Doctor Sleep

empty-handed. What have we got for her, Johnny?
    Well, Bob, Deenie didn’t win any money, but she’s leaving with our new home game, several grams of cocaine, and a great big wad of FOOD STAMPS!
    What Dan got was a whole month without booze. He did it, he guessed, as a weirdkind of penance. It occurred to him more than once that if he’d had Deenie’s address, he would have sent her that crappy seventy bucks long ago. He would have sent her twice that much if it could have ended the memories of the kid in the Braves t-shirt and the reaching starfish hand. But he didn’t have theaddress, so he stayed sober instead. Scourging himself with whips. Dry ones.
    Then one nighthe passed a drinking establishment called the Fisherman’s Rest and through the window spied a good-looking blonde sitting alone at the bar. She was wearing a tartan skirt that ended at mid-thigh and she looked lonely and he went in and it turned out she was newly divorced and wow, that was a shame, maybe she’d like some company, and three days later he woke up with that same old black hole inhis memory. He went to the veterans’ center where he had been mopping floors and changing lightbulbs, hoping for a break, but no dice. Don’t-give-much-of-a-shit wasn’t quite the same as don’t-give- any -shit; close but no cigar. Leaving with the few items that had been in his locker, he recalled an old Bobcat Goldthwait line: “My job was still there, but somebody else was doing it.” So he boardedanother bus, this one headed for New Hampshire, and before he got on, he bought a glass container of intoxicating liquid.
    He sat all the way in back in the Drunk Seat, the one by the toilet. Experience had taught him that if you intended to spend a bus trip getting smashed, that was the seat to take. He reached into the brown paper sack, loosened the cap on the glass container of intoxicatingliquid, and smelled the brown smell. That smell could talk, although it only had one thing to say: Hello, old friend.
    He thought Canny .
    He thought Mama .
    He thought of Tommy going to school by now. Always assuming good old Uncle Randy hadn’t killed him.
    He thought, The only one who can put on the brakes is you .
    This thought had come to him many times before, but now it was followed by a newone. You don’t have to live this way if you don’t want to. You can, of course . . . but you don’t have to .
    That voice was so strange, so unlike any of his usual mental dialogues, that he thought at first he must be picking it up from someone else—he could do that, but he rarely got uninvited transmissions anymore. He had learned to shut them off.Nevertheless he looked up the aisle, almost positivehe would see someone looking back at him. No one was. Everyone was sleeping, talking with their seatmates, or staring out at the gray New England day.
    You don’t have to live this way if you don’t want to .
    If only that were true. Nevertheless, he tightened the cap on the bottle and put it on the seat beside him. Twice he picked it up. The first time he put it down. The second time he reachedinto the bag and unscrewed the cap again, but as he did, the bus pulled into the New Hampshire welcome area just across the state line. Dan filed into the Burger King with the rest of the passengers, pausing only long enough to toss the paper bag into one of the trash containers. Stenciled on the side of the tall green can were the words IF YOU NO LONGER NEED IT, LEAVE IT HERE.
    Wouldn’t that be nice, Dan thought, hearing the clink as it landed. Oh God, wouldn’t that be nice .
    2
    An hour and a half later, the bus passed a sign reading WELCOME TO FRAZIER, WHERE THERE’S A REASON FOR EVERY SEASON! And, below that, HOME OF TEENYTOWN!
    The bus stopped at the Frazier Community Center to take on passengers, and from the empty seat next to Dan, where the bottle had rested for the first partof the trip, Tony spoke up. Here was a voice Dan recognized, although Tony hadn’t spoken so clearly in years.
    ( this is the place )
    As good as any, Dan thought.
    He grabbed his duffel from the overhead rack and got off. He stood on the sidewalk and watched the bus pull away. To the west, the White Mountains sawed at the horizon. In all his wanderings he had avoided mountains, especially the jaggedmonsters that broke the country in two. Now he thought, I’ve come back to the high country after all. I guess I always knew I would . But these mountains were gentler than the ones that still