CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As Bobby’s life went superbly, Allison’s took a plunge. Unable to cope with Skip’s suicide, she quit her job at the supermarket and drank heavily. The neighborhood package store even cashed her monthly check from Vince and Maria.
Allie made frequent trips to the cemetery to visit Millie Jett-Black. However, she was banned from the place when the manager found Allison pouring vodka on Millie’s grave and when she cussed him out for asking her to stop. Allie spent the night in jail for that little outburst.
Janet tried to reason with her roommate. “You’ve got such a brilliant mind. Why waste it on booze?”
Allison quoted Dorothy Parker. “If I abstain from fun and such/I’ll probably amount to much/But I shall stay the way I am/Because I do not give a damn.”
Twice, Janet threatened to move out. Both times, Allison begged her to stay and swore that she would stop drinking. Both times, Janet relented only to see her roommate go back to the bottle after less than a week. Finally, Janet left.
On the day she moved out, Allison held her and sobbed disconsolately. “Dammit, I wish you’d stay.”
“Girl, I can’t watch you destroy yourself this way. I love you too much.”
“You shouldn’t love me, Janet. Last one to love me killed himself.”
“Girl, you gotta get over that.”
“How?”
“Well, for one thing, you need to give up the sauce.”
“But it hurts less when I’m drunk.”
Janet sighed with immense sadness. “Someday, you’re gonna wanna stop. When you do, call me, OK?”
Now that she lived alone, Allison drank even more. No sooner did she wake up for the day then she had a drink in her hand. When she didn’t drink, Allie experienced such withdrawal symptoms as hallucinations and the shakes.
She wore the same clothes for days on end. Even when she puked on herself, Allison did not change outfits. She smelled putrid and took a shower only when the liquor store owner threatened to ban her.
She had lost thirty pounds, her hair was in knots, and her eyes were often half shut. When Allie spoke, she slurred her words so badly, they often came out as one continuous vowel. She stopped listening to her soul records and fell out of touch with everybody who had once mattered to her. Allison’s world had narrowed itself down to her apartment and the package store. This went on for several months, until the apparition appeared.
As Allie sat on the floor with a jug of Captain Morgan, she noticed a figure across the room.
“Skip?”
He smiled at her.
“How’d you get here?”
He said nothing.
“Why’d you kill yourself, Skip? That was so stupid.”
He floated across the room and out the window.
“No, wait!” With some effort, Allie got to her feet and stumbled across the room. She looked out the window but saw no one.
“Skip,” she yelled. “Where’d you go?”
Allison gazed across the alley. She turned her head up and down, left and right, but Skip was gone.
“Son of a bitch. He left me again.”
Tears running down her cheeks, Allie looked at the alley three stories below and said, “Ahh, fuck it.”
She shut her eyes and climbed out the window.
When the Leonettis got the call, they were on the next flight to New York. They left Patrice with relatives in Brooklyn and took a taxi to the hospital.
A candy striper noticed Bobby and asked for an autograph. He wanted to punch her in the mouth but instead took a deep breath and scribbled his signature on a piece of scrap paper. As the girl skipped away with glee, Bobby rejoined his parents, who had found Allison’s doctor.
“I have to warn you, she’s in rough shape.”
Allison lay unconscious, her legs and feet in plaster casts. I.V. tubes curved out of her nose and left arm. Her forehead was swathed in bloodstained white gauze.
A sobbing Maria rushed to her daughter’s bedside. When she tried to throw herself onto Allison, the doctor stopped her.
“Please, ma’am, control yourself. Your daughter has three broken ribs.”
Bobby took his sister’s hand. “Please don’t die, Allie, please don’t die.”
The doctor placed a warm, reassuring hand on his shoulder. “She’s not going to die, son. They got her here in time.”
Finally, Vince spoke. “So, what happened?”
“She fell from a third-floor window. Believe it or not, her condition could be far worse than it is.”
“How long you think she’ll be in here?”
“Several weeks at best. The bones in her feet are shattered. They’ll take months to heal. After that, she’ll need extensive physical therapy. For all intents and purposes, she’ll have to relearn how to walk.” Pausing, the doctor said, “You do know that she’s an alcoholic?”
Vince’s eyes widened into tea saucers.
“What?” exclaimed Maria.
“In my twenty-six years at this hospital, she had the highest blood alcohol content I’ve ever seen. If your daughter doesn’t quit drinking, she may not live long enough to walk again.”
Vince shook his head in disbelief. “Well, doc, I appreciate your honesty. Thanks.”
Allison was still unconscious when the Leonettis left the hospital. As Vince hailed a cab, Bobby asked if he could stay in Manhattan to see a movie. His parents agreed but warned him to be careful.
Bobby did not go to the movies. Instead, he made his way to Times Square and quickly found a man who listened with sympathy as Bobby explained that his pills had run out before he could meet his L.A. connection. The man said there was no problem.
“I can get whatever you want, as long as you got the bread.”
Bobby chuckled. “Oh, I’ve got the bread.”