through you—open your mind and open your heart. You’ll be alright.”

“I hope so.”

“It’s a special god damn night, boy. I’m real proud of you. I mean that.”

“Thanks Robby.”

“Ya’ll doing anything later to celebrate?”

Monty looked down at his pocket, smiling at the bulge the ring box made against his thigh. He did a quick scan of the foyer to make sure Vicky was nowhere in sight. “Actually…” he said, with a slight hesitation, not too sure if he should tell Robby the news.

“What?” Robby said, in almost a whisper, his eyes darting between Monty and the foyer. “What is it? Is it something about Vicky?”

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Genre – Literary Fiction

Rating – R

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