A Sad Soul Can Kill You Part 22

The sun was midway in the sky and caused a stream of light to enter the room through the slits in the window blind. Tiny specs of dust floated effortlessly in the air, and then settled on Serenity's h.e.l.lo Kitty hat lying on the floor beneath the window.

Tia stood there watching her sleep. The peaceful name she'd given her daughter at birth had not transferred over into her life as she'd hoped it would. Something was not serene with her daughter. But how could it be when she had a father hooked on painkillers and a mother . . .? Tia leaned her head against the doorway.

At one point everything had been peaceful and calm with Serenity. But that had been a long time ago, when she'd been a child and her whole world had revolved around Tia and Lorenzo . . . when they'd both been decent parents. Now, Serenity was a teenager trying to deal with all the things that came with being a teenager. And just when she needed them most, neither of them had paid much attention to her. They were both guilty of being distracted by their own issues.

Tia inhaled deeply. What kind of mother was she being to Serenity? Had she been so consumed with her own problems that she'd put her daughter at the bottom of her list of priorities? She closed the door softly and went downstairs.

While she was in the kitchen making a cup of coffee, she heard the front door open. She walked out of the kitchen and was surprised to see Lorenzo coming in. He still wore the green hospital identification band around his wrist and a small Band-Aid covered the top of his hand where the IV needle had been.

"Why didn't you call me?" she said. "I would have come and picked you up."

"I didn't know you were staying home," he said in his usual dull voice.

Tia glared at him. He was still the same. Not even a near overdose had changed that cold demeanor he insisted on holding to. "We had a little bit of a scare yesterday with Serenity," she said as she stirred her coffee.

"What do you mean a scare? What happened?"

"Well, not only did she go off to meet some boy she met online, but one of the neighbors pulled her into his house and locked her in his bas.e.m.e.nt."

"What?" Lorenzo's emotional state was awakened. "What neighbor?"

Tia looked down into her cup of coffee. "The man next door to Shari and her husband," she said.

Lorenzo waved his hands in the air. "Is she all right?"

"She's all right physically. She said he didn't do anything to her except tie her to a chair. And thank G.o.d he didn't tie it tight enough, so she was able to get out of it."

Tia took a sip of coffee from the cup she was holding.

The frown on Lorenzo's forehead deepened. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I just did," Tia said.

He balanced himself against the kitchen counter with one hand. "Tell me the circ.u.mstances, Tia."

Tia took in a deep breath before she began. "When Serenity came home yesterday and found you on the floor," she paused to let her words sink in, "she called me at work. I called 9-1-1, and then I told Serenity to go to Shari's house. She said n.o.body was there so she went next door to the neighbors, and that's how he ended up pulling her into his house."

"Continue," Lorenzo said.

Tia saw the fury in his eyes. That was the one emotion he had no problem displaying.

"I called the police," she said, "and while they were over there talking to him, Serenity managed to untie herself and crawl out the bas.e.m.e.nt window."

Lorenzo stormed to the hall closet. "Where's my bat?"

"He's not there," she told him.

"They arrested him?"

"Yes. One of the police officers called to tell me he tried to run away after Serenity escaped, but they caught him."

The awkward silence between them returned.

"I'm sure she's still a little shook up," Tia said as she carried her cup of coffee upstairs to her room. "You might want to check on her . . ." she hesitated, "if you have time."

"If I have time?" he said walking toward the stairs. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said." She stopped and turned midway around. "What part of that don't you understand?"

"Oh, I understand," he said standing at the foot of the stairs. "But what are you trying to say?"

"I'm not trying to say anything." She turned her full body around to face him. "I thought I said it. Make time for your daughter. Maybe if you paid more attention to her, she might not be on the computer looking for boys to meet!"

Serenity flung her bedroom door open. "I wasn't looking for boys!" she cried out, and then slammed her door shut.

Lorenzo ignored her outburst. "You're one to talk," he said pointing his finger toward her. "How much time do you spend with her? Yeah, you take her to visit your mother and grandmother once a month, but what else do you do with her? All you do is go to work and church."

"There was a time when you went to church too," Tia replied. She turned and continued upstairs. "Maybe it's time you remembered that."

