The Skids, Challenge #146 (Mick, ficlet) -- PG-13

[librarian_7]

So, this is a little longer than the challenge prompt, #146 “Love Endures,” indicated, but hey, I’m going to put it out here anyway. No infringement of anything intended. Honest.

The Skids

Struggling back to consciousness, one arm flung over his eyes to keep the objectionable light of day out of his eyes, Mick groaned. Some days he hated the sunlight. Almost worse than the bright light streaming through the tattered curtains, though, was the smell. Stale beer, overflowing ashtrays, and the undertones of old sweat and clothes worn too many days.

And man, Stevie’s couch, had seen better days. There was a lump digging into his kidneys, and his feet were numb from being propped up to hang over the arm.

He was thinking that he’d left an inch or so in the bottom of the bottle of cheap bourbon he’d been drinking last night. It might be enough to get the taste of cigarettes and despair out of his mouth, and he ought to be able to find it if he swept his free hand down the floor by the couch. No luck, though. He only encountered a raft of empty beer bottles—dead soldiers, his father had called them, although that particular joke had lost a lot of its humor—and he winced at the sharp, glassy sound they made falling against each other. He finally found the bourbon bottle. Empty, from the heft of it. He didn’t hear any sloshing inside, either, and decided it wasn’t worth opening his eyes to make sure.

Ah well, he guessed he’d have to do without his hair of the dog. That was okay. It’d only make him feel better, and with what was floating around in his head, he didn’t want to feel good. He wanted to feel bad. Or at least to feel nothing.

He wanted Lilah.

But Lilah was not his. Could never be his again.

He’d never meant for it to happen. Never meant to betray Ray. His best friend, for God’s sake. Yeah, he’d thought Ray was dead. Everyone had. So what? Some ways, he thought that only made it worse.

He groaned. He was going to have to get up, he needed to piss like a racehorse. Then groaned again. That had been one of Ray’s expressions. He could still remember Ray first trotting that one out when they were in grade school, and the way they’d laughed until tears streamed down their cheeks.

He could feel a few tears in his eyes now, and he cursed himself again for being a pitiful excuse for a man.

He missed Lilah, the soft feel of her lush body against his, with a physical pain. But as bad as it was, it was almost nothing compared to the pain that washed over him when he thought about never seeing his friend, his best, truest friend ever again.

Six months. Six months of living on couches, trying not to think. Trying not to dwell on what he’d done. Which of course meant that he thought of nothing else.

Really, he’d been sure that by now, the pain would have faded, the guilt subsided. Apparently not. Obviously he needed to drink a lot more. Somewhere out there, there had to be something that would ease this knot in his gut. Maybe oblivion. Maybe, just maybe, a road out of this crap pit his life had turned into.

Hell, he hadn’t even seen his mother in two months. He didn’t like to risk going back to the old neighborhood. Might see Lilah. Or worse, Ray.

Yeah, this lumpy couch in this smelly dump was about what he deserved.

If he could only let go of it. Let the love he’d felt for Lilah, the deep friendship he’d always felt for Ray, just fall away. They could have their happily ever after, although he was selfish enough to wonder if either of them ever thought of him. If Lilah ever missed his touch, if Ray ever wondered why his best friend had dropped off the map.

He wished he’d never met either of them, he wished he’d been smart enough to keep his damn hands off her, even if he thought he was consoling a widow. Thought he was actually doing the right thing by Ray, taking care of his wife. He laughed, bitterly, irony overcoming him.

He let the empty liquor bottle slide out of his hand. Somewhere in the other room, Stevie was snoring—not an attractive sound, not at all. He wasn’t sure where he’d met the guy, wasn’t sure he even liked him very much. They’d played a few gigs together, and last night in a boozy haze, Stevie had said, musicians had to stick together. Mick could stay with him, long as he needed. Turned out, the place was a rat hole, not that he’d cared at the time. But hey, the couch was rent free; who was he to complain?

Maybe he could sleep some more, get past the worst of this hangover. Oh, yeah, sleep—and dream about Lilah, and Ray. He sat up, kicking beer bottles out of his way, scrubbing his hands over his face, grimacing at the rough feel of the stubble. Had he shaved yesterday? The day before? He couldn’t remember.

Someday, someday, he hoped this pain would go away. But he had a sick feeling, that it was going to be a long, long time. Because he was learning, that whether you wanted it or not, whether it was good or bad, love endured.

He was really going to have to find another drink.

[Fleur de Lisa]

This is brilliant, lucky. Love the phrasing and the attention to detail made me feel as if I could see the room Mick was in. And wanted to clean it up!

