Lester's Getting a Bottle

• Alcoholism
• Hospitalization
• Pancreatitis

Henry stepped off the bus onto the curb at the corner of Broadway and Sheridan. It was March and cold in Chicago, but the sun was bright and Henry narrowed his eyes to the light. He stood holding a plastic grocery bag under his arm as the bus pulled away from its exhaust. He crossed Broadway into the shadow of the Hotel Chateau.

“Where you been, Henry?” said the manager from behind his glass.

“Hospital.”

The manager moved his face close to the hole for talking. “Tomorrow's the first, don't forget.”

A few men reclined on broken-down couches in the dim lobby. Henry paused a moment, then moved carefully toward the elevator. He closed the accordion-like steel door and gazed upward at the small ceiling where a naked bulb burned. The elevator accelerated upward, and he sensed a numbness move down his legs. He opened the door to his room and put the bag on his bed, seating himself on the edge. He bent his old head and ran his fingers through his matted gray hair. The …