GuidoWorld

Chapter 1

“Gary!…Gary! Come on man, wake up!” Somewhere in the back of my mind I can hear Doug’s obnoxious whispered shouts cutting into my dreams.

“Gary!…Get up! If I mess up on this morning’s room check I won’t get to go home….Christ, Gary, GET UP!”

After months of having to live Doug’s weekly soap opera of whether he was going home or not, I can’t muster any sympathy for the twerp. My only response to his hyper, and may I add terribly rude plea, is to wave a solitary finger up in the air. Following this terse, but heartfelt sentiment, I fall back into Sara’s arms continuing a most rewarding dream.

“Same to you, asshole!” I hear Doug spit out as he storms out of the room.

My dream regarding Sara moves on quite undisturbed by Doug’s untimely interruption. As usual, she is visiting me in the hospital, realizing how she has always loved me. Her eyes filled with tears are not the only moist part of her anatomy as she begs me to live. Pressed up against me, I can feel the outline of her…

“What the hell are you doing?” I scream in response to the icy cold water Doug flings into my face.

“I was about to get up, you moron! Now you’re going to have to wait a couple of minutes till I dry myself off!” This announcement is not so much to piss Doug off, as to stall for time to allow my underwear to fit normally again before I get out of bed.

“Just get your ass up,” Doug challenges, “before I have to pull you out of bed!”

“Pull me out of bed and you can kiss that home visit goodbye!”

Paralyzed by the reality of my last threat, Doug backs away from me muttering, “You got two minutes, Gary. If you’re not up in two minutes my visit’s screwed anyway…then I swear I’ll kill ya.” These last words are spat out as defiantly as any man in such a no-win position can.

Doug, despite his childish tantrums and annoying habits, is by far the best roommate I’ve ever had in one of these places. He likes the same kind of music I do, and generally leaves me to myself when I want to be alone.

Even pressing his buttons and getting him to blow up is generally a lot of fun. Though Doug has quite a temper, I’m usually able to keep him from totally going out of control so our skirmishes generally don’t get either of us in any trouble. Yet, tormenting Doug and getting the veins in his forehead to pop out, gives me great satisfaction…

“There’s a shower free, you better nab it before Larry gets up.” Doug offers sounding much nicer, though still slightly panicked. “It’s your day to vacuum,” Doug adds regaining an agitated tone.

Getting up I quickly make my way to the shower, for God knows, I don’t want to have to take a shower after Larry. First of all, Larry has only been in the house for a few weeks and is still fighting the system. He never gets his privileges, spending almost the entire day getting in trouble. At school he is a pompous jerk, and at the house he’s a lazy rebel.

Larry sleeps late almost every day, and then takes a good fifteen minutes to shower. If you take a shower after Larry you face two inhumane punishments. First, you’re late for your room check, starting the day off in the hole; and second, you have to face the full force of Larry’s gastronomic system as he deposits hideous odors during his long shower.

One is never quite sure if the steam on Larry’s shower stall is from hot water or putrid gas. In any case, I’m not about to begin my morning by being forced to identify what Larry has eaten over the last twenty four hours.

In the shower stall next to me is Will who’s forever aggravating everyone in the house. One is never safe from his constant name calling and horse play.

Will is one of those kids whose main joy in life is setting other people up to get in trouble. He spends hours making obscene gestures and needlessly bumping into you in order to get you to react. Once successful, he goes running to the nearest adult to tell on you. If you’re nice to him, it only confuses him and does little to get him to stop trying to get you in trouble.

I’ve discovered the best way to deal with Will is to just be patient and wait for him to get bored and go away. In our house this works fine, for there always are others who Will can suck into his games and get in trouble.

Actually, the shower is one of the few safe places to be around Will. Just turning thirteen and much younger than most of the boys in the house, he is quite embarrassed about his hairless body and little boy physique. All around campus Will receives mondo verbal abuse over his being short, underdeveloped and somewhat chubby.

This morning Will’s actually being quite friendly and uncharacteristically mature. After asking me what I plan on doing this weekend, he informs me he has enough points to make it home. When I ask him when was the last time he was home, he softly mumbles it has been quite awhile.

While he quickly finishes up his shower and shuffles back to his room, I can feel Will’s excitement about going home turning to fear and anxiety. After a few moments, it all comes back to me. Will’s last visit to his mom’s house ended up as a real fiasco. He came back in tears and ran upstairs while his mom shouted at Frank and Jeanine, telling them how much she hates Will and never wants him back home again.

