The scuttlebutt according to George this morning is that Ferret is back on the streets and homeless. George’s cousin told him that Ferret started drinking again and Monte threw him out of the room he was renting at his house. This is terrible news as Ferret was doing so well with a job, taking his medications, and staying sober.
“That bastard ain’t never gonna learn,” George told me over the phone this morning. “Monte kicked his ass out after he came home so drunk he could barely stand up. Monte said he punched a hole in the drywall of the hall. He wasn’t too happy with that dumb son of a bitch.”
“Ferret is not a dumb son of bitch.” I told George, angrily, defending Ferret. “He’s just an alcoholic like you and I. He needs our help and not our scorn.”
George apologized profusely for his rash and callous words.
I tried for the longest time to get Ferret to go to A.A. with me, but he wouldn’t have any part of it.
“A.A. is for white crackers,” Ferret told me one day when I had asked him to accompany me to a meeting. “Black people take care of their own.”
Yeah, right. Monte threw his black ass out at the first sign of trouble and it was part of the condition for Ferret renting that room. He wasn’t to drink or raise hell and he must pay the $250 dollars a month in rent on time every month.
It is a sad day. Ferret will now go back to his old ways and friends down at the shopping center. He will no doubt once again pitch a tent by the river and sleep out in the elements. The saddest thing is that I and Ferret are a lot alike. We have an allergy to drinking and our lives spiral totally out of control after that first drink. I have seen the same thing countless times over these past few years of attending Alcoholic’s Anonymous.
The old timers of Alcoholic's Anonymous say you have to hit rock bottom before you can start to climb back up. I just hope this isn’t Ferret’s last time at the bottom of the heap. I don’t know if he has another recovery in him. I know I don’t and that scares the shit out of me and keeps me sober these days. The next time I “go back out” as they say in A.A. will probably be the last time before I die. I just hope that doesn’t bode the same for Ferret. It is going to be a long, hot, southern summer for him.