" My name is Marjorie and my father 's an alcoholic , " I said . I was standing in the basement of the brick church off Elm . I had been in this church once before , a while ago . I went to an afternoon service with a friend and her family . I thought I 'd be able to find the meeting easily only it turns out the way to the basement is through the back door . I didn 't know that . And there weren 't any signs . An older man asked me what I was doing . I was just sort of standing in an empty hall with a piano in the corner and a lot folding chairs piled up . I wasn 't sure what to do next . I was thinking about leaving . He didn 't give me a chance to answer . He said , didn 't even ask , just said , " If you 're here for the Nar - Anon meeting you 're going to have to go outside , walk back , and enter that way . " So that 's what I did . Now I 'm here but I 'm starting to get the feeling this whole thing was a mistake . Our high school guidance counselor was the one who recommended I come here . I told my mom I was going to the movies . First off lets get it straight why I went to the guidance counselor in the first place . I didn 't go to talk about my dad or to cry or whatever , I went because I 'm applying to colleges . Good ones because I 'm smart , that 's what the guidance counselor said . She said , " Marjorie , I know you 're bright and I know you work hard and the colleges will see that , too . " She said , " You 're going to get very good scholarships to very good schools . " She said , " I 'm positive . " She told me how I 'm going to be a Franklin High success story , how I 'm going to make our town proud . I don 't know about that . Though I do know not much tends to happen or change here . People in this part of Maine , the interior , like to stay put , plant themselves in . That 's what mom says . And I think it 's pretty much true . After the first meeting with the guidance counselor I wrote down all those good things she said in my diary that night , even though it felt a little wrong , self - indulgent . When I was in her office and she was going on with it all , praising me basically , something warm shot up through me light and good like sunshine . It almost hurt my face not to smile . It was like I was trying to hold back the leash of a very strong and excitable dog . She asked me if I wanted to go to school in state or out of state . She said out of state is more expensive but she could nearly guarantee I 'd get a full ride . She kept saying that , a full ride . The more she said it the more I enjoyed hearing it . As if soon I would be buckling up , getting ready to take a long trip to the moon or to sail around the world . I was about to go on a full ride . She told me not to think too much about money , that we could sort through that later . For now she just wanted me to narrow in on what sort of college I 'd like to attend . Big or small . Urban or rural . That sort of thing . The guidance counselor made it all seem so easy . I could tell her what I liked and what I didn 't like and then she could just put me there . As if what I like is the only thing that matters in the world . It was when she asked if my parents were proud , she said that at the end of our hour . I guess I should 've probably just said Yes . It was that sort of question . A wrap - up question , a polite send - off . She couldn 't have been expecting any sort of real answer . I don 't know why I didn 't just say Yes , smile and then let myself out , that 's what I was supposed to do . What she was expecting . Instead I sort of laughed and said , " My dad could give two cents . " It was a stupid thing to say . Inappropriate . It was one of those things you only say if you 're looking for something , looking for help or whatever . And I swear I wasn 't looking for anything , it had just popped out . I had a bad habit of letting sarcasm pop out , the same way some people accidentally let burps escape after they drink warm soda or even just because . The guidance counselor got some look on her face , narrowed in her eyes . She turned her chair away from her desk , which was against the wall and faced me directly . She crossed her legs , leaned back and bit her pencil . After I told the whole room of strangers that my father was an alcoholic I sat back down on the folding chair and crossed my arms over my chest . The man sitting next to me stood up , he must have been in his late thirties . He said his mother was an alcoholic . I thought he was pathetic . I thought most of the people in the room were pathetic actually . I hadn 't expected to be the youngest one . Not that I had given it much thought to begin with , but I guess I just assumed that the people would be about my age . Young . In high school or middle school . At an age when they actually need their parents for one thing or another . Why did a thirty year old need his mother not to be an alcoholic ? Why did it matter to him ? I couldn 't wrap my brain around that one . Mom said it 'd be fine if I went out of state . She said it 'd be good for me to get out . Mom was just about the only person I knew who hadn 't grown up in Cording . She grew up on the coast , four hours east . Her father was a fisherman and died out there when