Chapter 2: The End of the World

A year has gone by since we left Alan in his small apartment.

Alan sat at the small corner table in the shabby, dimly lit bar. Taking a sip of his bourbon on the rocks, he almost spat it out. "Christ," he thought, "I can't even afford a decent drink, I got to buy this rot gut rail bourbon."

Alan had continued to crash and burn. He was working as a junior technician in the local hospital's medical testing lab. He was qualified for a much better job, but his continuing drinking problem had cost him three such jobs in the last ten months. He had been forced to relocate to Portland Oregon since he had pretty much exhausted any chance of a job in Seattle. He was lucky to have this job at the moment, since he had reported to work late three of the last five days.

His immediate supervisor was a 'Friend of Bill W.' and was working with Alan on addressing his drinking problem. But even this understanding man was about at the end of his toleration. He had told Alan that if he was late just one more in the next thirty days, he was out of another job.

Alan was listening to the old fashion jukebox playing a song by Skeeter Davis. He was listening to the words and comparing his own miserable life to that of the song.

Why does the sun go on shining?
Why does the sea rush to shore?
Don't they know it's the end of the world,
'Cause you don't love me any more?

Alan was just raising his hand to take another drink when a hand came over his shoulder and grabbed his wrist. A voice said, "Put it down you dumb shit. You don't need that."

Alan shot a glance over his shoulder and saw his supervisor standing there.

Alan pulled his arm loose and said, "Don't bother me. I'm off duty. As long as I show up on time for work tomorrow, you have nothing to say to me."

His supervisor sighed, "Alan, believe it or not I do have something to say to you. I'm a drunk just like you are. It's been three years, four months and three days since I last took a drink. I know what you are going through trying to give it up."

Alan smirked, "Give it up. Hell, I don't want to give it up. Getting drunk let's me forget how badly I have been screwed over. At least it lets me forget for a while."

With that he tipped the glass and drained the remaining amber liquid. He got the bartender's attention and held his glass up indicating he wanted another.

His supervisor looked at the bartender and shook his head. The bartender nodded and went back to wiping glasses.

Alan caught the exchange between his supervisor and the bartender and stood up, wheeled to face his supervisor and screamed, "Get out of my business. Just leave me alone!" He pushed his supervisor toward the door and then he turned to the bar and yelled, "You, bartender, damn you, make me another drink right now!"

The bartender stopped wiping the glass and sat it down on the counter. He looked at Alan and growled, "Buddy, I don't have to fix you shit! You're drunk again. Pay up and get out. I don't need any trouble from you tonight."

Alan was in an intoxicated fog. All he knew was these men were not allowing him to drink his memories away tonight. He was pissed about that. He stumbled to the bar and tried to grab the bartender by his shirt.

That was a bad move on his part. The bartender was an ex-NFL lineman who had blown out his knee in his rookie year. He dispatched Alan with little problem and called the police.

The cops who responded to the call took Alan to the station. He slept it off in the holding tank. They may have cut him a break, but he took a swing at the first blue suit he saw and they were forced to arrest him. They did cut him a small break by only arresting him for drunk and disorderly. They could have gotten him for taking a swing at a cop.

His supervisor was forced to fire him for not showing up at work the next morning.

One week later he had his day in court. He had been arrested for public intoxication over half a dozen times and the judge finally got fed up with his repeat offenses. He was sentenced to three months in the sheriff's rehab facility.

Alan accepted the regimentation placed on him by the rehabilitation team. He never complained or caused trouble, but he also never seemed to be interested in his surroundings. He went to the group and individual sessions as ordered by the court. He just didn't participate. He had been in the center for one month as we take up the story.

Alan's caseworker, Samuel Jenkins, was starring at him as he sat across the desk in one of the rehab center's private counseling rooms. "Alan, why are you being so stubborn? Just go with the flow and start actively participating in your sessions. You are a model inmate except for this stubborn attitude toward the folks trying to help you."

Alan thinly smiled and replied, "Mr. Jenkins, I try to do what I am told and not be a pain in the ass to any of the guards or workers here. But I just don't have the energy or desire to participate. Granted that I'm thinking clearer now than I was when I came into this place, and I feel the steady diet of healthy food has been good for me, but, you see, I just don't give a shit about my future. After all that has happened in my life, it's a wonder I just don't end this misery."

Sam Jenkins sat up sharply and looked at his charge in the eye. "Are you telling me you are contemplating suicide?"

Alan thought for a second and replied, "No, no, I'm not that crazy. Yet! I'm just saying that my use of alcohol is to deaden my memories of prior events in my life. I really don't even like booze, but booze helps me forget."

Sam studied Alan's face for a minute or more and then said, "Will you tell me about it? What has got you so depressed? Nothing can be that bad!"

At first, Alan resisted telling Jenkins anything. After several minutes of persuasion by Jenkins Alan finally relented, "Okay, okay, I give up! You want to know, I'll tell you."

