Aug. 06, 2004 - 22:04 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

English Bruce

Like a babe taking his first tottering steps, awed by the wonder of it all, I found myself in the midst of a motley group. About as motley as can be found I think.

Recently dried out and pointed toward AA, knowing that by myself alone I was helpess and would soon be living in the bottle again, if left to myself.

So other than going to work and sleeping my time was spent at AA. After a few meetings, sitting at the table and hearing parts of my story told by others fighting the same devil that was hounding me, I began to participate. "Hi, I'm Doug and I am an alcoholic." At the start, for me, those were hard words to listen to myself say. But I always had something to say along after that as most of us did. Occasionally that batch of words would be followed by, "I really don't have much to say, but I'm here and listening.

Sometimes I would just sit away from the table in an area where listeners would be, trying to soak up what I could. More and more those times I would find myself sitting beside a character that looked about as scroungy as I did. Interesting, he had an English accent, a mustache and a crooked finger and had a rapid hand at crocheting. He did beautiful work, never looking, just listening and crocheting.

Usually after the session at the table ended some of us would sit around drinking coffee and talking. More and more the Englishman and I would talk about most anything under the sun, he told me some of his personal history and I told him some of mine. I had some things to say of interest as well as he. A friendship began.

I was no longer living at home, by invitation after I had came out of Mount Airy I was living in an apartment just off Colfax below Colorado Boulevard which Rob had just moved from. I was still working, lucky me that I didn't lose everything like other folks in the same boat did so I batched it and made out okay. Living in my spare time mostly at AA, going to meetings trying to get my head straight.

One night at a meeting English Bruce asked me if I had any room to store anything for him as he was having to move from where he was living. He was living with an AA man and his wife and they needed him out for family reasons is what I think he told me.

It was still pretty cold but headed toward spring. I being a sort of cautious person, told him I had no storage space but he could sleep overnights in my clunky old van. Which he did for a time.

Our friendship grew and finally I asked him to move in with me. We made meetings together, he showed me around to other AA places in town. On nice weekends we'd get in my van and roam. I remember taking him from Idaho Springs up to Central City on a dirt road that I think was called the Oh My God Road. I have been on scarier roads, but I think it was high adventure for him.

He did his part around the apartment and I did mine. Didn't cost me much more for groceries as much of what I cooked for myself went to waste. Never did quite get the hang of buying for one, nor did grocery stores have much for a single person of my experience. He took over cooking and going to the store with me. As well, he swept, did dishes and dusted, took out the trash, etc. I don't think I spent as much per week overall while he was living with me than I did while living alone.

We both had an interest in music that meshed. And in other things our tastes were similar. We managed to have a bit of fun and live more or less a bachelor existence. Me a dumb, offbeat city boy and him a child of hard times from way back. But it worked for us.

It was that way for us almost a year. One day I was invited to live back at home. When Bruce came back from a walk I told him what had happened. He looked at me and said, "Do you want to go back home ?" I said, "If I hadn't turned into a drunk my home would have always been with Heather." He asked, "Will you still be here for a few days ?" My answer was, "Until the month is up Bruce."

The next day he told me that he would try to find a place elsewhere to live before the month was up. He did talk to me right off the bat, quite plainly, "Yunno mate, I can't go living at your house as it would interfere with you and hour wife getting back on an even keel."

I was overjoyed to go home but despondent about parting company with the man who helped me on the road to recovery from alcohol. Worried because he had no income of his own. Upset because he hadn't been able to get his green card so would be dependent on who he was living with for the most part. He did pick up a bit of cash doing odd jobs, enough to keep him in cigarettes and toiletry. But still.

I helped him move the boxes he had at my apartment to a place that would store them for him and at the end of the month we parted ways.

I would sit with him at AA and we would talk. But we didn't have much time to visit.

I was working my full time job and went back to working in the flower shop with my wife. Most of the time I would get a couple of hours of sleep and try to sleep over on Sunday. Didn't leave much time for meetings anymore. But Heather and I were fitting together quite well so time fled. When I would get a chance to drop by for a meeting Bruce and I would catch up and maybe have a bite to eat.

One day I had time to go to a meeting and went, no Bruce was there, no one knew where he had gone or had seen him since we had last been together at a meeting. I made a few meetings around town where he liked to go and never saw him again to this day.

We had about the same sense of humor. Liked to visit and talk, describe to each other how we grew up and all that. Parting was not well liked by either of us I think, but you know c'est la guerre.

When I first got back home there was no time for me to do the work I had to do and have time for anything else. Sunday was my only day off and my fun consisted of trying to stay awake and visit and getting laughed at as I would be talking up a storm and go to sleep between words. I would wake up and continue talking and was amused when they told me to, "Talk or sleep, but not both simultaneously."

How nice it would have been if Bruce had been able to get his green card, go to work, find an apartment and visit back and forth. There is an empty spot in my heart where he belongs, much as I would miss a brother. I still drop in at AA and try to find out if anyone has seen or heard of English Bruce . . . . . . . .

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