Between Two Lungs

Exhaling slowly, a mix of cigarette smoke and the air from Mae's lungs became visible in front of her face. It was six fifty-five, and she stood beside Jordan outside of 630 East 6th Street. The cigarette that hung limply between her index and middle fingers was slowly being reduced to ash.

"I really wish you'd quit smoking," Jordan sighed, pulling his coat closer to his body.

Mae took another drag and stomped out her cigarette butt. "I'm sorry," she said honestly. "It's just that...I'm nervous. Smoking just sort of calms me."

He motioned to the building's front door. "Are you ready?"

Mae closed her eyes momentarily, but then opened them with a new instilled sense of confidence. "Yes."

He took her hand and led her up the front steps of the colonial red-brick building. They walked inside and Jordan had to duck down as they made their way through the narrow front entrance. The melted snow on their shoes made their soles squeak as they made contact with the old hardwood floors.

"This way," Jordan motioned, seeing a Narcotics Anonymous sign made of paper hung up on the wall.

Mae followed the sign's arrow further into the building where she presumed the cafeteria was. She pushed open the heavy metal doors and saw a building no larger than her apartment with a refreshment table set up in the back, housing coffee and doughnuts, and rows of chairs facing a simple wooden podium.

A few other people were scattered around in the chairs, all facing forward. When Mae and Jordan walked into the room, a few of them looked back, but the others just kept to themselves. A man with a scruffy brown beard and a partial combover walked up to the podium and smiled at everyone.

"Hello, friends," he greeted. Mae and Jordan took seats towards the back of the room. "My name is Fred."

"Hi, Fred," everyone chorused.

Fred kept on smiling. "I see that we have some new faces with us today," he said, looking in Mae's direction. "Now, you don't have to feel obligated to participate on your first day if that makes you uncomfortable. Just know that we're here to listen to your story if you're willing to share."

Jordan looked over at Mae, whose eyes were firmly glued to the front. After a few seconds, she raised her hand. "Could I come up?"

"Of course," Fred replied, moving aside so she could take the podium.

Jordan's eyes followed Mae as she stood up and walked down the aisle to the front of the room. She looked around at the faces of about twenty-five people who had decided to show up that night and suddenly felt a wave of calm wash over her. These people were just like her--they all had a story, and they all had the opportunity to share. Finally, it was her turn.

"Start off by introducing yourself," Fred offered. Mae glanced at him and nodded.

"Hi, my name is Mae."

"Hello, Mae," came the unanimous reply.

"I've been using a few different kinds of drugs over the past few years," she began, clearing her throat. "It started off with weed when I was a teenager. Then it moved to 'shrooms, Benzos, acid, and then ecstasy. And I thought that the high that I got from the E was enough. But then some things happened and someone that I used to call my friend introduced me to heroin."

She took a pause briefly, looking at everyone. They all looked at her intently, hanging off her every word.

"I've only recently been able to come to terms with the fact that I have a problem," she continued. "I'd been avoiding the facts ever since I was a kid. When I was ten, my seven year-old brother got hit by a car and I blamed myself for it. I started acting out. My anger was uncontrollable. And then I left home when I was just eighteen, and then everything sort of got out of control from there. I'm here because I want to be better. I'm sick of running from my problems for the first time in my life. I want to control myself, not have the drugs and the wanting control me."

From the back of the room, Jordan smiled. And then he stood up and clapped. And so did everyone else. Fred came back up to the podium and hugged Mae in a fatherly way, which she gladly returned.

"Here," he said, handing her a white tag on a silver key ring.

"What's this?" she asked, looking down at it.

"It's your Newcomers tag," he explained. "It means a lot to us and to yourself that you came here today. This is to congratulate you for taking the first step to recovery."

She looked down at the white tag. It had the Narcotics Anonymous logo on it, with the word "Welcome" underneath it. On the flip side, it read, "Just For Today".

"The longer you stay clean, you're awarded with a new tag," Fred motioned to the others, who held up their tags as examples. She saw all sorts of colours--orange, green, red, blue, yellow and clear ones. "You're never alone," he reminded her. "No one will ever judge you here."

"Thank you," she whispered, hugging him again. She let him go as he started asking if anyone had any other stories to share. As she walked back to her seat, several people stopped her to shake her hand, or welcomed her to the program. Everyone had a smile on their face, clearly happy to just be alive.

She took her seat next to Jordan and watched as a boy who looked to only be about sixteen took the podium. He shook Fred's hand as he handed him a blue tag with pride.

"I know I've said this a lot, but I'm really proud of you," Jordan said into her ear. "You didn't have to share your story on your first day."

"I felt like I did, though," Mae replied. "I don't know why...but it felt...right."

Jordan grinned and placed an arm protectively around her shoulders. She rested her head on his shoulder and they listened to what the boy had to say.

"I've been clean for six months now, officially," he said jovially, his straight blond hair falling in front of his light green eyes. "I feel...alive. I can't express how much being here with all of you has helped me. I know that some of you might think that I'm just a kid who made some stupid choices. And you know what, you're absolutely right. But I feel like now, I can put those mistakes in the past. Going cold turkey was the best decision I'd ever made. So...thank you. All of you. For just listening when I needed someone to lend an ear."

Mae looked at the boy's face. She would have never known that he was an addict. He looked so happy and at peace with himself, as if nothing in the world could ever bring him down. He was still in recovery, but seeing him gave her hope. The sense that she could, over time, be normal.

She stood with the rest of the participants and clapped her hands together to congratulate the boy on his accomplishments.

For the first time, she felt like she was a part of something that mattered. Because the group was created to give people hope and to restore life to those who felt like it was deteriorating around them. And in the end, hope was really all she could have asked for.

"2010 is going to be a good year," she decided aloud. Jordan gave a nod.

"Absolutely."