With that Alan launched into his story about Aaron Walls, his ex-wife Kate, the framing of Alan by Aaron, and finally the stealing of his wife and son.

Sam sat still stunned by what he had heard and thought, "How can anyone be evil enough to do such things to this man?"

At first Sam refused to believe his Alan's story. Later that day after Alan had gone to his group session, Sam looked into Alan's dossier. What was there tended to support Alan's story. He had been married to a woman named Kate and they did have a son named Alex. The report also stated that Kate refused to even discuss her life with Alan other then to say she left him for cheating on her multiple times and she had the evidence to prove it. The report went on to indicate that she had remarried to a man named Aaron Walls the day the divorce from Alan became finally.

Sam chewed on Alan's story and the facts he had in his file. Sam thought, "My god, if this is true and it happened to me, I probably would have done myself in! Alan may be stronger than anyone has given him credit for. Sam finally decided that a new tact might dig Alan out of his self-destructive attitude. The rehab center called the inmates, "residents". Sam reviewed all of the residents' files looking for a certain type of man. He finally found what he was looking for in one Juan Jesus Martinez.

The inmates shared two-man cells at the rehab center. At night they were locked in. He was going to move Alan to a new cell with Martinez, a resident kicking a bad cocaine addiction. He brought Martinez in the day before the move and discussed Alan's case with him. "Juan, look, I know you have your own monkey on your back and are working very hard to clean up your act, but I need your help. And looking at your file, you can definitely help. You were a practicing psychologist before you took up coke, right?"

Juan nodded and stated, "Yeh, actually I was practicing before I went up for the two year stint on beating the shit out of my wife's lover. I lost my license with that felony. I took up coke during that stint in prison. It almost killed me this last year and I'm glad to be in detox."

Sam nodded his head and then explained to Juan what Alan had stated had occurred in his life. Juan's hands turned whiter and whiter and they gripped the arms of his chair as Sam repeated Alan's story.

Juan was aghast, "What a pile of shit this Walls guy is! Not to mention the low-class way the wife pissed all over this poor guy!"

Sam explained what he needed from Juan. Juan nodded several times and finally stood up. "Mr. Jenkins, don't worry. Give me some time with this poor bastard. I'll get him to face his life and take control of it. I might pity this Aaron Walls character when we get this guy's head screwed on straight!"

One month later —

True to his word, Juan succeeded beyond his wildest dreams to rehab Alan's mental state. Over the first week, he had gotten Alan to talk about his life. Alan had finally told him the whole story about Walls and Kate and his being framed. Juan told Alan his whole story about finding out about his wife fucking Juan's cousin's husband and how they had tried to screw him out of his money and property. He talked about how it took him several years but he had gotten revenge on the two adulterers by using some highly prized resources he had become friends with during his stint in prison.

He and Alan actually began to work on several revenge scenarios for Mr. Aaron Walls.

As Alan became more and more involved with Juan in planning for dealing with Aaron Walls, he became more involved in the day-to-day activities of the center. Alan was now not only participating in his rehab sessions; he was becoming a leader in making the sessions as productive as possible for everyone.

The reports from the center staff to Sam Jenkins became glowing and highly supportive of Alan's attitude in improving himself. It was obvious to everyone that Alan was no longer willing to hide in a bottle of alcohol.

One day Sam Jenkins announced to Alan, "You're to be released from the center next Monday. You have made remarkable improvement in your outlook on life. Do you think you are ready to leave?"

Alan pondered the question for several seconds and replied, "Yes, I am. I feel more like a whole man now than I have in many dark months. I can face my past without hiding away in a bottle. I am looking ahead to resolving the domestic issues remaining in my life and making a new start."

Sam Jenkins stood up and stuck out his hand to Alan, "Best of luck to you. And we hope we never see you around here again!"

Alan shook his hand and returned to his cell. Juan was reading a magazine when Alan returned. Juan raised his eyebrows in question and Alan laughed. "Monday I'm out of here."

Juan jumped up and shook Alan's hand. "That's great. Now let's start getting your travel pack ready." The 'travel pack' was a small knapsack containing almost a ream of paper outlining different ways to get back at Mr. Aaron Walls. Some other papers pertained to Alan's ex-wife, Kate and son, Alex. Juan and Alan had worked out scenarios to win back Kate and recover his son. Other scenarios involved making her pay dearly for her lack of trust and failing to even talk to Alan about his supposed cheating. In all cases, except one, Alan would end up with his son back.

Monday morning came and Juan stood in front of Alan with his hand on Alan's shoulder. "Via con dios, my friend. You are now a fully restored man. Go do what you have to. Make your decisions on which of our plans to use as your heart guides you at the moment.

Alan nodded his head and said, "Yes, I will take that advice. But right now I have to get a good paying job to make the money I need for doing any of these plans. I've apologized to my old supervisor and he has hired me back at the hospital lab. He says if I keep my nose clean, he can offer me a supervisor position in about six months."