Lorenzo remained standing at the bottom of the stairs as he watched Tia storm away. He heard the bedroom door slam shut, and his mind began to pull him toward his old familiar escape route. He turned toward the front door.

Thirty minutes and two pills later, and he would not have to deal with what was going on in this house. Then he remembered the shame he'd felt lying in the hospital bed being told that his daughter had found him sprawled out in a drug-induced unconsciousness. He shook his head. Why hadn't G.o.d just let me die?

He put one hand on the stair banister while he kept staring at the door. He thought about the pamphlet and the referral for treatment he'd accepted at the hospital before he'd been discharged. He walked back to the hallway and picked up the pamphlet.

It was a faith-based treatment center that offered a one-year recovery and deliverance program for men and women. Several testimonies were printed on the cover from those who, through the power of Jesus Christ, had been set free from their addiction.

Lorenzo knew something needed to change-he knew he needed to change. That's why he had accepted the information, and an appointment had already been scheduled for him.

"Lord, give me strength," he whispered as he turned around and slowly headed upstairs to Serenity's bedroom. He knocked softly on her door, and then opened it slowly. She was lying on her bed with her earplugs in her ears. "Hey," he said.

She looked at him and did not speak.

He wiped his moist hands on the side of his blue jeans, then signaled with his fingers for her to remove the earplugs.

She reluctantly took one of them out of her ear.

"I want to talk to you," he said.

"I already told you," she said defiantly, "I wasn't looking for boys."

"That's not what I want to talk to you about," Lorenzo said as he sat down on the edge of her bed. "At least not now. Right now, I want to know how you're feeling about everything."

Serenity hunched her shoulders, and then let them relax.

Lorenzo stared at the pink h.e.l.lo Kitty poster on her wall. The mouthless feline stared back at him. "What does that mean, Serenity?"

"Nothing," she said.

He continued to sit on the edge of the bed.

It's your fault, Serenity thought as she put the earplug back in her ear.

A few seconds pa.s.sed before he spoke. "Listen," he said, "I'm sorry about what happened, and I'm glad you're okay." Then he stood up and walked out of her bedroom.

She rolled her eyes. It's still your fault, she thought. Then she turned on her iPod.

Chapter Forty-three.

One week after being discharged from the hospital, Lorenzo walked into the Christian-based outpatient treatment center. After checking in at the receptionist desk, he pulled two chairs close together and distributed his weight evenly between the two. A piece of brown thread hung loosely from one of the seat cushions he sat on, and he nervously began twisting and untwisting the thread around his finger. He surveyed the lobby as he waited to be a.s.sessed by one of the AODA counselors.

A painting of a lilac against a white backdrop hung on the gray wall behind the receptionist. The recessed lighting in the ceiling, along with the wall-mounted water fountain, created a welcoming, serene effect.

Lorenzo gazed at the gentle stream of water trickling down from the fountain as his mind began to replay everything that had happened to him prior to the fall. He remembered the woman on the television screen telling him that suicide was not the answer. He could still hear her whispered invitation to ask Jesus into his heart, and he remembered calling out to Him for help.

But the thing that really stayed with him was what she'd said about Jesus being able to do for him what those pills he'd been taking couldn't do. That was the last thing he remembered before everything went dark.

When he'd woken up he was in a hospital bed. His head ached, and there'd been a tube down his throat and an IV needle stuck in his arm. When Tia had come to see him, he couldn't even bear to look at her.

He remembered her embrace and how badly he'd wanted to just dissolve into her arms, but he'd been unable to diminish his angry faade. It had become his defense mechanism, and he'd needed it then more than ever to hide the shame he'd felt. Why had he let himself get to this point?

The next day the hospital social worker came to talk to him. She'd brought several pamphlets pertaining to alcohol and drug treatment centers with her. After introducing herself and asking him a few questions, she'd given Lorenzo a short questionnaire to fill out. Based on his answers, she'd asked him if he'd like a referral to one of the treatment facilities, and he'd said yes.

The door opened and a fair-skinned man with dark freckles scattered across his face appeared. "Lorenzo," he called out as he scanned the small group of people in the lobby.

Lorenzo recognized the face, but it was too late now. There was nothing he could do. He stood up, smoothed out his shirt, and walked toward the man. "Hey, Tony," he said to his neighbor at the end of the cul-de-sac.

