Bethel's Meadow Read Online Free PDF Page A

Beady Eyes to make amends. Less than a week after my final visit to Tabak’s office I received a letter from him stating that his services would no longer be available to me. I wasn’t exactly heartbroken about the whole thing, but burning that bridge had really left my ass in a crack now.
    I recalled Sidebottom once mentioning that he had a doctor friend who freely handed out samples and prescriptions to anyone who asked for them. So I picked up the phone and called him about it.
    “Hey, Smith,” he answered. “What happened back there at the library? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
    “I’m sorry about all of that,” I said. “I’m just as sick as a dog right now, and the last thing I need is to get flirty with the same librarian who probably checks out Caitlin’s books.”
    “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m there all the time and I can’t recall having seen Cathleen more than a time or two. God, you really need to get away from her and find someone a little nicer.”
    “You’re there all the time?” I asked. I was trying to change the subject. I really didn’t want to listen to Sidebottom rant about Caitlin, despite the fact I was beginning to agree with him about her.
    “Yeah, I’ve been there almost every day since you and I got replaced by the Indians at the bank last year,” Sidebottom said. “Hell, I’ve got nothing but time now. Nobody’s hiring. Besides, I have enough money to last for a while. So I hang out at the library and catch up on my Shakespeare.”
    “You know that doctor friend of yours you were telling me about?” I asked him. “You know, the one that prescribes you Viagra?”
    “Cialis, actually,” he said. “But yeah, Dr. Sam Fleming is a really old friend of mine. The doc keeps all kinds of pharmaceutical candy in this big chest at—”
    “Can you hook me up with him?”
    “Her. Dr. Samantha Fleming is a her .”
    “You never mentioned that the doctor was a woman.”
    “What diff does it make? Anyway, why you asking? You need some boner pills? If so, no prob. She’ll hook you right up.”
    “No, though my pecker doesn’t get used much of late, it works just fine,” I said. “I just need a prescription for some . . . Well, I need some sleeping pills. Look, it’s late Friday afternoon. I can’t wait until Monday to see a doctor.”
    “Say no more,” Wally said reassuringly. “Hold on and I’ll call her and then call you right back.”
    Two minutes later: “How about meeting me at six o’clock at 52 Palms?” Sidebottom said, referring to a nearby restaurant and bar. “She won’t get there until seven or so, but we need to get there early to grab a booth in the bar. The doc won’t sit at the bar or at a table in the restaurant—only the booth. Besides, it’ll give you and me a chance to chat it up without a librarian telling us to shush.”
    It was still just a little after two, and I didn’t know what to do with myself until my rendezvous with Sidebottom. So I drew myself another bath and plopped back into the tub.
    …
     
    After Sidebottom and I—along with twelve others—had been laid off several months ago from our IT consulting jobs, I realized I potentially faced a protracted period of unemployment, especially given the bad economy.
    “What are you going to do if you can’t find immediate work?” I had asked Sidebottom.
    “Well . . .” he had said thoughtfully while rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Now that you mention it, I think I’m going to finally write that novel I’ve always wanted to write. I mean, even if it never gets picked up by an agent or a publisher, I would at least have a finished manuscript that I could maybe self-publish. I could leave it out on my coffee table at home, and when chicks came over to my pad they’d see my name on the cover of a book. A book, man, a book! You know who Charles Bukowski was? Only the ugliest motherfucker to have ever written a novel. And that