A Bit of a Mess

I woke up suddenly to the sound of my phone ringing on the other side of the room. My wife stirred a little beside me, but didn’t wake up. With a mumbled complaint I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Who the Hades would be calling at… I paused in my thoughts and tried to focus my blurry eyes on the clock… two AM. I got up slowly and moved to the other side of the room, picking up my phone and answering groggily.
“Hello, Detective Badet?” came an unfamiliar voice.
“Yes,” I said. “Who is this?”
“You don’t know me, but…”
I cut him off angrily. “Then why the frick are you calling me at two AM?”
“You know a man named Alistair, right?”
I became suddenly alert at the mention of that name. “Yeah, he’s my second cousin.”
“Well, I’m his landlord. He’s sleepwalking and disturbing the neighbors.”
“So wake him up.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“That’s a common misconception. Use a sharp loud noise from a safe distance, and he should be fine.”
Before the landlord could respond I heard loud yelling and scuffling sounds from the other end of the line.
“What’s happening?” I asked quickly.
“My son tried to wake him up, and he started attacking him!”
“Dang it!” I said with a sigh. “If people would just do a little research before doing this… Okay. Have everyone around him move back a safe distance. Just make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. I’ll be there in five.”
I hung up the phone, wrote a quick note to my wife, ran downstairs, and got into my car. It didn’t end up even taking me five minutes to reach my cousin’s apartment building. I saw a group of five or so people standing by the door, and several yards away I saw the figure of my cousin standing very still at the edge of the swimming pool. He was wearing nothing but an old bathrobe which was tied loosely around his waist. I saw him shiver as the cold December wind blew over him. I jumped out of my car and closed the distance between us in an instant, ignoring the little group of people who were staring at me from the apartment door.
“Alistair,” I said gently, keeping a few feet away from him. “Alistair, wake up, Bud. Hey! Can you hear me?”
He didn’t move. I took a few steps forward. I needed to get him away from the edge of the pool. Very slowly I reached my hands and pulled him gently backwards. He took a few steps with me, then stopped dead in his tracks, pushing me away.
“Alistair!” I tried again with a sharp, loud cry. “Poirot…! Father Brown…! Colombo…! Holmes...!”
At my last word Alistair snapped awake. He turned around swiftly and stared at me with his wild blue eyes.
“Watson?” he said slowly, blinking and raising his hand to his head. “What in heaven’s name am I doing out here?”
“You were sleepwalking, Alistair,” I said softly. I was none too keen on the little group of bystanders overhearing our conversation.
“Alistair?” he asked, looking at me. “Alistair?”
“That’s you, Holmes. You’re Alistair. And you need to come inside now. It’s cold out here.”
I reached out my hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, he took it. I lead him inside, completely ignoring the landlord and others who stared at us as we went upstairs together. Once inside Alistair’s apartment I let go of his hand and sat him down in a chair.
“You want something to drink?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Uncle Dave?” he asked.
I nodded. He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face.
“What – what happened out there?”
“You were sleepwalking. You back to yourself now?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Where are my glasses? I can’t see anything.”
I glanced over towards his bed. “They’re on your nightstand. I’ll get them.”
When I did he slipped them onto his face.
“You look like Harry Potter with those things on,” I said with a smile as I poured myself a glass of milk from his fridge. “You should try cosplaying him sometime.”
“Thanks,” he glared at me, “but I’ve already got enough personalities in my head.”
“Are you still taking your medication?” I asked.
He bit his lower lip.
“Dang it, Al!” I exclaimed angrily. “You can’t just quit that stuff. You need it to keep you healthy.”
“It’s too expensive! It’s not like I can ever keep jobs for very long. I don’t have the money to keep getting it refilled.”
“What about your insurance? Don’t they pay for most of it?”
“Seriously? I’ve got like 15 preexisting conditions. No insurance company wants to take much responsibility for a schizophrenic, DID insomniac with Binge Eating Disorder and substance abuse issues.”
“You mean you don’t have insurance?”
“Sure I do, but they won’t pay for medication for my preexisting conditions – everything. I’m good if I get the common cold, but if I have an episode and hurt myself, I’m sunk.”
I let out a sigh. “Ok. How about this? If you promise me you’ll take your medication, I promise you that you won’t have to worry about paying for it.”
He frowned. “If you want.”
“I do want. The doctors said you’d never be able to function normally without your medication.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be normal.”
“You know very well, Alistair, that by normal they don’t mean liking Twilight, watching The Big Bang Theory, listening to pop, eating at Subway and drinking Starbucks coffee. They mean being able to function properly in a public setting, eating regular meals, sleeping for more than four hours a night, and controlling how much beer you drink at the bar.”
Alistair hung his head.
“Look, Al,” I said gently, putting my hand on his shoulder. “You know I’ll be here for you, and like you, no matter what you do or who you are or how often you binge or disturb the peace. But there are things that can be done to help you – not to change you – but to help you be a better you, and be who you really are.”
“What if what I really am stinks? I need, I need those other people, Uncle Dave. Without them, I can’t do anything.”
I patted his shoulder. “You should probably go back to bed.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Alistair stood up, moved over to his bed, and sat back down.
“You know,” I said, pulling the blanket over him. “You should probably wear underwear at night, just in case you sleep walk again. Things could get embarrassing.”
He smiled a little and closed his eyes. I smiled too.
“Well, g’night. Try to get some sleep. I’ll check on you in the morning.”
I patted his shoulder and moved towards the door. I was just about to leave when a thought struck me.
“Alistair,” I said.
“Yeah?” he replied without opening his eyes.
“I thought your binge eating and substance abuse was getting better.”
He was silent for a moment.
“It’s because you haven’t had any cases recently, isn’t it?”
He said nothing, but his silence spoke for itself.
“Al…” I sighed. “You know you should be happy when people don’t get murdered.”
“If that happened we’d both be out of a job.”
I couldn’t help but smile. After all, he was right.