This is the third of a series of short stories about a pen. It was an idea conceived by Faye White after making a comment on one of my posts. We have agreed to come up with four stories about a pen and its travels. For me, the pen in these four stories has an encounter with someone and its task is to empower those who use it to bring their ideas, thoughts, dreams and visions on paper. I intend to post one story on four consecutive Sundays. I encourage you to visit and enjoy Faye’s stories here. Leave us comments to let us know you stopped by, we’d appreciate it.
Ronnie found the pen just as he approached the side door leading to the church basement. It was an eye-catching pen and looked expensive. He was running late so he placed it in his shirt pocket and headed inside where he met up with everyone.
He’d been coming to these meetings now for the past seven months. He was uncertain why he kept coming as there were some really off-the-wall types inside these meeting rooms, people he would not normally associate with. However, he knew he kept coming back because of the relationship he had developed with Bill. They were not the best of friends and didn’t have all that much in common as Bill was older, widowed and very outgoing while Ronnie was on the quiet side and more introverted. But, Bill had sobriety, 18 years to be exact, and there was something about him that Ronnie wanted and needed.
Even though it had only been a few months, Ronnie could remember those morning hangovers. Waking up with a dry mouth, trying to remember the events of the night before. There was an almost overwhelming fear when he couldn’t remember driving home. He had grown to accept these mornings as his normal way of life. Some mornings it was tough just sitting up in bed, trying to focus bloodshot eyes but thankful he was in his own bed. And, every so often waking up on the bathroom floor.
The topic at tonight’s meeting was on the Fourth Step of the 12 Step program. Ronnie listened intently as a couple of old-timers, both with long term sobriety, shared how the fourth step had been a major step forward in their recovery. Ronnie had not yet worked all of the steps with his sponsor. Step four seemed to be a holding place for him. His sponsor, Bill, had not pushed him, feeling he would work the steps in due time. Bill felt Ronnie had to want to work the steps when he was ready. They had been reading the Big Book together and had read through Chapter 5 on How It Works, where it outlines all the Steps. Ronnie had worked up to the third step and said the third step prayer with Bill but balked at step four. Taking an inventory, to clean house by looking at his faults, was not something he felt he needed. There were too many people who were the ones at fault and had caused him much pain.
After the meeting he gathered around to share in the fellowship the program offered. Bill walked up and gave him a big hug, a much welcomed hug. As they separated their embrace Ronnie wondered again why Bill’s presence was so calming.
“Glad you made it, my friend. How’s your day?”, Bill asked.
With a smile Ronnie responded, “It’s been good. I’m still employed and the repairs on my car didn’t damage my pocket book as I expected.” They both laughed. Ronnie pulled the pen out of his pocket and said, “Look what I found outside the church as I came to the meeting tonight.”
Bill lowered his head and peered over the top of his glasses so he took a good look at the elegant silver and gold pen in Ronnie’s hand. With his calming voice he told Ronnie, ”Man, that’s an expensive looking pen. But you know I bet it would be a great pen to write a Fourth step inventory.” Yes, Ronnie knew it was a gentle nudge to move forward in his steps and begin that fourth step inventory.
Ronnie quietly responded, “Yea, I suppose so.” Ronnie placed the pen back in his pocket hoping they could move on to something else. They both knew Bill had done what was required, so nothing else needed to be said.
Later that evening Ronnie remembered the pen and decided to look at it before going to bed. He picked up the envelope containing his electric bill, pulled off the cap on the pen and wrote down his name. The pen did have a good feel to it. Without much thought, he took out a spiral ringed notebook and walked over to his desk. It was almost 10:00 PM. He should be going to bed but somewhere within him he knew the time had arrived. At the top of the blank page he wrote, “Inventory.” At that moment there was no thought about how long this might take. His task was only to begin and finish.
