Crash. Boom.
I figure it’s the neighbors, curse them in my head and try to fall back asleep. Crash-bang-thud. What the heck…is my roommate cleaning the kitchen?
Bang-boom-bang, it is incessant, not just a dropped a remote or something, but serious, heavy, menacing sounds. And they are not stopping.
I grab a cane, my only weapon, and my heart starts racing. The sounds are vibrating through the floor boards. Bill’s bedroom door is open, lit only by computer monitors, I grip the cane and peer around the corner into his room.
And it’s just Bill, standing there looking down at his computer.
-Bill, What the hell?
“Hey, what’s up?”
-What’s up? You’re making a lot of noise, I thought someone was wrestling you and I would have to bash them. What is going on?
He looks up at me and it’s then I can see his eyes glint, they are all pupils, dark and empty. He must have taken Ambien to fight his jet lag. My hands are shaking after the rush of adrenaline.
“Will you help me find the gatekeepers?”
I notice his pants are dropped to his ankles. Thank god the boxer briefs remain in place. And suddenly everything becomes clear, he starts stumbling back and forth, crashing in the walls, the desk, the heater, his balance obliterated by drugs and jeans. I grab him, he’s slurring.
-You’re okay buddy, everything’s cool.
“I know, I just thought of great name for my blog, it’s glanderesshskjg (unintelligible)”
-That’s awesome, let’s lie down on the bed.
“Two hours ago we were in Tokyo, where are we now?”
-New Orleans.
“What are we doing here?!”
-Trying to fall asleep.
“Where’s everyone else?”
-There’s no one else.
“There were 14 people here.”
-I am the only one here.
“What about me???”
-You’re here too.
(Looks at me suspiciously) “Who are you?”
-It’s me, it’s Adam.
“Then why are there three of you?” My grip on the cane tenses, I can’t trust him right now. But he laughs this off.
I get him some water, which he drinks with heaping breaths and immediately starts hiccuping like the drunk in an early Irish novel. This is so Fear and Loathing in New Orleans, I can barely believe it.
“We’re on the cusp of (hiccup) summer.” The hiccups continue incessantly for the duration of this story.
-It’s going to be the best summer of our lives but right now we have to relax.
“I want to be so rich I won’t have to ask uncles and aunts for anything. If you go over by the computers, aunts and uncles pop up out of nowhere, does that happen for you?”
-Yeah, but right now we’re going to fall asleep.
This conversation goes on for an obscenely long time. I slowly realize that I am an active participant in a dream, which is a mind bending.
-We’re gonna watch The Girl Next Door.
“Never heard of it.”
-It’s one of your favorites.
“Oh, I love it. What?”
He’s relaxed but his hiccups are starting to make my stomach hurt and, quite frankly, they’re ruining my enjoyment of the film.
After getting spooked that a doorbell in the movie was real life, he starts to wind down and eventually he’s sleeping soundly. I hang out for awhile to make sure he doesn’t get up. Back in bed, I can’t sleep, wondering what will happen if he doesn’t wake up, wondering how I’ll explain to his father that I didn’t call an ambulance, that my intuition said he would be fine.
The next morning he doesn’t remember a frame of it, but after hearing what happened he has sworn off Ambien.