Seriously, this shows how our beloved Mick was a brooder from way back when. Punishing himself for something that was not within his control. Understandable that he feels guilty, but he is taking it to a whole other level. Ray was dead, as far as everyone knew. He was missing his friend, Lilah was mourning the loss of her husband, of course they would come together. They helped each other heal and come to terms with their common loss. If not for that, who knows the downward spiral either of them would have gone on? And I'd wager that Lilah fell in love with Mick as well. So, the thought of what she must be experiencing bothers me more than Mick's own feelings.

Then Ray came back from the dead.

Love this bc a short story well written yields a plethora of thoughts and emotions.
This did for me.

[allegrita]

This is absolutely brilliant. I can feel, see, hear, taste -- everything. And most of all, I can feel Mick's guilt and despair. Fleur's exactly right--Mick was always a brooder, and this Mick, a younger, more broken Mick, is definitely the same guy we met on the show... only the guy we met had some more experience, some more years under his belt, and a very good friend to help him through the dark parts.

I love this story.

[jen]

Lucky

This is absolutely fabulous!

Although we didn't see Mick go down this far, it is perfectly logical that he did in the aftermath of thinking Ray was dead and then the brief affair with Lilah. Mick, being Mick, would react like this.

He trapped in the downward spiral that Coraline would soon just add to.

Heartbreaking.

...and beautifully done!

Thank you!

Jenna

[librarian_7]

Thanks so much. Once I got the idea for this, it just poured out. I do think that Mick probably went through a very bad period, right after Ray came home. I'm guessing this would have been in 1945, 1946 at the latest. So, he had a number of years to go, and a lot of ground to cover, before he ever met Coraline. I'd speculate that he might have gradually pulled himself out of the gutter over time, possibly after having sunk a bit deeper. Nonetheless, he was still evidently a struggling musician with a penchant for hitting the bottle when things weren't going well for him, even in 1952.

I did want to add a slight linguistic note. I realize that some of our members might not understand the reference in the title. "Hitting the skids" is an American idiom for spinning out of control, hitting rock bottom, that sort of thing.

[francis]

Poor heartbroken soul. I can see that he had lost his footing, lost all his relationship in one go. Not even Coraline will be able to fully heal this.

[Fleur de Lisa]

Poor heartbroken soul. I can see that he had lost his footing, lost all his relationship in one go. Not even Coraline will be able to fully heal this.

....Nope. But can't you see her capitalizing on this?


And yes, I read it again, lucky! This resonates.

[Marigold]

Poor Mick. First he went through the pain of losing his best friend, and then he went through the pain and heartbreak caused by his best friend coming home. Add in horrible memories from the war, and feelings of guilt, and you get a very sad story.

Wonderful, Lucky!

[allegrita]

Back for a reread. One thing I really liked, that I didn't mention before-- a wonderful little touch of "RL Meets ML." We know that Alex went through a stretch of being so down-and-out that he became very well acquainted with the "pleasures" of sleeping on a friend's lumpy, too-short couch. It gives this story an extra bit of resonance.

[librarian_7]

I'll admit, Alle, that I did indeed have that bit of Alex's history in mind!

[diane31]

Wow Lucky this rings so true! I hadn't thought of him as hitting rock bottom like this after Lilah, I guess because I didn't see him as passionately in love with her, but it's clear that he loved her deeply, as he deeply loved his friend Ray. And yes knowing our Mick that he would find himself no excuses and feel the guilt so intensely makes sense; he's already our Mick.

I so feel pity for this younger Mick especially when he wonders whether he'll get out of this, and ponders the pain that still lies ahead. Knowing what's coming his way afterwards, this feels like just a starter in comparison, no matter how bad it is. He's lost two people he clearly loved like siblings, and for now his mother too as he's too ashamed to go home, and a few years from now we know he'll lose everyone for good, except of course the one person he'll adore but won't be able to trust.

Of course we don't know whether before Lilah, and between Lilah and Coraline, he has had happy, loving relationships too. But they can't have ended too well, or he would already have been married before Coraline got her chance. It seems to me more likely that these were indeed the defining loves of his life until Beth came along, and boy did he get unlucky both times!

And I totally agree that your description is amazing, you really transport your reader there, on that smelly couch with Mick!

Thank you!

[cassysj]

This is such a hard time for Mick.

[MickLifeCrisis]

How did I miss this last year? This was wonderfully written, Lucky. I was also transported to that lumpy couch in the smelly room. Mick was wracked with guilt over surviving when Ray didn't, falling for Lilah when he was just supposed to watch over her, being intimate with her and then Ray turning up alive after all... no wonder he took to drinking and couch surfing.

This fits so well with what we know of Mick. Well done!

[librarian_7]

Thanks for the bump, cassy!

And MLC, sometimes I wonder if even I have read everything in my office! Glad you found this one.