she was a girl . There 's a picture of him standing by a horse in the hallway . What dad will say , if he gets to talking about it , which is rare , he 'll say , " I found your mother living in the Motel 8 with a St . Bernard and a pile of books . " He says that she had gone running away from her fiancé . A high school sweetheart , mom says . Mom says she knew it wouldn 't have worked out but she didn 't know what else to do , what else there was . She says her mother wanted her to marry . Everyone just assumed it was going to happen . Once dad said , I remember , he looked at mom and said , " Going to that Motel 8 was the smartest thing you 've ever done . " I had brought my legs up , had my feet on the edge of the chair and my knees covering my chest . She had told me to make myself comfortable so after a while I did . I had started to hug my legs a little . My backpack was on the floor . Mom said I was too skinny for my own good , but I liked it . The way I was turning out . I liked how my hair was long and thick as a horse . I liked the way I could compact myself , fold my body up if I wanted to or how I could spread out and just be tall . I liked how I was turning out . I know most girls don 't say that when they 're my age , or aren 't supposed to at least , and it 's not like I 'd tell anyone , but it is what I thought . " How much does your father drink ? " The guidance counselor asked and I thought that was a pretty stupid question . What does how much matter ? You either drink or you don 't . You 're either a drunk or your not . You 're either dead or alive . You do it or you don 't . I didn 't even think it was possible to measure . How many cups did he drink ? How many ounces ? Of liquor or beer ? Does it count more if he 's drinking a glass of vodka at breakfast than if he 's drinking a glass after work even if it 's the same size glass ? Like I said , I thought it was a pretty stupid question . I told her I didn 't know . Then she asked what my mother thought of it . I said she worked around it . I said that 's what I do , too . Just work around it . I told her it 's not like I know any other way . It 's like the old men who drink at the Knights of Columbus , my dad used to drag me around there when I was younger , the ones who have a stump for a leg or whatever , they handle it . If you lose a part it 's a big deal in the beginning but after some time you handle it . You just adapt . I didn 't see how that mattered either . He had just turned off . It just didn 't matter to him . I got that . What else was there to say ? Anyway , it was about that time she recommended I go to this meeting . The man sitting next to me had been talking for over twenty - minutes about how his mother only bathes herself every five or six days and that 's after he practically begs her to . I mean that was the only thing he was going on and on about . His sixty year - old mother 's bathing habits . I didn 't understand why he wasn 't just getting to it . Getting to the point . It was like he kept dodging it , running around in these inane laps . Just say it , I thought . All he had to say was he was sad because he doesn 't think his mother loves him enough to care about herself . That 's all he had to say . Not all this stupid bathing , moo - moo wearing nonsense that he was just jabbering on and on about endlessly . I was narrowing in on Boston and I think that was only because of the movie Good Will Hunting , which I rented from the video store practically every Friday night for two months solid . Mom said it was getting ridiculous . She even offered to buy me the movie . When she said that I said no , I didn 't want to own it , I told her this was the last time I planned to rent it anyway . So after that I stopped but I still found myself thinking about it from time to time . It wasn 't the actual storyline that I liked though that was fine ; it was the background . I enjoyed watching the background . It made me feel comfortable and warm . The old sweaters the characters were wearing . The colors of paint on the walls . The stacks of books in the corners . The picture frames . Coffee mugs . I wanted to find that background and put myself in it . That 's why I told the guidance counselor , during our second meeting , I wanted out of state . I wanted Boston , I said . She was scribbling down some note on her desk and gave out a long smile when I said it , like I had answered a difficult question correctly . Like I had decided to join her club . It 's not as if my dad 's a bad drunk , that 's something most people don 't understand about drunks , there all different kinds . I know about bad drunks . Luke 's dad two houses down is a bad drunk . I know . Dad will go over there himself if it gets real loud . One time it was so loud it woke me up . I had fallen asleep on the couch . I must have been in elementary school . I fell asleep with my head in my dad 's lap . I remember that . Dad was watching some history program . Or at least that 's what was playing on the television . " What 's that ? " I asked , arching my back and raising my arms up in a stretch . I was tired , didn 't know what was going on . If I had put together that the sound was coming from Luke 's house I probably