Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility (6) – Lipstick Lies!

A knock sounded at the door as Ansel was working on some paperwork for one his more stubborn patients. The woman, a fashion model of some great import, was simply incapable of admitting that she was severely addicted to Xanax. He was recommending to both her agent and the modeling agency she works for that she needed to remain in treatment for a bit longer.

He didn’t glance up from his notes as he asked his visitor to enter. He heard the door open and close and the person whod’d come in waited in respectable silence as the doc finished his work. Ansel finished his notes and closed the file, adding a sticky note on top to call the woman’s agent at first opportunity. He finally looked up and saw Ernie standing in front of his desk.

“Ernie, thanks for stopping in. How’s our newest resident?”

“In extreme denial.” Ernie stated without preamble. Ansel frowned.

“That bad, huh?”

“He doesn’t believe he has a problem and he certainly doesn’t want to be here. He’ll have to be watched carefully. I feel he may try and run for it.”

“Hmm…yes, his sister did say he’s got some deep issues.” Ansel nodded. “Anything else?”

“I don’t think he was always like he is. There’s some smarts behind the facade.” Ernie set Max’s file on Ansel’s desk to be looked at. “I think he was pushed into it, and, craving acceptance this would bring, went along with it.”

“That matches with what his sister called me about a few minutes ago. He was absolutely ruined by someone claiming to be his friend and I don’t think he’s aware of it.”

“An Enabler, by the sound of it.” Ernie nodded, very familiar with that.

“I’ll have to deal with him in a different way then I do others.”

“He would like to make a phone call. I told him he’d have to ask you.”

“Smart man. Where is he now?”

“Last I knew, he was getting settled in his room. I don’t think he plans on leaving it for the rest of the day.”

“I’ll have to go and meet him on his ‘home turf’ so to speak.” Ansel chuckled.

“Right-o, boss. Anything you need me to do right now? I have a dentist appointment in an hour and need to head out.”

“Oh, yes! Now that you mention it. Jordan has been behaving and I think she would like her art supplies back.”

“On it, boss. See you in a couple of hours.” Ernie smiled before leaving.

Ansel decided that the first time he would meet Max would not be as a doctor, but as a potential friend. He stripped off his lab coat and into the brown tweed jacket he came to work in. He didn’t look much like a doctor in the matching blue plaid shirt and blue jeans. He could have been someone’s next door neighbor for all anyone knew.

He took the long way up to the second floor, greeting some of the residents who knew him by sight and asking after them. He mentally catalogued their replied to be put in their files when he returned to the office. It looked as if a couple of them were ready to leave the facility and he was happy he was able to help them.

He paused outside the open door of 225 and simply observed the lone man within the room. Max was still sitting on the bed where Ernie had left him, looking so sad and pathetic it made Ansel’s heart break. Here was a man who needed all the help in the world and Ansel was determined to do everything in his power to cure him.

He knocked on the open door, clearing his throat as he did so and waited for Max to look up before he introduced himself.

“Hello, Mr Hines. My name is Ansel Monroe. I’m the Chief of Staff here and I thought I’d come up to say hello and welcome. May I come in?”

It was an unusual feeling to be sitting alone in what was a very clinical room when you yourself think there is nothing wrong with you. Minutes passed, then an hour. The odd sound of footsteps as both patients and staff passed by his open door, gave cause for Maxell to glance up. He didn’t acknowledge those that passed, purely because he was too consumed by his own self pity. Constantly asking himself why? Why did his sister betray his trust? Why was he humiliated in front of an entire restaurant of patrons – to be dragged kicking and screaming like a loony before googly eyed onlookers. The shame, the disgrace.

While he appreciated Ernie’s concern and candor, he was still dissapointed that he didn’t get the chance to make a phone call. In the movies, the prisoners always get that one phone call. You might wonder just who he would have called. In the face of things, the only person he felt he had any real connection with was in fact Lucy. Little did he realize that she was going through her own private hell in the wake of his incarceration. Yes, Maxwell felt like this was a prison. Tall fences and strict security. Breaking out would require some hard thinking and a lot of cunning. Neither of which Maxwell was capable of at this moment in time. Maxwell sat on the edge of his bed, fidgeting with his fingers listlessly, till there was another sound of passing footsteps that came to a stop just outside his door.

A gaunt looking man – good looking by all accounts but at the same time frail was standing in the doorway just staring at him.

“What are you in for?’ The man asked, stepping into the room uninvited. Maxwell did a double take, as he then recognised the man, though it was hard to believe it was him.

“You’re Charlie Sheen, the actor?”

Charlie smirked and gave a slight nod of the head. “Got it in one kid. So, what are you in here for?” He seemed curious about Maxwell, though Max was a bit awestruck, and in some cases shocked by Charlie’s appearance. He looked so…old. Nothing like he did on television. His face was wrinkly, with big bags under his eyes. His hair was a salt and pepper grey and black. Clearly, he hadn’t touched up the colour in a while. Maxwell stuttered a bit, trying not to blurt out something rude when he finally found his voice.

“Alcohol. Sister had me committed.” Likening this place to that of a mental asylum. Charlie actually laughed at the man’s candor. “Gotta love family. First sign of failure and they either race to tell the tabloids or send you to a place like this. I know…I know, man.”

Maxwell was surprised when Charlie sat down next to him on the bed. There was an awkward silence between them, before Maxwell asked;

“So…what are you in here for?’ Seemed the obvious thing to ask.

“Sex. Addicted to it. That…and drugs. Double header. Lost my tv show because of it to that Kutcher kid.” He scoffed and then tried to make fun of the situation. “Bet you didn’t think they have a cure for sex addiction. Though, every time I see Nurse Chisolm, I crack a fat.”

The conversation was starting to get a bit too intimate for Maxwell’s liking as he cringed at the idea of Charlie Sheen with an erection.

“Ah..right.” Maxwell didn’t know what else to say. The awkward silence again had Charlie get up and then give Maxwell a pat on the back. “Guess I will see you in group.” The actor said, before he caught sight of one of the more attractive nurses and took off out the door with a noticeable bulge in his tracksuit pants.

“I….hope not.” Maxwell said to himself, only to see another come to his door, only this man knocked first.

“Hello, Mr Hines. My name is Ansel Monroe. I’m the Chief of Staff here and I thought I’d come up to say hello and welcome. May I come in?”

The man seemed nice enough, and regular looking. Not like one of the doctors with the lab coat and stern facial expressions. It was probably his attire that set Maxwell at ease.

“Door’s open.” Maxwell answered, stating the obvious. “I’d offer you a drink but I think the bar is closed.” Maxwell still had that quick wit, though the joke would probably fall flat.

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