Total Immersion by Ellis Carrington

Author:Ellis Carrington [Carrington, Ellis]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Bale

June 8, 2013

Cappadocia

Yildiz Hotel

I’D SEEN ads all over different parts of Turkey for this stuff called “lion’s milk.” Raki. It’s this clear liquor they like to sit around and sip from shot glasses, or sometimes they pour it over ice, and it turns white. I guess that’s how the stuff came by its nickname. Tonight, they had served some with dinner.

With Evan’s arm slung over my shoulder, I studied the long, stone-carved stairs ahead of us. No, of course the hotel didn’t have an elevator. Everything around here had been elegantly carved from a metric fuckton of rock. Funny how a few hours ago I thought that was so cool. Now?

Oh, shitballs, I was drunk.

Not “can’t feel my toes” fucked-up. Wasn’t gonna start puking on anyone or anything. But definitely at least two sheets to the wind. Two and a half, tops.

They’d warned us the stuff had more than 40 percent alcohol or something nuts like that, and honestly I wasn’t a drinker. So I’d stuck to sipping. Plus, unless my tongue deceived me, it tasted licorice-y and that was not my favorite flavor. Still, I had that floaty, friendly thing going on that you get when you’ve been introduced to a new alcoholic beverage by the grandfatherly waiter who’s been extra nice to your injured roommate, so you take the drink and try some to be polite in return. Then after a few more sips I could have sworn my insides were glowing. Once I was buzzed, drinking more seemed like an excellent plan.

Now, staring up at these stairs…. “Are they maybe weaving back and forth a little?”

“The stairs? Shit, you’re drunker than I am.” Evan pulled away some. “You know, I think I’m up for handling the stairs on my own.”

“Not possible, buddy. You really took that challenge to heart.” Our waiter told Evan he didn’t think such a skinny American could drink two glasses of Raki. Evan’s not that skinny in my opinion, but my man had totally taken the bait. I tightened my arm around him. “Come on, buddy, let’s do this.”

I worried about him after what he’d told me that day in Istanbul, about how he used alcohol to medicate sometimes. Truth? I’d been keeping an eye out. How many painkillers a day. How many ibuprofen versus big white pills that looked like something stronger. How much he drank. It seemed like he’d eased off the drinking, but tonight he was downing this lion’s milk disturbingly fast. Still, he’d been a real trouper on that path today. He hadn’t even given me shit for fibbing and pushing him to go the whole distance to the bus.

“Aight,” Evan slurred. “Let’s conquer this bitch.”

I steeled myself and focused on the top of the long staircase. “All right. One foot at a time. No sweat.”

I hadn’t lied earlier to be cruel; I just knew Evan could make it to the bus if he tried. He’s stronger than he gives himself credit for. And I worried if we stopped for a break, getting up again to finish the walk to the bus would be that much harder.

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