THE MERRY GO ROUND

He woke to the sound of the alarm clock clanging like a siren at a firehouse.  His head throbbed as he tried in vain to reach the wretched thing.  He moaned and cursed aloud at the dreaded clock that wouldn’t shut its mouth.  His hands fumbled for the square bottle of Gin, which had slept with him and grasped it by its neck.  With one deft blow he ended the life of the sinister clock once and for all.  It died with an abrupt clank as its bell and clapper fell uselessly to the bedroom floor.  Throwing his legs over the side of the bed then slowly opening his eyes was pleased to see he hadn’t broken the bottle.  He unscrewed the cap, kissed its mouth and accepted the fluid inside with relief.  But the Gin had turned against him too!  He could feel the juice rising to his oesophagus.  He quickly stood up … then realized it was not a good idea at this point.   The room started to spin. Slowly at first, then it picked up speed.  It felt like being on a Merry Go Round at an amusement park.  Dropping to his hands and knees he hoped the direction he was now crawling in was toward the bathroom and not the bedroom closet … again!  He crossed the vast empty plains on his bedroom floor.  From a distance his hand grabbed the handle of the door and twisted the knob.  The smell of disinfectant and body wash hit his nostrils and made the stuff boiling in his stomach rush even faster to his throat.  Now, unless he started storing the detergents in his bedroom closet, he was in the sanctuary of his bathroom.  He gently raised his head to get his bearings.  The toilet was like five kilometres away!  He didn’t think he’d make it there in time…. AGAIN.  He belched and the items in his stomach were now ready to make their grand entrance.  Mercifully He reached the toilet and raised the lid just in the nick of time.  For the next three minutes he spoke drunkenness to the bowl. This was how Mr Mikey Michaels woke up this brand new morning.  Mikey spent last evening riding the Sloe Gin Fizz.  Then enjoyed the company of Mr Jack Daniels.  Chasing both events with Mr Miller and his good friend Johnnie Walker Black. He pulled a towel from the rack above the toilet and ended his conversation.  The flush brought the throb back to his head with a vengeance.  He closed his eyes and reached for the sink to his left.  Slowly, very slowly, he pulled himself to a half standing half slouching position.  His brown hair fell in greasy strings in front of his face.  Mikey blinked to focus his eyes while he produced a jaw cracking yawn before taking stock of himself in the mirror.  Staring back at him was a forty - six - year old.  His eyes, surrounded by deep crows feet, were chestnut brown but last nights drinking binges had left them red, painful and puffy.  Wiping his mouth, he allowed his fingers to gently pull at the bags to reveal the thousands of red veins now occupying the whites.  His skin was the colour of unbleached flour.  With the strength of two men he reached for another hand towel then began to wipe his face.  It took equal strength to open the medicine cabinet.  It was a regular pharmacy in there!  He had every pain reliever, sleep inducer, and weight controller he could purchase from the medical professionals at the country hospital.  Belching loudly, Mikey began his search.  He found his preferred pain killer and whispered a sigh of relief because he was able to find them on the first try.  His hands trembled slightly causing him to drop several of the little blue pills into the sink.  Frustrated, he tossed them to the floor and gingerly picked up three of them from the sink.  He turned on the faucet and turning his head sideways, drank deeply.  The cold water tasted very oily in his mouth like he gulped some of his mother’s Extra Virgin Olive Oil but still he drank deeply. He stood up forgetting he hadn’t closed the cabinet door and banged his head into a mirror! The clash with the cabinet door made him plop down hard in front of the sink.  Fresh, intense pain registered in his brain and raised a small bump just above his forehead.  Now he had two pains which the little blue pills would have to relieve. Thankfully the room was no longer spinning.  He was able to stand, wobbly at first, but the more he stood the straighter he walked.  He slammed the medicine cabinet shut and grasped the sink to steady himself.  He looked again at his face.  The bump, just in his hairline was starting to turn a deep blue.   When he arrived home last night, he neglected to remove his clothes and had gone to bed in them.  Of course they were now terribly wrinkled and smelled of sweat and liquor.  This would be a good time for a sick day and his mind agreed with him wholeheartedly. Leaning against the door of the bathroom he surveyed the bedroom for damage.  Except for the dead clock and the bottle of Gin, which was gurgling its contents on the floor, everything seemed intact.  Clutching the door jamb he steadied himself then headed for the bed again.  Half way there his body betrayed him and began to sway.  He fell face first on the bed and tried to crawl to its centre as the room started to spin again.  That Giant Merry Go Round started up and the Barker was shouting for everyone to have their tickets ready.  He figured he’d just ride the ride and wait for someone to take his ticket. Then he passed out. The celebration that place Mikey Michaels in the state which he now found himself had been going on for two days.  It was, literally, a Two day party. He was so deep in unconsciousness the light bleeping of his phone never registered.  But now his ear picked up the tone and gradually began to send the information to his brain.  His brain fired certain receptors which caused his eyes to flutter and he realized it was some sound which was vaguely familiar.  He slowly sat up and looked around the darkened room.  The sound stopped.  It took him a few seconds to get accustomed to the darkness as he gingerly slid to the edge of the bed and was relieved that he was nearly sober. Later in the evening, he was sitting in his recliner, clothed in nothing but a cotton robe, in front of his big screen T.V.  sipping a glass of orange juice.  The huge Plasma screen lit up with High definition at the press of a button.  He surfed through several commercials and some night time soap operas before landing on his favourite news station.  ‘Good evening, the forty - something Lynette Francis began.  He liked this news Anchor.  Her voice oozed with authority.  Her long trade mark hair conveyed a sense of wisdom while her questioning gave her an air of intelligence.  Mikey like the blue print tie, Terence April, the other news Anchor was wearing tonight.  He made a mental note to find a similar one at the Clothing Barn across town.  He sipped deeply from his juice.  Snuggled back into the chair and pulled the lever on the side.  His legs popped up and he finished off the O.J. On tonight’s “Hotspot“, the Anchor continued,  “We were warned about the deadly outbreak of Listeria in polony factories, now we have to be aware of the Corona virus doing its rounds in China.  The Corona virus had killed over 400 people in China….” Corona mmm my word, isn’t that the drink Jerry was serving Us…that can’t be right.  Mikey arose from the recliner and made his way to the refrigerator and opened the door.  There on the second shelf of the fridge laid two bottles of Corona Spritzers. Imagine … What in the world was that ?  He clicked off the T.V.  and pondered the idea for a moment.  His legs were stronger now and he walked to the window.  The evening sky was blood red.  Below the streets were sparsely populated.  In the distance the moon was raising.  He put his forehead on the glass and relished its coolness.  A new day had come and gone.  His stomach growled.  He wondered what was there to eat, he dialled the number he new easily to order his favourite takeaway.  The sweet lady’s voice on the other end of the line answered, “Tiago’s Smanya speaking, how may I help you?… You never forget your first Flame?” “Its always better to have a Good Run than to have a Bad Stand.”