The morning sun glinted off every blade of dried grass, every speck of sand, so that the entire desert landscape glowed with a golden aura. There was no better place to admire that beauty than at 7:30 am from the deck overhanging the cliffs on the edge of the Ranch Creek property. Dick was sitting with his feet dangling off the edge of the deck, arms folded across a slat in the railing. It was the same place he'd been every morning for the last three days.
Dick's return to Ranch Creek had been late in the day, so he'd spent the remaining hours unpacking and getting settled. He'd gone to bed right after supper, exhausted by the maelstrom of emotions he'd experienced the night before his return. The other 'guests' – most of them still there from his prior visit - had greeted him with grim smiles but, thankfully, no disingenuous words of welcome. Nobody had wanted to see him again. Dick was, after all, living proof that the program didn't always work. Seeing the flashes of fear behind their eyes, Dick had escaped to his room instead of participating in the common room activities. Since he'd gone to bed so early, he was up early too, and had gone out to the deck to watch the sun rise. The desert was peaceful all alone in the morning, even if it wasn't the same as being out on his board in the middle of the ocean. They were supposed to meditate, after all. He knew that from last time.
When Sam stuck his head out of the patio door to let him know that breakfast was getting started, Dick raised a hand in acknowledgment but didn't turn around, needing a few more minutes before going inside to face the day. He'd thought he had known how hard this would be, having done it before, but it turned out he was dead wrong.
Guess you really didn't pay attention that first time around. No wonder you fucked it up, idiot.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Dick." Dr. Blake had said during his first session two days ago. "You're not a failure because you fell off the wagon. You're here, aren't you? You got up and decided to get back on; that's one for the win column. The trick is to make a checkmark in the win column every day. It won't be easy. You'll need to do the work; more so than last time."
And that's what had Dick so worried. He'd never worked hard for anything in his life. What if he didn't know how to work hard? And he didn't go in with all that religious stuff, so what if the 12 step AA thing didn't work for him? Logan did it, dude, and he doesn't fucking believe in God or whatever. And look at him now. Christ, he's a goddamn fucking war hero! "This shit must work, right?" he asked a passing jay. The bird landed further down the railing and stared at Dick; even though it didn't answer him, Dick chose to believe in the bird's unspoken agreement. "Right. So get the fuck up and go eat, Richard." He said the last with a scowl, but got up and made his way inside to start working.
"Good afternoon, everyone," welcomed Martha, the AA meeting leader, right after breakfast. "So, who would like to start us off today?"
Dick was sure that her eyes rested on him just a fraction of a second longer than on anyone else. Taking that as his cue, he raised his hand, nervous because he'd never spoken at the any of the previous AA meetings.
"Hey," his hand lowered to become a self-conscious half-wave, "So, uh…yeah, hi. My name is Dick, and I'm an alcoholic."
Boom goes the dynamite on step one. Admit I have a problem: done! Only eleven more to go, dude.
Everyone responded with the customary "Hi, Dick" and then waited patiently for him to continue.
The group—nine members and a leader—were sitting on chairs and couches set up in a rough circle in the common room. Dick glanced quickly around, never quite making eye contact with anyone, before settling his gaze on a stain in the middle of the carpet.
"I'm, uh, back here for my second round. But, um, you guys all know that already." He looked up at Martha apologetically, "Sorry." She waved away his apology, indicating that he should continue. "Yeah, so, I guess I didn't really try very hard the first time I was here. I guess you guys already know that too, huh?" He chuckled without humour. He felt ridiculous. "I don't really know what else to say. I found out that I did some really shitty things to my fr- to someone my best friend loves while I was drunk, and I need to make sure that never happens again. So here I am."
Martha waited to make sure that Dick was done talking before asking, "Do you want to tell us what happened, Richard?"
Dick was very aware of Melanie, the Burning Man festival girl, sharing the couch with him and shook his head, not looking in her direction. "No, not today." She must be almost out of here, right? No way I can tell these guys any of what went down with Ronnie if Melanie's here. Can't do that to her.
"That's OK. You took a big step today anyway, Richard, by admitting that you have a problem with alcohol." Martha reached over from her chair two seats down to squeeze Dick's shoulder and forced him to look her in the eye. "Good for you." She smiled encouragingly and then turned back to the group. Everyone else's attention refocused on Barry who began describing some epiphany he'd had the day before during meditation.
But Dick wasn't listening; he was too wrapped up navigating the melting pot of feelings he was experiencing: pride for truly accomplishing step one as well as suffocating humiliation at having fucked up his life. Man, I could really use a drink!
It was a few days later in the group session that Dick found himself in the hot seat again. Since his admission during the AA meeting, he'd been relatively quiet, mostly just listening to the other guests' stories, triumphs and struggles. Maybe, he figured, if he listened to the others closely enough, he could figure out what to do next. Long nights spent reading and rereading twelve step pamphlets had left him feeling discouraged and detached from the process, and he couldn't figure out how to move forward. The panic he'd felt during those first few days was starting to show itself again as a constant roiling in his gut.
The group leader, Devon, must have smelled Dick's fear and decided that he needed a nudge. "So, Richard… I hear you climbed step one the other day. How does it feel, man?"
Dick's left knee started bouncing at full speed. "Uh, yeah, dude. It was- uh, it wasn't so bad, I guess. I don't know, I guess since I at least got that far the first time around, this time was easier. Especially since, you know, I meant it this time."
Devon nodded in understanding. He was easygoing and good at not judging anyone for what they said. Dick liked him, especially after discovering that they had surfing in common, and appreciated that he let the guests pretty much guide the group discussions. It's what made the twinge of betrayal feel that much sharper when Devon pushed the conversation out of Dick's comfort zone. "Any particular reason why you haven't kept going then? Step 2 awaits, buddy." He looked around the room and asked, "Can anyone remind Dick what Step 2 is?"
