A Garden of Misunderstanding: Dree RainCave fanfic continued

     "Young man, hurry up now!" Stan's mother yelled in the direction of Dree RainCave's bathroom where he had gone to hide from gardening for as long as possible.  Not even ten minutes.  "Yes Ma'am," he replied to the doorway silently gritting his teeth.  Majestic head-butted his human.  "I'm going, I'm going," Dree mumbled.

     She was waiting for him in the hallway.  "Here, gloves and a hat," she ordered.  "I don't wear hats," Dree said before he could stop himself.  "You do now, Sonny," she told him.  "What kind of a name is Dree.  Don't tell me you're one of them hippie types.  Up the rebels and all of that."  Dree didn't answer back.  He was.  "Come along," Mrs. Stan's Mother ordered him.  "The bees and the humidity will not be waiting for the likes of you."

     Dree was given a few well-taken care of hand tools and a wheelbarrow.  "Weeds," that Damn Stan said.  Dree bent to his task.  The hours flew.  Lunch came.  Soon enough, the sun began to sink behind the trees.  Stan showed Dree how to clean up the tools and where to put the weeds before the three of them went in to eat.  "Take a shower first," Stan directed.  "Dinner will be in a half hour."

     Dree found a starving Majestic in the bedroom, a stinky litter box in the closet, and a fresh pair of jeans and t-shirt in the bathroom.  This time, the t-shirt was brilliant red and proclaimed loudly in white letters "My lawyer can beat up your lawyer."  Dree took care of Majestic and his stink, then he showered and changed.  He noticed a new pile of books by his nightstand.  He'd examine them later.

     Dinner was actually pleasant.  Dree was too hungry to talk.  He nodded at whatever Stan and his mother were talking about.  It seemed to be a discussion about foreign policy.  Stan's mother had whipped together potato and cheese pierogis, beets and onions, and there were bowls of chilled strawberries for dessert.  Without being asked to, after dinner Dree rinsed off the dishes and stacked them into the dishwasher.  Stan's mother made a pot of coffee then and set three cups on the kitchen table.  The phone rang.  Stan excused himself.

     "You're coming with me tonight," Mrs. Stan's Mother remarked offhandedly to Dree.  Dree nodded.  He knew that it was in his best interest to do whatever the woman told him to.  After the coffee was gone, Dree followed her obediently out to a car in the garage.

     Dree was afraid of That Damn Stan's Mother.  Within the last twenty-four hours he had learned that she would not hesitate to rat him out if he got high, that she didn't like "hippies" very much except for her son who had redeemed himself by also being a top-notch lawyer, and that she could work circles around him in the garden.  He soon found her speeding along the back roads like Mario Andretti.  He clutched the dashboard.  "You nervous, Sonny?"  "No, Ma'am," he lied.  "Yeah you are," she told him directly, "You'll get used to my driving in a few weeks."  Dree hoped to be dropped off at another location yesterday.  He wiped at beads of sweat collecting under the red baseball cap that had been left with tonight's clothing.  The car lurched into a driveway and banged into a parking spot.  Mrs. Stan's Mother opened the driver's side door.  "We're here."  Dree RainCave wasn't sure of where exactly "here" was but he got out of the car and followed her into the basement of a church.

     "Sit," she told him.  He sat.  She disappeared then, leaving him to observe the people filtering into the room.  They were a noisy bunch, cursed quite a bit, and formed into little knots of conversations.  Mrs. Stan's Mother returned and thrust a Styrofoam cup of coffee at Dree RainCave.  He took it. 

     Mrs. Stan's Mother went up to the table in front and banged a gavel.  She began to read some words off of a card.  More words were read by different people.  Oh shit, Dree thought.  She's dragged me to a bloody meeting of dopers.  I just smoke a bit of weed.  I don't have a problem.  He had little choice.  He had to sit through the meeting or face her certain wrath later on.  He sat.  He said nothing.  Ninety minutes later, the room stood up and linked arms.  Dree figured he would go along with it.  Whatever, he thought.  The group chanted some words that he didn't know.  Then the meeting was over. 

     Mrs. Stan's Mother did not appear to be in any hurry to leave.  A group of guys surrounded Dree and asked him stuff.  How long have you been using?  Did you go to treatment?  Are you in Drug Court?  How long have you been clean?  Dree blinked at them and said, "Huh?"  One old guy patted Dree's shoulder.  "It will get better," he said.  "Here's a meeting schedule and some phone numbers.  That one is mine," he indicated his name-- Roger-- with a grimy fingernail, "Call if you want to talk."  Dree mumbled a hasty thanks.  Mrs. Stan's Mother swooped down on him just then.  "I see you've met Roger Dodger," she said warmly, winking at him.  "Good to see you Roger.  Come on Sonny, time to go home now."  Dree nodded in relief.  "Bye," he said as Mrs. Stan's Mother pulled him out of the room.

     The ride home was worse.  It was dark.  There were no street lights on the back roads.  "Someday, all of our tomorrows will be yesterday," Mrs. Stan's Mother intoned mysteriously after cresting a hill at eighty miles per hour.  "But not yet," Dree said while clutching the dashboard.  "He speaks!" Mrs. Stan's Mother laughed.  But she did not slow down.

     Back in the house, she bid him a good night.  He stumbled into the bedroom.  The books were waiting on the nightstand.  He glanced at the titles.  Narcotics Anonymous.  Sponsorship.  Living Clean.  "But I'm not an addict," he told Majestic as he sat on the bed.  Majestic meowed loudly and sprang off the bed into the closet.  He came back with a small green mouse toy and deposited it into Dree RainCave's hand.  Dree swung his legs up onto the bed.  Majestic hissed at him.  Obviously, Dree would have to throw the mouse for Majestic to fetch a dozen times or so until the cat tired of the game.  Majestic deposited the mouse at the foot of the bed and curled around it.  Dree shut off the lamp by the bed and was asleep with a quickness.  He did not hear the phone ringing a few minutes later.


                              ~ to be continued ~