Hi, My Name is Ray

The fog slowly lifts from Ray’s brain and, in doing so, Ray discovers he is standing in the middle of the Joseph Muller Bridge. The Connecticut River sluggishly flows beneath, lights reflecting on its surface. Ray thinks the water looks like the night sky, dark and unfathomable. He slowly blinks. The sound of traffic grabs his attention, and he turns to look. There’s a fair amount of traffic, and he’s not in a walkway.Suddenly, Ray is gripped by an attack of nausea. He swirls around and begins vomiting over the railing. Over and over. Not even enough of a pause to breathe. His head spins. And his knees buckle as he slides to the pavement, coughing up blood.A passing car honks its horn as the driver yells, “Get off the bridge, asshole!” Ray has just enough strength to give him the bird.

He struggles to pull himself up. Weaving in place, Roy wipes away the vomit and blood from his mouth with his sleeve.His eyes burn as he peers again into the river below, wondering how he got here. Ray has been doing that a lot lately, waking up in strange places. The last thing he remembers is making some squeeze from a can of Sterno he had stolen from the hardware store. It’s called squeeze because if you squeeze it through a handkerchief or a sock, you squeeze all the liquid out, which contains 3.4% methyl alcohol and 66% ethyl alcohol. Drink enough of it and you go blind.

Ray feels another attack about to happen, but belches loudly instead. He feels better for that. He looks to the river one last time, thinking he would be better off if he’d just jump in and put an end to it all. But he can’t; his alcoholism won’t allow it. His body panics at the thought of not having another drink! Ray needs it to stay alive, even though it’s the very thing that is slowly killing him!His liver feels about the size of a picnic ham and aches all the time. A doctor once told him he had lost about sixty percent of his liver function and that it was badly scarred. He went on to say that people can still live with at least fifty percent, but Ray should stop drinking immediately. All Ray got out of that was that he still had ten percent to go. Never give a drunk options.

Ray grabs the top of the guardrail and begins heading in the direction toward the town of Holyoke. It’s mid-September in Massachusetts, and the weather is already cold at night. Ray’s stomach is severely upset, while his head aches with a blinding white pain. His legs are so weak that he can only drag them forward. It is as if each of his feet weighs fifty pounds apiece. He just can’t lift them. By the time he reaches the end of the bridge, Ray is exhausted.He leans against the last post with his eyes closed when a carload of teenagers pulls up beside him. They roll down their windows and start taunting him.

“What’s the matter, Rummy? You sick?Do you need a drink? Well, here buy a nip on us!” They all hoot and laugh as they begin throwing loose change at Ray. A boy in the back throws a half-empty can of beer, which hits Ray in the side of his head.They all burst out laughing, watching Ray scramble to get it before all the beer runs out. “What a loser!” someone shouts as the car speeds away toward town.

His hands quake so badly he can barely grasp the can. Ray lifts it to his lips and greedily gulps down what remains. The cold liquid no sooner hits his stomach than he begins retching again. Slowly, Ray starts digging through the dirt, picking up the change. Not enough to buy a nip.

Struggling to get off the bridge, Ray manages to make it to a grassy knoll where he lies down to rest. He is desperately in need of help as he lies curled up in the fetal position. He’s given up on God a long time ago. Why would God care about a man who doesn’t even care about himself? Dying and going to Hell couldn’t be any worse than this.

Lying in the moist evening grass, with the rich, heady smell of earth in his nostrils, he is filled with memories. Memories of when he was a boy playing in the front yard in autumn. Ray can hear the sounds of himself and the other children laughing while they wait for the streetlights to come on, signaling it is time to go home. But Ray never wanted to go home because his father would be there, already three beers into the night. Inevitably, there would be a fight between his parents and, at some point, Ray would be blamed for something and get a slap in the face. He hated his father. He was a worthless drunk, just like his grandfather. Perhaps that’s why he is this way. They say that alcoholism is hereditary, don’t they?