Anton, epitome of the perfect guest, sat up even straighter than he normally did and recited, "Believe that a power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity."
Shooting Devon an annoyed side-eye at being cornered, Dick mumbled, "Feels like a honker, I guess." He opted to use surfer lingo so that maybe he wouldn't seem like such a chicken shit to the others if they didn't understand him.
"Nah, man! It's a piece of cake! Hell, you've essentially done it just by showing up here, no?" Devon sat back in his seat and crossed his arms, accepting Dick's shade without backing down.
Dick shook his head and replied a little bitterly, "If it were that easy, I wouldna had to come back, would I?"
Devon smiled proudly. "Good! You're actually thinking this time. So tell us, what's so hard?"
It took a minute for Dick to figure out how to not sound like a—well, like a dick. "It's just all the 'higher power' stuff. I don't…." He took a breath and stared defiantly around the room. "I don't really believe in it. Not that, like, I want to offend anyone, but, uh, if God is real, well, he's certainly never done me any favours." He shrugged and crossed his arms protectively around himself.
"Fair enough," Rob, another guest, agreed. "I think most of us probably felt like you do, at the beginning. Just think about it, though, Richard. It can be very liberating. Trust me." Dick made a non-committal noise, and thankfully, Devon moved on to someone else.
Later that evening, Dick called Mac to check in as promised. When she asked him how it was going this time around, he shrugged and then realized she couldn't see him. Wiping his hand down his face, he decided to fill her in on the problems he was having working through the twelve steps. Hope she really wanted to know.
But Mac surprised him by not brushing him off or trying to get rid of him. "Huh. Well, I might be able to help you with that actually. Have you ever heard of the Agnostic Steps? Or the Humanist ones?"
"Uh, no. I don't even know what that means."
"They're the twelve steps from AA, but without all the religious mumbo-jumbo."
"And why the fuck do you know this?" Dick asked, incredulous.
"This isn't my first rodeo, remember? I did some research a few years ago after Logan went in. I'm thinking you're probably about as God-fearing as he is; which is to say, not at all. Hang on, I'll email you a link." Her voice took on a slightly distracted edge.
Dick could hear her typing away in the background, and then his phone chimed to signal a new message. He chuckled softly. "I should have just hired you instead of coming back here. Sounds like you're full of useful information."
"Yeaahh, no thanks. I'm much more about solving tech problems. Less emotional baggage, more binary code."
Once again, Mac had come through for him. Dick knew she was only helping him out of some misplaced feelings of guilt, but he was grateful anyway. "Thanks, Mackie."
Mac snorted into the phone. "Mackie?"
Smiling, Dick replied, "Your new nickname. Get used to it, Mackie."
"Oh goodie." Mac said dryly. "Go check your message, Dickie. Logan will be home in a few days and he'll want to know how it's going. Give him some good news, will ya?"
"Kowabunga." Dick ended the call and flipped over to his email to open the link and scroll through the list.
Step 2. Come to believe and to accept that we need strengths beyond our awareness and resources to restore us to sanity.
Dick stared at the words for a long time that night before turning off his light and going to sleep. Suddenly, tomorrow seemed a little less hard.
At this rate you're going to owe Mac an island if she keeps on saving your ass.
He fell asleep and for a change dreamed peacefully of Mac on a deserted tropical island, walking down the beach ahead of him in a tank top and capris, wind blowing through her hair. The image evaporated as Dick surfaced from sleep the next morning without leaving any trace of a memory. Still, he decided that he could get used to waking up feeling as contented as he did that morning.
Later that day in AA, Dick climbed the second step. He waited until it seemed like the others had said their piece before straightening up in his chair and opening with, "Hey, everybody. My name is Dick, and I'm an alcoholic."
"Hi, Dick," the others chanted in monotone reply.
Dick glanced around the circle, hands resting on his knees which where bouncing nervously. "So, I talked to a…friend of mine after group session yesterday. She, uh, told me about these steps that were all God-free. I checked 'em out and, uh, they seemed pretty cool. So I guess, like Devon said yesterday, I kinda already did step two by coming back here. I really can't do this alone. And, uh, I guess there's not only you guys, but I also have peeps back in Neptune. Good people, not," and Dick blushed sheepishly, "my party crew or anything. They're the reason I'm back here. I owe them big, whether they ever want to deal with me again or not. Anyway, I'll shut up now, but, uh, I'm glad I'm here. Thanks."
Martha searched Dick's face for a moment, and then asked, "The twelve steps work, Dick, no matter how you choose to interpret them. If the ones you have work for you, then good. These friends of yours, can you really count on them?"
Dick bobbed his head. "Yeah. Logan's, uh, been here before, actually, so he's keen on helping me with this. Mac – she's the friend who sent me the info and brought me back here – well, she's not running away, so I guess that's good. There are a few others. It might be harder with them because, well- I told you about Logan's girlfriend the other day, right? That I was really shitty to her? Well, she was helping because of Logan, and so was her best friend. But then everything went down right before I came back so…I don't know how much they'll be willing to help, now." His head drooped slightly and he frowned.
"Well, step three requires that you use the experience of those around you to learn new habits and reactions. Sounds like you have that, both here and at home. Seems like you climbed two steps today, Dick. Well done."
Dick looked up at Martha, hope beginning to glimmer in his eyes. The other members of the group were nodding encouragingly he digested her words, a small smile broke out and he looked around, sitting a little straighter.
Man, if this is what hard work feels like, bring it!