As it turns out, Will’s mom can press buttons even better than him. On that last home visit, he lost it when she refused to let him go see a friend. She went so far as to call the police, and tried to press charges on him for threatening to destroy her property. When this failed, she took Will to a psychiatric hospital and tried to get him committed. His mom, who’s never been comfortable hearing about Will’s progress, has tried numerous times to get Will committed back into a hospital or relocated to an institution in another part of the country.

Even though Will is a dip and an idiot, you can’t help but feel sorry for him anytime you meet his mother. Frank and Jeanine have been real patient with Will, and I have to admit he’s improved a lot since I’ve been here. At times you can tell he really wants to change, to be somewhat normal, but he has no idea where he wants to go. He’s been in institutions and hospitals since he was eight years old, and the odds of him ever living back home seem less likely as time goes on.

Despite all the shit his mom has done to him, I’ve never met a kid more devoted and protective of his mother. You say one word against his mom and he’ll pester you for an entire month. The only safe topic to talk to Will about is his younger brother, Justin.

Justin is about two years younger than Will and three times as obnoxious. His mom, though, portrays Justin as a perfect little angel and won’t hear of any bad news regarding him. Will, who never wins in this situation, is always very eager to hear our insults of the little maggot.

When Justin and his mom leave after a family session with Frank and Jeanine, us guys often sit around for hours and talk about how the little cretin has Will’s mom wrapped around her finger. I guess Will enjoys these conversations because he, too, feels that his brother is taking advantage of his mom.

My thoughts on Will are disturbed by the sound of Larry belching on his way to the bathroom. I quickly finish washing my hair and prepare for a speedy exit from the area.

Larry, who never has had much concern for personal hygiene, pauses for a few moments in front of the mirror over the sinks to watch himself burp. In an effort to avoid any unchaperoned time with the big moron, I wait till I hear him entering the shower next to me before I make my escape.

Re-entering my room, which is right across the hall from the bathroom, I’m greeted by Doug’s paranoia. “Here’s the vacuum…now get going. Frank’s already begun to check the rooms at the other end of the hall.” Doug kicks the vacuum cleaner over towards my bed to give emphasis to his command.

Frank, in fact, had not begun room checks, but is talking to Kyle who’s complaining about having to room with Larry. Pointing this out to Doug during his current dementia is useless, so instead I just begin straightening up my half of the room before vacuuming.

“Hey, why don’t you vacuum first?” Doug bellows as he nervously begins chewing on his nails.

“Cool out Doug, I’ll take the heat if I don’t get the room completed before Frank comes.”

“You better,” Doug sputters as he paces across the room. “I’m going home this weekend,” he adds as if his entire life depends on this one event.

I guess this time you can’t blame Doug for being a little antsy about getting home. He is taking some girl named Linda to the movies on Saturday. He’s got big plans, and has talked all week long of how he is going to put the moves on her. His parents are even letting him have the car for the evening.

Giving the keys to Doug is not only a first for his parents, but also quite insane. Though seventeen years old, Doug has never advanced much passed the varoom-varoom stage with cars. He forever fantasizes about speeding along the highway, and reacts to the sound of a racing engine about the same as the neighborhood mutt. As soon as he hears a racing engine his ears perk up and his head turns around. The only difference is instead of chasing the car, Doug recites the engine size and other mechanical facts about the vehicle speeding past.

Though I’ve never shown the slightest interest in learning about cars, Doug never tires of telling me about “this turbo charged dream”, or “that fuel injected marvel”.

Doug’s pacing and nail biting continues right up until I start the vacuum cleaner. As soon as I start vacuuming, Doug walks over to the door to check where Frank is and then returns to sit on his bed. The sound of the vacuum cleaner apparently has a calming affect on Doug for his endless fidgeting stops the moment I begin vacuuming.

The sound of the vacuum must remind Doug of a car engine, for he always watches the canister whenever the vacuum is running. Doug also routinely tinkers with the vacuum cleaner even when it isn’t broken, spending hours taking it apart and re-assembling it.

Turning off the vacuum cleaner I still hear its loud hum in my head. I sit down on my bed and wait a few moments for my ears to clear. As my hearing returns it seems as if I can hear more than usual.

I hear little Avery talking to Jeanine as she takes him downstairs for breakfast. I hear the radio in Peter and Perry’s room playing some sixties rock and roll, and I can also hear Frank correcting Tony and Will’s room chore.