139. Insanity

I stood in the Rhinecliff Station the next morning, not in any better mood than the day I dropped Agnes off, thinking he was on his way back to Ireland. Late the previous afternoon, I received a call from Agnes' discharge planner. When she realized we were a group of destitute monks, the woman became very helpful and made arrangements for local nurse care, supplies and Medicaid releases. I was to later hear from a Medicaid worker who was also quite helpful. My pickup of Agnes was simple, because the hospital's services staff got Agnes to Penn Station in a cab. All I had to do was get off the train and wait for him at one of the 34th Street Exits.

We found a food bar and ordered coffee while we waited for a train going north.

"I've had Bouncer scour the house and remove any alcohol," I told Agnes.

"It won't be a problem," he replied. "I'll never touch the stuff again at this point."

I'd heard my Uncle Harrry say the same each time his drinking took him to desperation. He believed it. The rest of us believed what we saw each time he fell off the wagon.

"Can I ask you what all the subterfuge was about? Going home to help your dead brother?" I asked.

"I wanted a drink. I hadn't had one in over a year," he said.

"You could have had one in Saugerties, for crying out loud," I said.

"No, I mean I wanted to get absolutely stone dead shitfaced and stay that way for at least a month," he said. "Of course, I thought I just wanted one or two drinks," Agnes continued, "and it never occurred to my alcoholic mind at the time that a man doesn't launch a trip across the ocean and resurrect his dead brother as the reason ... all for one drink. But such is my insanity."

All around us commuters scurried by as if they had just done something important or were about to. Agnes looked more than haggard. He looked quite sick.

"How long before our train leaves?" he asked.

"I'm afraid it'll be another three hours ... not till four o'clock."

"I don't know if I can make it," he said.

"If you can walk outside with me, we'll get a cab to Grand Central and catch a Metro to Poughkeepsie. They leave on the hour. I'll call Cat and have him come there to get us."

Agnes leaned heavily on me as we crossed the station. For some reason, that's the memory I have him now.