Chapter 3
Where Were You While We Were Getting High?
Eric didn't know where he was going. When he decided to take this journey in the middle of the night, he had to go through four boxes in the attic just to find the one address he had for Rich McAdam his past acquaintance and part time Coke buddy from when they worked in Kenosha. The house on Arsenal Street
was nothing more than a shack. He had no honest memory of this house at all.
But then how could he when he was in a drug-addicted state of mind? It was just ten after twelve in the afternoon when Eric called Donna from the parking lot of a local McDonald's. She was fine. Megan was in fine and back in school. He doubted everyone being "fine". He knocked on the door, he wasn't even sure if they even lived here anymore. It took one of those three minutes that felt like fifty years by the time the overweight middle-aged woman with the scraggly hair and torn clothes opened the door.
'Tell me, I didn't f*** her!'
"Hello,"
"Are you a bill collector or somethin'?" She asked about to close the door, but Eric put his hand up to stop her.
"No. I'm looking for a Rich McAdam."
"He don't live here anymore. Wa-it, you're familiar—what's your name?" She pulled her spotty glasses down the bridge of her nose.
"Eric. Eric Forman."
She pulled him into the house and put her hands on his shoulders. She was a lovely bouquet of Budweiser, nicotine, and general body odor. Eric brushed her hands off his body.
"Please tell me you have something for a fix. My boyfriend left two days ago, and I have no money---and---" She put her hands on his waist, "Fifty dollars for a BJ?"
"NO!"
'Is this chemically dependant woman Mark's Mother? Please to God no.'
"I've been told I give good h***."
There was an extremely offensive odor coming from the living room and Eric didn't want to go any further than the entry way. He took her hands off his body again. And just remembered the reason why he was here.
"You didn't tell me your name, honey." He figured why not get on her level?
"Marcia McAdam." She was about a few years younger than Jackie.
He swallowed hard. "Do you have a son named Mark?"
"That's Judy's boy." She pulled a cigarette from her bra, as Eric felt physically ill.
"Judy?"
He had no recollection of any woman named Judy.
"My s-sister. Why do you want to know about, Mark?"
Eric took out his wallet and put a fifty-dollar bill in front of her nose and pulled it away when she saw her big, wide, eyes knowing that she could buy a lot of drugs with that. Well, not a lot, but enough to last her a few days at least.
"If you want the fifty dollars, Marcia, you will give me your sister's address."
"Okay—it's on North Dearborn. Now give me the fifty, I have a knife if you don't."
Was that threat designed to scare him? Eric mentally rolled as eyes as he handed Marcia the fifty dollars and she ran past him in most likelihood to find her dealer. Although he was tempted to snoop around in this cockroach infested, destined to be condemned apartment, he knew the answers to Mark were not here. He quickly went back to his car, thankful that it was still here and that no one had stolen his hubcaps, and he drove back to the Burger King, which was in a nicer neighborhood to ask for directions to Dearborn Street at the gas station, which was across the street. He hoped his Mother Judy was nothing like his low life aunt Marcia. All of this reminded him of Hyde's family situation. Jesus Christ, he had acted exactly like Bud Hyde! He wasn't some high school drop out finding out his girlfriend was pregnant, he was over fifty years old and his son was in his twenties. 'How could I be so f***ing stupid?'
'Why did I turn you away, Mark? Why did I turn you away?'
Eric put the paper with the handwritten directions on it on the passenger side seat and decided to skip lunch, determined to find his son.
Hyde walked into his Wife's salon with a dozen long stemmed roses with babies breath it was a much better and happier occasion than Valentine's Day.
"Steven! They're beautiful, thank you!" She kissed him on the cheek and dumped the old flowers out of the vase of her desk and put the roses in.
"Do you have any appointments?" Hyde asked, sitting at the reception desk.
"No, I called all my afternoon's and told them we're going to close and I rescheduled them all for next week at ten percent off."
"That's good. You didn't phone Donna did you?"
"No, I resisted—" She sat on his lap
"Good," he kissed her on the lips, foreshadowing what was to come tonight, "Oh, Jackie—you know I'm not good with words."
"Steven, you don't have to be. Where is my darling Hunter?"
"At the hospital. I'm going to pick up Hannah at school. Do you want to ride with me or take your own car?"
"I can leave my car here, if you don't mind taking me to work tomorrow?"
He kissed her again on the lips, "I don't mind."
"We can't stop him from telling Megan."
"I know this, but for once, Jackie, I'd like us to have a just to have a slight moment of happiness without having to deal with the Eric's-got-a-son issue."