wouldn 't have said anything , I know when to keep my mouth shut . Dad said , " I 'm going to see if everything 's alright . C ' mon . " He never told me to come on , so it was a surprise but a good one . I didn 't even have time to lace my sneakers or get a coat . Mom must have been in her room because she wouldn 't have let me go if she was around . Especially without a coat . It was cold but I wasn 't bothered by it . I followed Dad down the road , had to hurry to keep up , but I kept behind him . When he walked up Luke 's front stairs I stayed back on the sidewalk ; thought that was best . There was more yelling and throwing and finally the door opened . It was Luke 's dad and he was red and steaming . He looked like some half boiled lobster just pulled from the pot . " Just want to make sure everything 's okay here , Bob , that 's all . Heard some noise down the way , just wanted to see if everything 's okay . Dorothy here ? The kids ? " Dad walked down the front stairs to the sidewalk . I wasn 't sure if he was going to say anything to me about it or not so I just stood there waiting . His face changed . He said , " I 'll you carry you home on my back , kiddo . " After the meeting , which I thought was a complete waste of time I had to drive an hour west to Auburn and pick up dad from the protest . I had agreed to that condition when mom let me take the car out in the first place . Dad was in the Union and every once in a while he 'd have to drive out somewhere and picket with the other workers . Dad hated it , but he did it anyway , said it was all part of the job . See , that 's what I 'm trying to say here , what the guidance counselor doesn 't understand , my dad may be a drunk but he gets his work done . He does his part . There 's a big difference there . A big difference from a lot of the other fathers . Dad 's a turn - off drunk . That 's just what he is . He drinks enough in the morning so he can go to work and get his job done . Dad always goes to work . Goes to the grocery store . Mows the lawn . He does the things he 's supposed to do . Then later , afterwards when he comes home , well then he keeps on drinking . He 'll set the bottle of vodka on the coffee table and a glass next to it . Put a pack of cigarettes on the table , too . Sometimes mom will come in . Sometimes she 'll sit on the chair next to the couch and smoke a cigarette and watch what dad 's watching . Then she 'll get up and go into her room and do whatever it is she does in there . I 'm always at the kitchen table , doing my homework . I always do my homework . I do more than I need to . My teachers always say , " Marjorie , you go above and beyond . " I don 't do it for them though , for my teachers . I wasn 't even doing it to get into college , to get out of Cording and get a full ride to Boston . I didn 't understand that whole side of things when I was younger , when I would do extra projects and readings and papers for no good reason , that weren 't even assignments to begin with . I just did all that because , well , what else was I supposed to do ? I mean that . I honestly had no idea what else I was supposed to do every evening . So I just sat at the kitchen table and kept at my books . Thing is , I mean basically , if you want to get down to it , I know how it is exactly . Dad has to get drunk to do things . I get that . If he doesn 't drink he 'll be sick . And when dad doesn 't have anything to do , that 's when , like I said , he just keeps on drinking until he can turn - off completely . He just goes away . He doesn 't say a word , doesn 't get loud , doesn 't hit us , but he 's gone . I get that . But how 's that any different than mom going into her bedroom for all that time ? Or from me reading all those books at the kitchen table ? How 's it any different ? How aren 't we all going away ? That 's the main thing the guidance counselor doesn 't get , even though she said , " Marjorie , I know how it can be . " She doesn 't . The people in the meeting don 't get it either . They were all there because they were sad . Because they felt unloved . Well , the difference is I 'm not sad so I don 't see why I have any business being with those sorts of people in the first place . I don 't think I have much in common with them . That 's why I 'm not going to the meeting again . I don 't think it 's necessary . I parked the car on the curb about a block down from the protest , which was clear as day . There must have been about two or three dozen men standing around . Holding signs , holding styrofoam coffee cups , they were just standing around . They weren 't yelling out chants or marching , nothing like that . It almost looked like they had all just gone out to mingle with one another . " Heyyah Marjorie ! " A man yelled . Mr . Stinsky , he used to pick up dad for work in his blue truck each morning . He 'd come over for dinners some nights , when I was younger , with his wife . I remember that . They didn 't have any kids though they were about that age . You would have assumed they had kids at home . But they didn 't , I remember mom commenting . " How are you sweetheart ? " he asked , patting my back . " Boy oh boy you 're growing up . You 're going to give your dad a headache with