"I don’t want to go home too early, ‘cuz if I go back home I’m gonna start drinkin.’"

I don’t really want to go home right away, you know I like Seattle.  I like the people.  ‘Cuz I been clean over a year now, Ben says in a softly leathered voice.  He grew up on a ranch in Saskatchewan, on the Red Pheasant reservation in Canada.
                I started going on my own when I was eighteen, I think.  Started traveling, going to places, California--used to be a  carny.  You know what a “carny” is?  He straightens his baseball cap on his head.
                Worked for the carnival.  Yeah, I did that for about 6 years.   I think that’s where I started my drugging, when I was travelling with them.  My drinking.
                Thirty three years I’ve been on the road; never did settle down.  Maybe a few weeks here, few weeks there, this is the longest I been--in Seattle.  I been here since ‘95.  I was on my way home to Canada, I was gonna take a plane but instead I took the bus.  We stopped here for a couple hours, but I ended up staying here overnight.  I been here since then.  I never left.  I never went home.   I haven’t been home in 18 years.
                But you know I keep contact with my brothers and sisters and you know they’re doin’ alright.  I’m the oldest in my family--I’m 53.  Two of my youngest brothers are doing the ranch now and one of my sisters.  I just don’t want to go home right now.
                I told ‘em I don’t want to go home too early, ‘cuz if I go back home I’m gonna start drinkin’.  You know what I mean?  He pushes his chair back from the table.
                 Because it’s always there, and I end up drinking, or doing whatever.  Cause I’m so used to being by myself, you know, when I was using.  And now I’m clean I’m starting to communicate with other people right now, cause I didn’t care about other people, I just cared about myself.  But now I’m  starting to have feelings about other people that are clean and sober, especially here. 
                He shifts himself back in his chair and taps his fingers on the table.
                You know I like helping out.  I think this place keeps me clean and sober ‘cuz usually when I’m done here I go home.  You know kick back and relax.  I just broke up with my girlfriend because she was drinking.  I told her I gotta think about my recovery. 
                Ben has the black, glossy hair of his people, long down his back; his gaze, quiet, looking down a road.
                I don’t think I want to go back out that way ever again.   I didn’t care about myself, I didn’t care about anybody, always gotta be me, you know, stuff like that.  I was tired of my life.  I coulda’ been dead a long time, I came so close a couple of times.  I’m so lucky of my life today, after 33 years of using.  Numbers roll out of him, markers on the road:  33 years traveling, 18 years since he’s been home.
                 This time I’ll die if I go back out, you know, cuz there’s nothing stopping me from using again.  But the support I got, they give me reasons to quit.  I don’t have any triggers; I never think about it, you know.     But I feel pretty good every day.    If I’m feeling lonely or depressed I can talk to my sponsor; he’ll tell me to go to meetings.  I feel better when I get out , instead of, you know, using.  That’s all I know all my life.
                I got good people around me.
                If I keep this up I’ll have my life left.
                I hope to go home one of these days.  I was thinking of going home this year or next year.  When I’m ready, then I’ll go home.  I wanna get a little stronger, cause I’m just a beginner on this stuff.  And if I go back I know there’s gonna be parties out there and everything.  One of my sisters od’ed back in the 70’s, on pills when she was sixteen.  She would have been 50 today.  I was only three years older than her.  She was the second oldest in the family.  It hurt a little bit, I don’t know it seemed like it never bothered me, it seemed like I didn’t care even when my dad and mom passed away it never hit me.  Like you know some other people they cry, they get depressed they get lonely and I never felt like that.  Seems like I never cared about my family in my life.
                You know today I think about it, you know, I was too busy doin’ other stuff and I didn’t even go to their funerals.  I didn’t care about them at all. I missed them a little bit but not like I was supposed to, you know?  I didn’t go the funeral,  I didn’t do stuff like that, it just didn’t bother me.
                My dad was 70, my mom was 78.  I don’t even know to this day what they died of, you know?  I wasn’t there.  I don’t know what kind of sickness they had. You know stuff like that you want to find out what they died of, you know.  But I didn’t know that.  My mom died first.  And my dad was really lonely.  I think that’s what killed my dad.   They always be together, they never be apart, they working side by side, when they travel they go together.  They were always together.
                That’s why he died.  He missed my mom.  How could you get that lonely though?  
                Ben turns, looks at me, perplexed.
              
                Sometimes I still get confused about things you know, these drugs that I did they messed up my mind.  I can’t seem to concentrate too long.  Maybe if I’m reading on something I’ll have to read it two, three times, just to understand it, you know.  A long time ago I didn’t have that problem.
                But I’m almost done with my GED, I only have two tests left.  I’m still having a hard time with math, and my essay--I don’t like those.  I almost quit,  I was getting frustrated with it, and my teacher said” Take your time.”
                 I’ll do it one of these days, I’m not in a hurry.
                When I do finish my GED my goal is to go back home and work for the tribal band.  My people are still there, they’re always there for me.
                They worry about me, when I’m gonna come home.