Ray hears a voice penetrating his blurry thoughts and pries open his swollen eyes. There, leaning over him, is a big pink rabbit. Knitting his eyebrows in disbelief, he feels he must be hallucinating.As the rabbit continues to speak, the vision becomes clearer. It’s a young lady in a costume who is asking Ray if he is alright.

“Can I call you an ambulance? You look very ill.”

Ray lifts himself onto an elbow. “Nah, I’m alright. I just need to rest for a bit. I’ll be fine, really.” The turmoil in his gut seems to have somewhat settled down.

The bunny smiles sweetly. “Okay, well, when you feel up to it, I want you to walk down this street until you reach Danny’s House of Pizza. Danny is my dad. Tell him his daughter sent you. He’ll understand. Good luck, Sir. And may God bless you.”

As the girl runs away, Ray needs to know what time it is for some reason and calls after her. She replies, “Eight o’clock!” then disappears.

Ray continues to sit in the weeds for a few more minutes. Taking several deep breaths, he tries to clear his head and stand. After the third attempt, he’s up and walking toward town.

Ray feels every step is an effort as he weaves his way down the sidewalk.People look at him with disgust or look past him as if he’s not even there. The streetlights and store signs seem too bright and hurt his eyes as he looks for Danny’s. Finally, across the street, Ray sees “Danny’s House of Pizza” and freezes in his tracks.What to do? What if the guy yells at him to get out or calls the cops? Ray remembers the big pink bunny’s smile.“He’s my dad.” He thinks, “If he’s as nice as her, then it should be alright.”Ray steps off the curb without looking and nearly gets hit by a car, causing him to stumble backwards and fall.Ray feels a hand take him by the arm.“You alright, pal? You took quite a tumble.

“No.I’m fine. I just tripped, that’s all.”

The man smiles. “Really?Because to me, you look like someone who needs a drink! My name’s Danny, and that’s my place over there. Come on, I’ll get you a coffee, okay?”

Ray’s bloodshot eyes grow wide. “Danny!?! I just met a big pink rabbit who told me to look for you!”

Danny throws his head back in gales of laughter. “That would be my daughter, Lori. She’s going to a costume party. That girl finds people in need like other girls find lost puppies! I know what’s going on, and we need to talk.

After Danny gets some coffee into Ray, he shouts to his helper, Earl. “Take over for me tonight, will you, Earl? I’m going to take Ray here to a meeting down the street. There will be a little something extra in it for you.”

“Ah, you don’t have to do that, Boss. If it weren’t for you taking me in, I wouldn’t be working in the first place.”

Danny and Ray stroll to the meeting that had already started in the basement of the Lutheran Church. Danny tells Ray all about AA and how he, too, can find peace if he really wants it.As they enter, a few people wave to Danny, but all remain respectful to the speaker. Danny pours Ray a half a cup of strong black coffee. Only half because Ray’s hands are trembling so badly, he doesn’t want him to burn himself. When the speaker finishes, the chairperson asks Danny if he would like to say a few words.

“Hi, everybody. My name’s Danny and I’m an alcoholic.” Everyone in the hall responds, “Hi, Danny!”

“I’ve brought this gentleman with me tonight to show him that we all have one thing in common. We’re all drunks. He’s afraid and needs reassurance, trust, and understanding. So, how do we not drink?” The hall answers back, “One day at a time!”

“But, why?” Danny encourages.

“Because we want to stop the madness!” is their response.

Danny turns to Ray, “These men and women are the same as you and me. They’ve gotten sick and tired of being sick and tired. They needed help just like you, and they have found it with people who have been there and understand. Are you sick and tired, Ray? Do you truly want to quit drinking and start a new life? Are you willing to trust others and to help others who may need your help someday? Only you know the answer. What do you say?”

Ray’s breath catches in his throat as his bottom lip begins to quiver.Looking out into the hall of people, he sees in their eyes anticipation and hope. In a voice that is barely there, Ray speaks into the microphone. “M-m my name is R-Ray.” Tears begin streaming down his face as he chokes out, “I’m an alcoholic.” The hall erupts with cheers of “Hi, Ray!” Ray smiles, feeling he has finally been given a second chance in life.