Hyde
didn't mean to sound bitter, but he just wanted to have a family celebration
without the dark cloud of Eric and Donna's situation lingering over them for a
few private moments. It wasn't too much
to ask for, was it?
Eric was in the lobby of a cheap motel going through the white pages of the local telephone directory. The book was missing a few pages and he hoped that there'd be at least one listing for a "McAdam" as long as it wasn't the degenerate aunt Marcia on Arsenal. 'Why didn't I just look up the number on anywho.com?' Eric thought. He sighed when he found only one listing.
McAdam, J and the address on N. Dearborn
What he didn't realize was that the phone directory was over two years old.
A few hours later
Megan was beyond relieved when her Mother just dropped her off after school because she had an appointment with some editor from Travel Wisconsin monthly. The first thing she did after drinking a soda with sugar in it was to see if Hunter was online. He wasn't online but she did receive a mysterious email from her fiancée.
Dear Megan,
Don't be mad, okay?
Love,
Hunter
'Okay, what did you do?' What did Hunter mean by 'don't be mad'? Megan opened up her email and asked him just that in response. She thought about phoning Hunter but she didn't want to be the insecure wheelchair bound girlfriend, and she knew Hunter would NEVER think that, but it wouldn't stop herself from thinking exactly that. She wondered how her father's 'business meeting' was going? Could Donna not be any more condescending? Why couldn't she just tell her sixteen-year-old daughter the truth? Why couldn't Donna just say, "Your father went to look for his son." Didn't she think Megan could handle it? With her good mood gone Megan decided not to do her homework right now and just sulk Forman-style on her bed. 'Dear Megan, don't be mad, okay?' What DID her fiancée DO to have to say that to her in advance? Did he give up on his physical therapy? No, Jackie and Hyde would never allow that. Did he stop doing anything artistic? No, Megan didn't think so. She couldn't imagine what it was but hoped whatever he did that it wouldn't be something that she would actually be mad over. She hoped that her father could find Mark and that they could sort things out and have a real relationship. But at the same time there was going to be a part of her that was going to miss being her Daddy's little girl. She had a brother, you know what happens when there's a new addition to the family, the first one is always cast aside. And although Megan knew both of her parents loved her (even Donna) she still was afraid of being in the shadows and having Mark being the apple of her father's eye. She quickly fell asleep holding her pillow. Hoping that whatever Hunter did that he felt he had to apologize for was minor and whatever happened between her father and Mark wouldn't ruin anything. Now, she was starting to think with her father's twisted logic as she dreamt about how Eric would chase the monsters out from under her bed when she was a little girl.
House
This house looked nicer, granted it was a few steps up from the 'drug house', but with a little paint and better yard work this house could be quite nice. Another door to knock on for Eric Forman the non-Avon lady. He still had no recollection on a Judy McAdam. How do you tell your own son that? Even if you were hooked on Cocaine that you don't remember the probable one night stand that you had with his mother? This time a little kid answered the door; she had blue eyes and red hair, which would spell trouble for the man destined to be with her in the future. She said through the screen door "that she couldn't talk to strangers." and she yelled for her father.
"We're not interested."
'Not even in the monkey suit and he thinks I'm still trying to sell him something—'
"I'm not selling anything. I'm looking for a Judy McAdam, I was given this address by her sister."
The man looked like he was answering a double Jeopardy! question for one thousand dollars as his brain played ping-pong with the name that Eric gave him.
"Oh—why don't you come in, um-what's your name?" His voice took on a serious tone.
"Eric. Eric Forman."
"Honey, who was at the door?"
'Another stranger to deal with?'
"I'm Henry Black and that was my Wife Sabrina who is probably going to ask you if you'd like something to drink right about now?"
"Hello, I missed your name—"
"Eric Forman." He replied tiredly
"Would you like something to drink?"
'Yeah scotch and a Coke.' "Just a glass of water, thanks."
And she went off in her merry little way almost reminding him of his mother.
"We purchased this house two years ago. After the fire."
That's when Mrs. Black came in with the iced teas as she went back to her daughter in the kitchen.
"There was a fire?" Eric asked quietly
"Did you know Judy McAdam?"
He really didn't want to get into it with a complete and total stranger, but Eric didn't want to lie either, especially if this man had any information on his son.
"Yes, a long time ago."
It was the truth.
"There was a fire in her bedroom---"
"I can't bear to hear the rest. Do you happen to know the whereabouts on her son, Mark?" Eric wiped the condensation from the glass with his fingers.
"The last I heard, he was in the Army."
'My son was in the military? Now that ought to make you proud Red.'
Eric took a drink of the water and stood up.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Black." He extended his hand for him to shake.