all the boys chasing you , bet you 're already starting to . " He laughed , patted my back again . " Give it time , honey , " Mr . Stinksy went on . " Ah , hell , " he said looking up at the hotel . " You know you have to put in your time with these things . That hotel over there 's employing all these illegals to do the new wing , that 's why we 're here . Dad probably told you that though . I could give a damn , honestly . Yeah , you 're dad , he 's right over there somewhere . " Mr . Stinsky turned his head , squinted his eyes and pointed off into the crowd . Mr . Stinksy yelled out a goodbye as we walked passed . He yelled out to dad , " Lucky bastard , I 'm here for another hour . " Laughed . Dad gave a nod . I waved . We kept walking . When we got to the car Dad went around to the passenger side and got in there . I didn 't say anything , just got in behind the wheel and started up the car . I was pretty hungry but I knew dad wouldn 't want to stop anywhere . He would say it was fine if I wanted to get food , but I knew he wouldn 't get anything . I figured I 'd just wait until we got home . I could make a sandwich there . It 'd be easier . There was some traffic getting through the main road in Auburn . Bates in Auburn , it was a college town , you could tell that pretty quickly . It was different from Cording in a lot of ways . There weren 't any flyers in Cording , for one thing . I always noticed that . The different colored fliers stapled on top of each other on the telephone poles . There were coffee shops here , too . The kinds with blackboards behind the counters and all different colored chalk used to write up the menu items . There were board games and books piled in the corner . The sort of places that invited you to stay as long as you wanted , even if you had only bought a one dollar coffee . In Cording there was a Dunkin Doughnuts but I didn 't think anything about that place felt inviting , at least not for more time than it takes the average person to eat a doughnut . When I was younger , mom would take me into Auburn . If she had a doctor 's appointment that was out of Cording , something like that , if we were around the area . We would go to Cafe Bon - Bon and mom would buy me a sandwich and a smoothie . Mom would pick up the paper and read it while I ate . I remember that because mom doesn 't read newspapers at home . I didn 't ask her about it , but I remember thinking it was strange , that she read the paper . In fact , I wouldn 't say much at all . I was just happy to be there . I liked watching the students . I liked it there . I didn 't say anything to mom because I didn 't want to remind her I was there , that I was sitting at her table . I thought if she remembered I was with her it would remind her that she had to leave . That she had to go back home . Dad turned on the radio , which I was surprised about . Whenever I wanted to listen to the radio , to the stations I liked , he 'd let it go on for about two blocks before saying , " Please Marjorie , I just can 't listen to that noise . " He didn 't say it meanly . He just said it and I would turn it off . I started bringing my walkman and listening to tapes when we 'd go somewhere that was further away than the grocery store . Dad never commented . He turned at the dial until he got to a classical station . He listened for a second and then he brought his hand off the dial , rested it on his lap and leaned back in the seat . There was a song playing that was just the piano . There was piano and there was silence and the silence sounded just as loud as the piano . The piano keys dropped like hail on a moon roof . That 's what I thought of . Right in the beginning of the storm , before the hail comes down hard , right in the beginning when you hear one hit , then a space , then another hit , it was like that . I wondered if dad was thinking about the song , too . If he was even listening . I was stopped at a red light . I was the first car stopped at the intersection . There were two or three cars behind me . In front of me was the bridge crossing over the gorge , the gorge was to the right . Mom , Dad and I had gone hiking in that gorge the day after Thanksgiving a long time ago . I was young , really young , must have been five or six . Dad had to carry me on his back half the time . The trail was too much for me then . Well , we were just sitting at that red light when I saw the boy . Or man I guess . But he seemed young . He was a college student though . That much I know . You could tell by the way he dressed . In this messy sort of way that was still cool , I thought so at least . He had longish hair it was coming out of the bottom of his hat . He was walking like he had some place to be . I remember I was just listening to that piano song and I was watching him . I didn 't even think about where he was going . I never thought it was strange . I was just watching him . I wasn 't thinking a thing . Just watching . He crossed the street right in front of me . Right in front of the car . He turned and he looked at me . First he looked at the hood of the car then his eyes came up and he was looking right at me , but only for one second . But it happened , I remember that . I was embarrassed , I remember , because I knew dad must have noticed and I wondered if that boy had just looked at me or if he had looked over and I just happened to be there , where he was going to look anyway . I didn 't know which it was . It didn 't matter though because after he looked at me he brought his head right back down and then up to the place he was going , which was the side of the bridge over the gorge . He just walked to it , briskly , like I said , it was like he knew exactly where he was going . Like he had a clear destination in mind . He didn 't pause . There was no hesitating about him . He just walked to that railing on the other side of the road , the railing that looked down into the mouth of the gorge . He gripped the rail with both hands , brought his head down into the gorge , swung his body up and over and he was gone . He was just gone . I didn 't get it at first . What had happened , I didn 't understand , it was like any old thing . Then the light turned green , or maybe it had been green , a car behind me blew its horn and then , then , I got it . It felt as if my insides had been waiting at the peak of a very high rollercoaster and suddenly they had just dropped . Dad got it one second after me because I had just started to shake when he grabbed me , grabbed me and pulled me down into his chest . And he held me there . He just held me there . Covering my face , pushing me so hard into his chest I could barely breath . The police told us we had to come to the station to answer some questions . Dad said it was because we were witnesses . I knew as much . I knew we were the last people who saw the boy alive . I knew , couldn 't shake it , I was the last person the boy looked at , but I 'd never tell anyone that , of course . It didn 't matter , I didn 't think . Though it would come into my mind from time to time afterwards . For no good reason that memory would just flutter in and settle down . The look , for that one second . When we got to the station it became pretty obvious we were going to be there a while . Dad didn 't like it . I could tell he was uncomfortable , his hands started to shake and he kept rubbing them over his lap . They were like worn leather , his hands . His nails were always bitten down only I never saw dad actually bite his nails . I never asked him about it , but I would wonder about that sometimes . When he did that . We were just waiting . Sitting on a long wooden bench . We must have been there for over an hour , maybe two . I had no idea . I was fine . I wasn 't hungry anymore . Just sitting there for some reason was fine by me . It made me feel comfortable . Dad went up to the officer at the desk . They talked and then dad came back to the bench , said he was going out but he 'd be back in thirty minutes . Asked if I wanted anything . I said no , said I was fine . I knew he was going to the bar . I had seen it and so had he , when we parked the car . It was on the corner . It was nearby . I watched dad walk out of the station . He let the door swing shut behind him . I just sat there . There was a lot to take in . I had never been in a police station before . Everyone seemed pretty slow moving , the officers . That surprised me . I thought they would move faster but I guess there wasn 't much to do around here . The door opened again and I looked up . It wasn 't my dad . I didn 't know what sort of person it was . He didn 't look like anyone from around here that 's for sure . He was older . Dad 's age . He was wearing a pressed button up shirt . It looked like it had been starched . He was pale with a white puff of hair . He looked delicate like some old bird . Like a vacationer . That 's it I thought . The sort you see in Bar Harbor in the summer . That 's exactly what he looked like . The man walked to the officer at the desk , the same one my dad had talked to , they said a few words , then the officer walked around the desk , led the man to the same bench I was sitting on and the man sat down . The officer went back to the desk . The man crossed his legs and then uncrossed them . After a moment he crossed them again . He turned to me . I could feel him looking at me . I kept on looking straight ahead . I didn 't see what he would have to talk to me about . " Are you here for Peter ? " he said after a time . I didn 't know if he was talking to me . I turned . He was staring straight at me . His legs were uncrossed again . They were spread open and his hands were clutching his knees . I didn 't know who Peter was . That 's what I said . The man kept looking at me like he didn 't believe me . He was nodding , looking like he was assessing the situation , working something out in his head . An officer came out of a room , went up to the man and put a hand on his shoulder , introduced himself . The officer said , " I am sorry for your loss . " Then he said , " We 'll make sure this stays brief . " He led the man to a room in the back . I was happy to see him go . A while later dad came back to the station . He sat down next to me . He smelled of liquor and cigarettes . At that time in my life I still liked the smell of that . The smell of liquor and cigarettes hanging off my dad 's sweaters . Like I said , it was all I had known .