Breach

How did I get pulled into this mess again?

Antony is currently leaning over a trash can located in the park. He upchucks for the second time this evening then stumbles back into my open arms. I barely have the power to keep him up. The man is so out of it that he can hardly stand.

It’s pathetic. I should leave him here and let him be but…I can’t…not after what he told me. Though it was accidental he did share with me the current predicament he finds himself in.

A divorce.

Sure he isn’t the child but it’s a divorce nonetheless. He feels pain for it as well and that alone makes me feel…feel obligated to take care of him. He’s hurting and it just so happens that drinking is how he’s dealing with it.

Obviously not the best option but to be honest I can’t think of another way for him to deal with it either.

I should probably mention when he said it to me huh? Well as usual Malcolm kicked me out of Frankie’s around midnight once it started getting rowdy. Antony had left a few minutes earlier, so we thought. Turned out he was sitting outside the bar in a daze. He was too drunk to be capable of walking.

I asked him if he could go home and he kind of just…let it spill out.

“No! That damned bitch won’t let me back in,” Antony slurs. Though his words come out jumbled he’s quite easy to understand. “She says I work too much, y’know? That bitch always complains ‘bout the dumbest shit. I work hard! I work to get her that damned apartment and her fancy diamonds and her fancy clothes but am I appreciated? No!”

By now Antony is up on his feet, swaying from side to side. He’s attracting too much attention and…well…public intoxication is illegal. With people staring like this I’m sure someone will eventually call the cops or who knows with our luck one may drive by!

“Quiet down a bit,” I whisper to him, waving my hands. Antony completely ignores me.

“We were happy once…at least I think we were. Who knows, maybe we weren’t and she was pullin’ my leg this whole time that damned bitch! I…I loved her. I want us to be happy but we never are. I know a divorce is comin’. She’s gonna divorce me…I know it.” Antony finally falls to his knees, spilling the beer he had all across the cement. There are tears streaming down his face at this point, making me frown and lean down next to him. “Is it…does it make me terrible if I’ve given up on saving it? Should I keep tryin’ though it’s hopeless?”

Antony hiccups then looks to me for an answer. I shake my head immediately. I understand that some marriages just are hopeless. My parents are a perfect example. There is no saving their marriage.

“Sometimes people just aren’t meant to stay together forever,” I say to him in a soothing voice. I wish to calm him down and it appears to be working when he looks up at me with watery eyes. “It’s not the end of the world. My parents are getting a divorce too.”

“Really?” Antony appears amazed at hearing this, like he thinks he’s the only person in the world that may be getting divorced.

I nod. “Yeah…I don’t know if they’re hurting like you are but you’ll get through this. If you want, if you ever need someone to talk to I’m willing.”

And that’s how I wound up here, dragging Antony back to his apartment. At least I think that’s where we’re headed. He may just be walking around, trying to avoid returning home for a while. I don’t mind. I’m used to running on three to two hours of sleep.

“Are we almost there?” I ask, somehow managing to help Antony walk out of the park. The man nods, points down the side walk and continues on.

It doesn’t take us much longer to reach the apartment complex. Antony stumbles in and into the elevator. He drags me with him, pressing his finger a little too roughly against the fourth floor. I chuckle at how his eyes seem to light up while watching the numbers above the door blink.

“You see that?” He whispers into my ear like a child. “They blink.”

“That they do,” I hum. “That they do…”

Drunk people are funny. I wonder if there’s a job where I just watch drunk people. That’d be an amusing career wouldn’t it? I’d never get bored at work, that’s for sure.

Antony stumbles his way down the hall, using the walls to keep him upright. I follow behind him just so he won’t fall. We make it to a door and he begins searching his pockets for what I’m assuming to be the key…but it appears he doesn’t have it.

“Damn it,” he scowls. He digs faster through his pockets in hopes to find it but to no avail. So he proceeds to bang his head against the door.

“A-Antony,” I whisper, tapping his shoulder to catch his attention. “Please stop…your neighbors may hear you.”

“I need Jean to hear me,” he burps. “Let me in!”

I clasp my hand over his lips to silence him. There’s movement from within, stomping footsteps and then the click of locks. The doorway flies open to show a woman behind it, obviously furious. She has herself wrapped up in a comfortable purple robe.

From here I can see just how nice the apartment is. It looks spotless with a very in style of furnishing. Antony wasn’t kidding when he said he provided for them.

“Antony,” the woman huffs. She looks to me then to him once more. “Not only do you come home drunk again but you made a boy bring you…get inside right now before you wake the neighbors.”

“If I wasn’t kicked out we wouldn’t have had this problem,” Antony slurs, stumbling in as he does. The woman, I’m guessing Jean, doesn’t even bother to help him up when he stumbles over the shoes in the doorway. I wince at his impact against the floor.

“I’m so sorry…did he cause you a major inconvenience?” Jean questions. “Why am I asking, of course he did. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Oh no, no it’s fine.” I wave my hands and shake my head. “It’s obvious he was having a tough time and just needed somebody to talk to. I’m glad I could help.”

Jean frowns, apologizes once more for Antony. Slowly, she begins to shut the door while watching her husband on the floor.

I manage to get one last glimpse of the man. He’s sitting in the doorway like a kid who just got scolded with a curled bottom lip. It’s actually pretty cute. Jean is already scolding him for being irresponsible. As I listen to her I can’t help but think of my parents.

They sound like my parents. Even after the door is closed I still hear her bickering and Antony’s whines. It sounds different than when my parents argue but it’s that same feeling I get, that same gut wrenching feeling.

Antony and I…it appears we have a lot in common.

I have a feeling this isn’t going to be the last time Antony and I see each other like this.