They don't let you graduate with a business major without knowing how to do the power handshake.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't be of any more help, but if you'd like to leave me your phone number--"
"No, that won't be necessary, thanks." Eric sadly replied as Henry walked him out of the house.
Eric got in his car and started to drive, but had no idea on where to go next. With his aunt a psycho drug case living in squalor and his mother dead, maybe Mark decided not to return to Indy after all. He couldn't hold his hunger any longer and went to a diner to get something to eat and to call Donna on his cell phone.
"Hello, Donna." Eric asked as he opened up a sugar packet for his coffee
"Eric, you sound tired. I take it you didn't find Mark."
"Yes on both counts."
"I could talk to old man Sal at the gas station maybe he knows where Mark was headed?"
Eric sighed, "No, Donna. It's not necessary. I had my chance twice to get to know my son and I blew it. How's Megan?"
"She just woke up from a nap and is supposed to be doing her homework."
"Don't be too hard on her. I think after I eat I'll start heading back—"
"Eric, you sound too tired to drive, I'd prefer it if you stay at a motel tonight so you can get some sleep." Donna cautioned, she didn't want him to get into a car accident.
"I suppose that's a good idea. I'll call you later tonight before bed. Love you."
And despite all of the bad words that they ever spoke to each other, he meant it, he loved Donna very much, she was one of the few people in his life that he loved in the true sense of the word. The waitress came by with his sandwich and he tried to be interested in the local newspaper, but it couldn't hold his interest. Until his eye caught an ad for the Indianapolis Marion County public libraries book sale.
Library!
He wrapped his sandwich in a napkin and asked the waitress who was walking by for his check. Maybe, there was some hope after all.
Donna set the table as she knew Megan always had trouble with her math homework and figured she would let her do it without interruption. She knew her daughter didn't like her much and it hurt. She only wanted Megan to be the young woman she knew she could be. She didn't want her daughter to rely on a man for happiness and fulfillment when she had her whole life ahead of her. It was nothing against Hunter Hyde; she just wished that Megan would get some different, better priorities. She was about to take the potatoes out of the microwave when the phone rang. The caller ID showed-Forman, E.
"Eric? What's wrong?"
"My car died! I'm waiting for the auto club to send a tow truck. I was just on my way to the library to do some research and the engine just made a sputtering noise and died."
"Oh—I'm sorry."
"The truck is coming down
the road, so I better let you go."
"Talk to you later, Eric."
"Goodbye, Donna—tell Megan to call me if she needs any help with her math."
"Will do. Love you and it's going to work out Eric, I promise."
"I love you, too."
He didn't know how Donna could be so sure about it "working out". But he had to come face to face with the fact that he might never see his son again. And it was all his fault.
A half hour later
Eric needed a new engine for his car and it wasn't a matter of price because he and Donna were in the 'Advantage Plus' plan that sort of resembled the medical insurance concept, you show your card and depending on the services needed and if you qualified the auto club could pay for the whole thing or at the very least part of the costs. It was worth the few extra dollars just in case you were stuck in a garage in Indianapolis, when where you wanted to be was in the public library to look up information that could lead you to the whereabouts of your own son. He sat in the small waiting room with the fake wood paneling walls as the Playmate of the Year calendar looked down at him. Nice rack, but still—Eric put the newspaper down and went to the water cooler. He hated those pointy paper cups. He drank the cool water and crushed the paper cup before throwing it in the wastebasket. A man in his thirties came in from the garage to tell Eric it would be awhile so if he wanted to grab a bite to eat at one of the restaurants within walking distance it would be the time to do so.
"No, it's okay, I can wait."
"Wow—" the mechanic started to say
"What?" Eric asked
Then the guy was embarrassed over what he was thinking and excused himself to go back into the garage.
Eric shrugged his shoulders and sat back down on the uncomfortable black plastic backed chair. He finished his sandwich while he was waiting for the tow truck so he wasn't hungry, but he figured why not take a walk or two around the block to clear his head? It happened that quickly, here was Eric saddened that he couldn't go to the library until his car got fixed and maybe by then the police would be closed and the next thing he knew he saw the son that he had spent all day looking for leaning against the back wall smoking a cigarette when he finished his walk through the block going through the alley instead of walking the front sidewalks. Mark didn't see him and Eric didn't want to startle him, but he stood there for a moment just to soak his appearance in. He was wearing a sleeveless white t-shirt that was obviously covered with dirt, grime, motor oil, and general car grease, his jeans were loose but not baggy as it was probably easier to slide in and out from under cars that way, and he wore brown work boots. Eric took a deep breath not knowing what was going to be in store for. He kept a safe distance and knew he was going to have to speak.