"Hey, man," Tony said to Lorenzo after he closed the door to his office. "I understand if this feels a little uncomfortable to you, but I want to let you know three things: First, I want you to know that I'm glad your daughter is okay."

"Thank you," Lorenzo said.

"Second, I won't be your counselor. I'm just doing the intake. All right?"

Lorenzo nodded his head.

"Third, there's something called HIPAA privacy rules. I'm going to have you read over it and sign it in a few minutes. But what it means is that your privacy is protected. Everything that goes on here remains strictly confidential. None of us can discuss you, your business," he pointed his long finger at him, "or anything else that pertains to you outside of this facility or with anybody who's not directly involved in your care."

Lorenzo ran his fingers along the kinky curls of hair on the side of his face. "Does that include my wife?"

Tony nodded. "That includes your wife. We won't discuss your situation with her at all unless you sign a release form giving us permission to do so."

Lorenzo was relieved. He was not ready to divulge everything to Tia, and although Tony seemed like a decent person, Lorenzo wasn't sure if he'd be comfortable sharing his personal business with a member of the church he used to attend. Not to mention that he was his neighbor and both their wives were friends. It was all too close for comfort.

"Yeah," Tony said, interrupting Lorenzo's thoughts. "I don't want anything to get in the way of your deliverance, man." He looked at him. "Nothing," he repeated.

"Thanks, man," Lorenzo said. He rubbed his beard again, then put his finger on his chin and frowned. "I notice you used the word deliverance instead of recovery."

Tony smiled. The door has just been opened. This was the part of his job he loved the most. "That's right, man," he said, "because that's what it boils down to. At the end of the day, do you want to complete your treatment and keep on telling everybody you're in recovery? Or do you want to be delivered, healed," he placed his hand over his heart, "permanently set free?"

Tony smiled again and Lorenzo noticed how vibrant his appearance had become since he'd started talking about being set free and delivered.

"There's a difference between the two," Tony said. "And I can tell you right off the bat," he spread out his arms and held up his hands. "I'm a witness because I've been delivered."

Lorenzo remained silent as he continued to study Tony's glowing face.

"Praise the Lord," Tony said still smiling.

After the intake a.s.sessment was completed, Tony went over a few final pieces of information before Lorenzo left his office.

"Once you've seen the doctor, our clinical team will use the information from our a.s.sessment to create a care plan for you. There'll be a treatment plan that addresses your particular addiction. We'll have you set some goals for getting clean and staying clean," he smiled, "aka delivered. And, of course, we'll have to address your lifestyle and what led you down this path to begin with."

Lorenzo rubbed his forehead. His anxiety was returning. "Sounds like a lot of work."

"It is. But nothing worth having is easy," Tony said rea.s.suringly. "And just so you understand, I'm saying we, but I won't be a part of the team. I just want to make sure you understand that."

"I understand," Lorenzo said.

"And also understand that I may not be your counselor, but I do support you because I know what you're going through."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Lorenzo said looking at the floor. "Let me ask you something."

"Sure."

"You said something about a difference between recovery and deliverance."

Tony nodded his head slowly.

"What did you mean by that?"

"I mean what the Word means," he said. "The Bible says, when Jesus sets you free, you're free indeed! Ain't no going back unless you choose to. And some people do. The Bible talks about that too."

Tony opened his drawer and pulled out a miniature orange leather Bible. He flipped through its pages. "Here it is," he said. "Proverbs 26, verse 11, 'As a dog returns to its vomit,'" Tony read, "'so fools repeat their folly.'" He turned the Bible around and pointed to the scripture so Lorenzo could see it for himself.

"That's deep," Lorenzo said.

"It is," Tony agreed. "We'll talk some more if you want to." He got up to take Lorenzo back out to the lobby. "Off the record," he added.

"Cool," Lorenzo said.

"You'll be seeing the doctor for a health screening next," Tony explained as he escorted Lorenzo through the door.

Lorenzo took a seat once more. He tried to ignore the anxiety he was feeling. He wanted to believe that he could be set free from the emotional bondage he'd been living with all his life. He dug his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. Maybe he could be, he thought as he watched the ribbons of water flowing freely from the fountain on the wall.