December 3, 2008

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: Dennis is a really good guy.

I’m staying with his Aunt Elise. I don’t know if she owes Dennis or she’s in a feud with his parents and feels bad or something, but he must have called in a favor. She didn’t seem thrilled with the situation when she picked me up at the hospital. Don’t get me wrong, she was very nice to me, and after all, she’s letting me stay in her house, so she’s justified in treating me however she fucking wants. But it was just this little hesitation I thought I saw when she talked.

I don’t know. Maybe it would just be awkward for her to ask me about why I needed to stay with her in the first place. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. Based on this journal, it wouldn’t be the first time.

But that was on Sunday, and it’s been a few days, and things have been a little better. Elise and Jack - her husband, Dennis’s uncle - have some extra space. They had twins who both just left the house, one for college and one for the Air Force, so I think they like having a younger person around. And I’ve been trying to make myself useful. Cleaning up where I can, doing the dishes, stuff like that. It’s the least I can do. Once I’m back on my feet I’ll bring them some money or a gift as a thank-you.

If I’m being totally honest, I feel a little weird about the whole thing. I’m grateful, of course, but I’ll never be able to pay Dennis back for this. And I was mad at him, I remember that. For reasons that make no sense now. I was being completely selfish and did everything but slam the door in his face, and he still came through for me. I never would have thought I’d deserve something like that. My own parents would probably say no if I asked them for this. I mean…they basically cut me off when I was laid off. They’ve never been big believers in the idea of helping someone stand back up. Much more along the lines of once you’re down and out, you should stay down and out, regardless of how you got there. All of this supportive shit is new to me.

Which is why…god, I can’t believe I did this. It’s why I opened up to them about the Machine tonight.

I know, it was probably a bad idea. They probably think I’m crazy now. Dennis did when I told him all those months ago. But they just…Elise only really knew that I was hospitalized from exposure, and Jack didn’t know anything about the situation, and he asked one question, and before I knew it, it was all coming out.

Even saying it aloud felt insane. The rats, the construction, the Music, stealing that little girl’s pet. I don’t know what got into me back then. I don’t know what had me going down that path.

And yet, even as I was saying it…I don’t know. It feels like there’s still something there. It’s crazy, I know, and I have to keep reminding myself that. The therapist they had me seeing at the hospital talked about how we sometimes sink deep into a project and make connections that aren’t there to escape bad circumstances in life, and I was definitely not in good circumstances when I bought the Machine, so maybe that’s all it was? It’s hard to believe, given the effect it had on me.

Anyway, after I finished telling them about it, they just stared for a minute or two. Then they both tried to talk at the same time, then they figured it out and Jack started. He said that he’s glad I shared that with them, and it seems like it’s been a bad couple of months. He said it’s clear that I had some kind of mental break, and I should keep working on that, but I need to just try to move on with my life, try to get back up and take control again.

He meant well, but honestly? I think it was for him more than for me. It’s better that he talked instead of Elise – she did not look happy after I finished – but he didn’t say anything I couldn’t have gotten from a high school guidance counselor. I think he just wanted to move past the conversation. All he really said to do was to pick myself back up, which I don’t think is really groundbreaking or anything.

I guess…I don’t know. I’ve only been here a few days, but I still feel this…this call, or compulsion, or something. It doesn't feel like addiction, though. It feels like concern.

And I think it’s Nigel.

That's weird, right? Maybe not. There are a lot of things I don't remember, but I can clearly see the moment I saw him, in that awful couple’s basement, looking at me with complete trust. I don't think he followed me back, which means he's still out there. He's not like other rats. He's a pet, probably hasn't spent any time outdoors. Might even be dead already.

But I don’t know. He was there for me when no one else was. He was a good companion. I feel like I need to at least go back and see if he’s there. And a lot of the things I’ve done, I feel like I haven’t had a choice. It will be good to choose to do this.

I know where they found me. Maybe I can guess the direction where I came from. It’s been a few weeks, so there’s probably not a trail, but maybe I’ll get lucky. I’m a little worried about…you know, everything else that might be there. But I think I’ll be fine. I’ve learned my lesson with it. I still have the piece of the Machine that I took with me. I’ve held it in my fingers many times. It’s just a piece of wood.

I know it’s just a piece of wood.

There’s supposed to be snow next week, and it’s supposed to be bad, so I should go before then. I think I’ll go this weekend.

I need to find my friend.

"This Machine Belongs to" is a production of Halfwit Podcasts. This episode was written by Matt Spaziani. Vernon Wright is voiced by Jonathan Swenson. Based on the journaling game "The Machine" by Adira and Fen Slattery.

If you'd like to support our endless toil with the machine or listen to our other podcasts, visit HalfwitPodcasts.com, or find specific links in the show notes of each episode. 

Lastly, the most efficient way to build The Machine is by telling friends of its importance in our once meaningless lives. Some day, This Machine could belong to you.