"Hello, Mark."
He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it with his boot. Mark looked at him with a my eyes are deceiving me face.
"Pardon me," he turned to his side and putting his hand on the small door knob next to the double garage doors that was written in yellow paint 'Fogarty's Auto Repair-Employees Only' "While I DON'T entertain your guilty phase."
"Mark---" Eric softly replied, but he his son just ignored him and went back inside the employee's entrance.
'F***.'
He didn't want to go through the private entrance and was glad that his phone rang to stop him from doing just that. He didn't even bother to look at the caller ID.
"Hi, Daddy."
"Hi, Megan, are you still having trouble with your math?"
"Yeah, are you busy?"
"No, lollipop," Eric sighed as he started the walk back to the front of the garage, "Is it fractions again?"
"No. Word problems."
"Okay, read the first one to me."
Megan read the first word problem to her father as Eric went to the counter and grabbed a pencil and the back of a pizza menu that was left near the cash register. There was no sign of Mark through the little window.
"I don't get it, Dad" Megan sighed when she finished reading the problem.
"The answer is 2.5 miles."
"You aren't supposed to tell me the answers!" She could feel this weird tension and she didn't know where it was coming from.
Mark came through the front door cleaned up with the rubber smelling pink glob grease remover and Lava soap, wearing a red t-shirt that said Luigi's Pizza on it.
He didn't want to come out to the front entrance knowing that his father was out here but he had no choice.
"Megan, can I put you on hold for a minute? Okay. Mark—please," He put his phone down on the counter.
He tried to hug him thinking that was the reason for all of this in the first place. When he made the first mistake of rejecting his son's embrace.
["I know this is going to sound corny—but may I hug you—just once?"]
"Now, YOU know what it feels like." Mark did not hug his father back.
He wasted no time in exiting the premises and going to the sanctuary of his car.
Eric's heart sank to the floor as he picked up his phone. He cleared his throat before speaking.
"Megan, I'll help you with your math when I get home, I promise, can you do me a favor and put your mom on the phone?"
"Are you okay, Daddy?"
"I'm fine."
'No, Daddy—don't lie to me, like SHE does---Daddy—NO!'
"Okay. I'll talk to you later. L-love you. Hold on, while I get mom."
"I love you, too, baby."
"Hello, Eric?" Donna came to the phone about two minutes later.
"I found my son," Eric let one tear slowly fall down his face, "and Donna, he wants NOTHING to do with me."
"Oh, honey, I'm SO sorry—what happened?"
"He works at the garage that they towed my car to and when I hugged him, he rejected me the way I rejected him and told me that now I know what it feels like and he left. As soon as my car is ready I'm coming home."
"Eric, I don't want you driving tired and stressed, stay at the motel like you planned."
"I'll be okay—"
"Eric." Donna replied sharply
"Oh, all right," he sighed, "Remind Megan that I love her, I think she's mad at me, because I didn't go through all of her math problems with her."
"I will."
"I love you, Donna, I really messed things up. Once a dumbass always a dumbass."
"Don't put yourself down, Eric. You need to get some rest. It'll be better in the morning. I love you, too."
She hung up and Eric closed the phone. The thirtysomething mechanic came back out to tell Eric that his car was ready, now he knew whom he was. He was Mark's father.
"Your car is ready and your auto club paid sixty percent."
Eric tiredly took out his wallet and pulled out his Visa card.
"I know it's not my place, Mr. Forman," the mechanic put the card through the credit card machine, "But Mark DOES want to know you. Just give him time."
Eric signed his receipt on the small computer screen with the silver electronic pen, "Thanks for the heads up," he was sick of others trying to give him well meaning advice, "Do you happen to know a cheap motel around here for the night?"
"Yeah, the Red Roof Inn, it's just around the corner."
"Thanks."
The man gave him his car keys, "You can get your car in the garage. Oh, here's your receipt." He ripped it off the printer and gave Eric the pink copy.
"Thanks." Eric replied again like a robot.
All of those hours trying to find Mark and learning a little bit about in the process and it was over with in ten awkward minutes. He didn't say anything else as he put his keys in his car and left the garage. He was convinced that he would never see his son again as he parked in the lot of the moderately priced Red Roof Inn. He was so tired at the moment that he felt he could sleep forever.
Eric locked his car and went to the office to register for a place to sleep for the night. As soon as he got to his room #221—he fell asleep the moment after he took off his shoes and his head hit the extra firm pillow. His mind dreaming of the baseballs that were never tossed, dreaming of the advice about girls that was never given, and dreaming of the hugs that were never returned.
'I love you, Mark, and I'm very sorry.'