Now, completely refreshed and feeling all the more confident, having some semblance of her normal morning routine finally behind her, she opened the door and found the mother sitting on the bed, awaiting her completion. Both smiled and Tricia sat next to her, noticing a rather prominent gleam in the older woman’s eyes. She took both of Tricia’s hands in hers and half-turned towards her. As Tricia turned as well, she noted that the bedroom door was closed this time but she felt no sudden need to leave (replaced by the word ‘run’ in her mind). Both quietly sitting there a moment and looking into each other’s eyes, they suddenly knew and they started talking excitedly right over each other. * * * * * The boy completed his morning cleaning up and tumbled out of the bathroom with his hair looking a lot worse than it did going in but otherwise, pretty much presentable. What he hadn’t expected was to see his father seated in the chair which had held Tricia’s clothing a few minutes ago.. There was a little green man sitting next to me.“Are you a Martian?” I asked.“With an accent like this?” he answered, in a rich Irish brogue. “Care to share a drop of that whiskey?”I had five bottles. I expected two would be enough to kill me. I could certainly spare some for my erstwhile companion. I handed him the bottle and he took a swig.“Thank you kindly,” he said, “that’s fine stuff. Reminds me of my home country.”He passed the bottle back and I took another swig.“Tell me,” he said, “what’s a fine young man like yourself doing out here all alone on a night like this?”“But I’m not alone, you’re here with me, my friend.”“And I’ll stay as long as you keep sharing that fine whiskey. And perhaps you’ll share your story too.”“I’m here to kill myself.”“And why would you want to do that?” he replied, holding out his hand for the whiskey bottle.And so I found myself spilling my guts to a complete stranger, how the doctors had said there was nothing they could do for my little problem,.
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