With that Juan and Alan parted company. Alan was released on probation and went back to work at the hospital lab. For the next few months he was diligent and applied himself to reviving his career. One day he received a call from Juan.

"Juan, how are you my dear friend?" Alan asked when heard Juan's voice on the phone.

"Alright my good friend. And you?" Juan replied.

"Doing well. I am in line for that promotion. I hope to have enough money together to implement one of our plans in a few more months."

"Alan, I have done something awful. I started using again and got caught up in a drug deal that went very bad. I, I ... I killed a man. I am being held at the county jail on remand." Juan stuttered out.

Alan was shocked and tried to soothe Juan's emotions. "Look Juan, why don't I come and visit you and let's talk. What times are your visiting hours?"

Juan told him and the next day Alan went to visit his now best friend. They sat at a table in the visitor's area.

They spoke at length about Juan's legal problems and Juan admitted that he deserved a long sentence for what he had done. They also spoke about Alan's problems and Juan said hoped he had truly helped Alan revive his life. Alan smiled broadly and said, "My good friend, if it wasn't for you, I would probably have been dead by now. Thank you for your help."

Juan was tried and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. He was whisked away to the Snake River Correctional Facility to begin his sentence.

Alan tried to visit him at least once a month. In the second year of his imprisonment, Juan sat discussing prison life with Alan through the wire mesh screen in the visiting area. Juan heaved a sigh and said, "Alan, there is something I must tell you. I'm dying. I have an inoperable brain tumor they tell me. I'll be dead within six months. I need for you to do me a favor. The State will bury me. I've got no family and so no one will attend my burial. You're my only true friend because we share much of the same life experiences. Will you come to my funeral? As my friend? I'd like to know someone was there who would remember me."

Alan didn't hesitate, "Yes! Of course I'll be there. We are true friends. I - I'll miss you. You've done so much to straighten me out."

Less than three months later Juan died.

Alan contact Sam Jenkins at the rehab facility and let him know that Juan had died. Sam promised to let it be known to people that Juan had helped. The funeral was the next day at 2 PM in Ontario Oregon where the prison was located.

Alan and the prison officials were surprised when at 1:45 cars began arriving. Some held men, some women, some couples. All were there to pay their respects to a man who at one time or another helped each of them through a major challenge in their lives. Well over a hundred cars were parked in every possible spot when the service started. Two members of the clergy who had been aided by Juan in the past, took over the service and gave him a proper funeral.

Alan spent the night in Ontario since he didn't have to work the next day. He felt a little time to say a private goodbye to his friend and a sound night's sleep would be good for him.

Early the next morning, he began the drive home. As he was leaving town, he notice his gas gauge. The car was nearly empty. He pulled into a H-R gas station and the attendant ran out to his car. (Oregon was one of two states that still required a pump jockey to fill a car) Alan told him to fill it up.

Alan went inside the station and grabbed a cup of coffee and a donut, the station attendant came in and went behind the counter to the cash register and said, "With the gas, coffee and donut, your total is $37.80."

Alan pulled two twenties from his pocket and handed them to the attendant. He opened the cash register and looked a little embarrassed. He asked, "Do you have a credit card? Maggie isn't here yet with the morning's cash drawer."

Alan shook his head, "No, I lost the use of my credit cards a long time ago."

The attendant said, "Look man. Here's a deal. I'll give you two Powerball lottery tickets and two dimes. Okay?"

Alan didn't feel like arguing so he dais, "Fine. It makes no difference to me."

He jumped in his small pickup truck and threw the gas receipt and the lottery tickets into the center console. Over the next few weeks he threw more gas receipts into the console.

One morning Alan was watching the local news on his small TV as he ate his breakfast before leaving for work. The newscaster said, "Here's an interesting story. The Powerball jackpot had a winning ticket issued in Ontario Oregon three weeks ago. So far no one has come forward to claim the one hundred and twenty million dollar prize. The ticket was sold at an H-R gas station. The owner of the ticket has another five weeks to claim the prize. If not claimed the..." Alan flipped off the set.

Alan left his apartment and jumped in his truck. He rummaged through his console and found the two tickets the attendant had given him as change. He drove to work and almost ran to his office workstation. He logged on and pulled up the Powerball web site.

He found the entry for the week the lottery was won. He pulled out his tickets and looked at the screen and he first ticket.

His hear sank. No. Not even close.

He flipped to the next ticket. The first thing he saw was that the first three digits on the ticket were the same as those displayed on the screen. His heart began pounding. Number after number was the same. He got to the Powerball number. Identical!

My god. I won the lottery! Oh shit. What am I going to do? After all of the shit in my life I can now ... Now what? Now do what Juan and I planned. Juan, my dear friend, Thank you for everything.

One Year Later —

Alan arrived at the BWI airport and rode the shuttle bus to pick up his rental car. He had reserved a suite at the Holiday Inn in Gaithersburg. He really did not need a suite, but he needed the space for his war room activities. This was to be his command center as he sought his personal justice for Aaron and Kate's actions.