Escaping the Whirlwind (part one)

Adriana slept and slept and slept. She had slept through an entire day of sun, into night, into the early light of a desperate and regretful dawn. She was feeling old. Correction; her conscience was feeling old. At heart, she was still sixteen. Her conscience however, had lived through countless retreats, defeats, and forgiveness that toppled that of God. When she did wake nearly two days later, she felt a tear come on. She internalized the fight against that one tear making it onto her cheek. 'No, no, I can't let myself cry. If I start, I won't be able to stop.' And so it went. She had to smile. She had to convince herself that what she had done wasn't that bad. It would be fine. She just had to see if her conscience was up to the task. Could her conscience tell her for this last time-it had to be for the last time-that it was gunna be ok. She was gunna be ok. One deep breath and she was out the door again. Her home was just a place to sleep in-most of the time anyway-and she knew it.
She met up with Billy, her best friend, for a cup of coffee before work. She sat with her eyes down, staring at the filthy diner's booth. She felt akin to it. She stirred her coffee, hoping Billy wouldn't see into her eyes and know the truth. Billy tried to give hints about his concern for her, but he also knew it would only compile her anxiety and possibly send her running further away from her problems.

"Hey, so, I haven't seen you since you flew out to Austin. How's it been?"

She kept her eyes on the coffee.

"It's been good. Yeah, really good. You know, it's a little crazy right now, but yeah I like it. It's good."

"How's your dad been?"

Her eyes came up into Billy's for a few seconds before continuing.

"He's actually kinda sick right now."

"Sorry to hear that. So what's wrong?"

"Well, they aren't sure, but it's possible that the cancer has returned."

"Oh shit Adriana. Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yeah, well, I mean like I said we don't know yet, so I'm trying not to think about it."

There was an awkward silence and a few purposefully loud sighs. Billy thought for a moment what to say. Something that would change the subject and possibly move the conversation into a more positive direction.

"So, what about school. How's that goin' for you?"

Adriana laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Well, huh, not that well. I mean I plan on re-taking some of those classes next semester, but you know with the whole thing with my dad and all, it's just been real hectic and crazy and-"

"Sure sure."

Billy wanted to know how many classes if any, she passed. He quickly realized this was also a subject to be avoided. He went to the old stand by.

"What about music? Are you still playing at all? How's the scene in Austin?"

Her eyes and ears perked up in excitement. She nearly bounced out of the chair. What followed was the typical delusionary talk of near fame that comes from every musician's mouth, especially in a town like Austin.

"Fuck yeah! It's been goin' good Billy. I've been playin' around. You know different people here and there. Still workin' on my solo stuff you know."

"Oh, awesome. That's good."

"Yeah, the only shitty thing is, I had to sell a bunch of my equiment you know. Well, it's at the pawn shop right now, but I'll get it out."

Billy felt his heart sink. He wanted to hold her in his arms and cradle her head telling her it was going to be ok. He knew as well as anyone else that it wasn't going to be ok. She was going to dig that grave with her little spoon until it finally got deep enough to sleep in. She needed the rest, and so did her conscience.

Billy left the diner trying to remember how far he had come. He could be in her position at any moment. For the time being, he had stayed afloat. None of their friends really seemed to be to far away from failure. They all thought about it all the time. Which one of them would turn up in jail, or dead. Those thoughts were all kept quiet in various ways.

Billy's roomate had been a highschool friend. Allen, met Billy in music class and tended to give Billy a hard time. Allen was two years younger and pretty rebellious for kid that never missed an honor roll. Over the years, Allen had lost the rebellious fire that burned in his heart and traded it all for a cold and calculating one. His father's expectations and militaristic complaining had finally gotten to him. Allen spent every waking moment at his computer, sealed off in his bedroom, 16-18 hours a day findind projects that challenged him and sent him running on a track in his mind, in circles, accomplishing nothing.

Allen came out of his room in a huff. He rushed by Billy into the kitchen to make coffee and pull another all nighter on his computer.

"This coffee pot is filthy."

"Sorry man. You want me clean it real fast."

"No. I mean just clean it when you're done with it."

Allen's dad's voice echoed in his mind in a quiet disgust.

"I'm just getting sick of everything around me being so fucking filthy. Everything. Everywhere I look is fucking filth. Every person that comes into our apartment. Filthy."

Billy looked for the exit.

"I gotta go man."

Allen walked back into his bedroom holding his largest coffee mug, passing Billy with his eyes down at the carpet.

Billy decided to pass the time at Dylan's house. Dylan was also a couple years younger than Billy. Billy had thought about the fact that so many of his friends were younger than him. What did it mean? What was the significance of that? Was there any? He didn't feel there was any and decided to concentrate on how to pass his time for the next few hours until Allen cooled off.

When he got to Dylan's house Dylan had been smoking pot, drinking beer, and attempting to write a song on his acoustic guitar.

"What's up man," billy said while looking around for a place to sit.

Dylan had moved four times that year alone and decided each time that it was easier to just get rid of most of his furniture in case he needed to move again.

"Not much dude. You want a beer?"

Billy thought about it. It was afterall, his day off. It seemed all of his friends had that day off, as well as many other days off.

"Yeah, sure."

Billy moved a few magazines and dirty underwear from a small video game chair and sat down with caution. He was handed a beer and popped it open, also with caution. He sipped at his beer slowly in case his conscience was paying any attention.

Dylan looked up at him setting down his guitar.

"So? What's up?"

"Allen was bein' a dick and I decided to get out for a few hours."

Dylan light up another joint and walked around his apartment with his chest held out in defiance.
"Fuck that guy. Never liked him anyway."

Billy thought about that statement. Who did Dylan like? Not that many of Billy's friends anyway. When Billy thought about it, he wasn't sure how many of his own friends he liked either. How do anti-social people fill their time?

"It must be really difficult."

Billy realized he had said out loud what he was internalizing and had to come up with another reason for having said that.

"What?"

"For Adriana right now. She is dealing with her dad in the hospital, plus I think she dropped out again. I wonder if her parents know."

Dylan was just realizing that he had forgotten to run some errands that day and told Billy he was probably going to have to take off soon.

"You can come with me if you want but it may be boring."

Billy looked around again, possibly for a sign that would direct him to his next destination. He thought for what felt like an eternity contimplating what, if any, goals he might have for himself in this wasteland of a day.

"That's alright. I've got stuff I gotta do too."

He didn't, but it was all he could say to buy him some time. He walked the long walk to his car in the complex parkinglot and sat for some time in his car before he started it.

"Well, where to now?"