The Guise of Another (30 page)

“Mom, I can't talk now, I—”

“Joey, you gotta come get me,” my mother screeched into the phone, the drunken slur in her voice melding her words together, making them hard to understand.

“Mom, I have to—”

“They fucking handcuffed me.”

“What? Who—”

“They arrested me Joey…they…those pricks. I'm gonna sue ‘em. I'll get the baddest fucking lawyer.” She yelled her words at someone near her. “You hear me you…you prick! I want your badge number. I'll have your job.”

“Mom, where are you?” I spoke loud and slow, trying to get my mother's attention back.

“They put me in handcuffs, Joey.”

“Is there an officer there?” I asked. “Can I talk to him?”

She ignored my question and spiraled from one unintelligible thought to another. “If you loved me you'd come get me. I'm your fucking mother god dammit. They handcuffed…Get your ass…You never loved me. I did…I didn't…I should just cut my wrists. No one loves me. I was almost home…I'm gonna sue.”

“Okay, Mom,” I said. “I'll come get you, but I need to talk to the cop.”

“You mean Mr. Prick?”

“Yeah, Mom. Mr. Prick. I need to talk to Mr. Prick. Just give him the phone for a second, then I'll come get you.”

“Fine,” she said. “Here, Prick. Joey wants to talk to you.”

“Ms. Nelson,” the officer said, “this is your time to contact an attorney, not your son.”

“Hey, Officer Prick, Joey wants to talk to you.”

The officer sighed. “You said that you wanted to talk to an attorney. You need to use this time to call an attorney.”

“Officer Prick won't talk to you.” Mom belched into the phone.

“Mom, tell him I said please.”

“Joey you gotta—”

“Dammit, Mom,” I yelled my whisper, “tell him I said please.”

A moment of silence, and then, “fine!” My mom turned the phone away so that I could barely hear her. “Joey says please.”

There was a long pause, but then the officer got on the phone. “Hello.”

I spoke quickly and quietly. “Officer, I'm sorry about all this, but I have a brother who's autistic. He lives with my mom. I need to know if my mom's getting released today because if she's not, I gotta go take care of my brother.”

“Well, here's the deal. Your mother's been arrested for DUI.” I could hear my mother cursing and wailing in the background. “I have her at the Mower County Law Enforcement Center to give a breath test. She invoked her right to call an attorney before taking the test, so she's supposed to be using this time to contact an attorney, not calling you to come get her out.”

“I understand,” I said. “I just need to know if she's getting released tonight.”

“That would be no.” The officer limited his response in a way that my mother would not hear what was in store for her. I played along.

“Is she going to detox?”

“Yes.”

“How many days?”

“Between two and three.”

“Then she'll be released?” I asked.

“No.”

I thought for a moment. “From detox to jail?”

“That is correct, until she makes her first appearance in court.”

Mom heard the word “court” and began to yell again. In her inebriation and exhaustion, her words swung and lurched like a decrepit rope bridge. “Dammit Joey…get down here. You don't love me…you ungrateful…I'm your mother. Joey, they…they…get down here. Get me out.”

“Thanks,” I said to the officer. “I really appreciate the help. And good luck dealing with my mom.”

“Good luck to you, too,” he said.

I ended the call and turned back around to see Janet and Mrs. Lorngren looking at me like I was a toddler who had just learned that dogs can bite. “I'm sorry about that,” I said. “My mother…she's…not well. I'm not going to be able to meet Carl—uh, Mr. Iverson—today. I have to take care of something.”

Mrs. Lorngren's eyes softened, her stern expression dissolving into sympathy. “That's fine,” she said. “I'll talk to Mr. Iverson about you. Leave your name and number with Janet and I'll let you know if he is agreeable to meet with you.”

“I really appreciate that,” I said. I wrote my information on a piece of paper. “I might have my phone turned off for a while, so if I don't answer, just leave a message and let me know what Mr. Iverson says.”

“I will,” Mrs. Lorngren said.

A block away from Hillview, I pulled into a parking lot, gripped the steering wheel with all my strength, and shook it violently. “God dammit!” I yelled. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Why can't you just leave me alone!” My knuckles turned white, and I trembled as the wave of anger passed through me. I took a deep breath and waited for the throbbing in my throat to subside, for my eyes to clear. Then, once I had calmed down, I called Molly to let her know that I wouldn't be able to work the door. She wasn't happy, but she understood. After I hung up, I tossed the phone on the passenger seat and began the long drive south to get my brother.

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