Keeping the Tarnished Read Free Page B

Bo?” Johnny asked curiously as he dipped his fries in a pile of ketchup comprised of about thirty ketchup packets. The booth they sat at was one of about twenty inside the large store. There were two rows of booths running parallel with the large windows in the front of the store.
    “I was born and raised in Biloxi. I been in treatment upstate for my drinkin’, and now I’m going to stay with my baby sister and my nephew in Lake Charles, and I thank the good Lord every day I wake up sober.” The old man had a mouth full of food, and it was obvious his teeth were not real.
    “The treatment was just for drinkin’?” Johnny enquired with obvious curiosity in his voice.
    “Yes, sir. It certainly was, but I imagine they got a treatment or therapy for just about everything. You just gotta want it,” Bo replied.
    “So, you wanted the treatment to stop drinkin’?” Johnny asked. “Did they give you medicine for it? How did it work?”
    Bo set his burger down and looked at Johnny with a stone cold gaze, and after a long pause, he answered the curious boy. “I spent over forty years in the bottle. I did things I ain’t proud of. They don’t give alcoholics no damn pills. They talk to ’em. Get to the bottom of the reason they drink in the first place. Of course I wanted to quit. I went there on my own account.”
    “Do you think they can actually fix a lot of problems with talkin’?” Johnny asked in a serious tone.
    “I do, I do, I do, my young friend. And those people that do the talkin’ make the big bucks,” Bo said in a friendly voice with a French fry smile.
    Just then, the driver came over the loud speakers in the store. “Attention, passengers. Scarf it down, let’s get back out there.”
    Like a prisoner that had just learned of the possibility of a pardon, Johnny rose from the A&W carnage with an extended sense of hope. Perhaps someday he would be free of his past’s prison completely, not only in body, but in mind as well.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
     
    Jackson
     
    The air was muggy, and the sweat stung Johnny’s eyes as it hastily invaded from his forehead. There was a light breeze on the air, but it smelled of exhaust and seemed almost suffocating at times. Johnny was walking down Interstate 10, headed away from the bus stop, as the bus had arrived in Lake Charles about forty-five minutes prior.
    It was almost six in the evening, and Johnny was completely defeated, walking aimlessly. The sound of the rocks beneath his feet only assured him he was physically desperate, and the situation was only going to get worse.
    How could he? There had been the talk of treatment, and the small chat the remainder of the ride. Johnny knew Bo must have done it when Johnny fell asleep. When the boy had awoken, both Bo and the remaining cash that he had in his bag were completely gone, taken right out of the side pocket of his book bag, envelope and all. Now he had nothing—no plan, and no money.
    His initial idea of finding a taxi to take him to the nearest recommended cheap hotel, or even a shelter, was now bashed. He was certain a good night’s sleep would improve the situation. Now that plan was stolen, along with his cash. Like an expanding wildfire in the dark of night, it was becoming increasingly clearer the dire state of his situation. The cars flying by him seemed to have little regard to his well-being or location. He was hungry, scared and had no idea where he was going to sleep once the sun went down.
    Bo had mentioned a place called The Salvation Army, and Johnny hoped that perhaps they could help him. Bo had said they had helped him in the past, but Johnny had no idea if anything that thieving bastard said was true. Up the interstate on the left was a Shell station with signs boasting a casino inside. Johnny thought perhaps someone inside would know where the salvation place was. He paid little mind to the speeding traffic. In fact, he paid little attention to any of the