“Whatever you stole,” I said, “I guess you already ate it all, right?”
. . .
“Let me check your pockets, man.”
He stood still for a minute, and I found his stash. I left him two of each, whatever they were.
This is the second time the narrator has checked on Georgie in the operating room. The first time, he discovered his friend trembling and crying as he mopped a clean floor that he imagined was covered in blood. This time, Georgie stares in terror at the floor and frets about the squishing noise his shoes make. Clearly, Georgie has already consumed the pills, and they are causing him to have horrific hallucinations. Georgie’s dependence on drugs leads him to steal them from his employer and work while under their influence. Both actions could get him fired. Working high could prove dangerous to the patients and himself.
The narrator’s dependence, in turn, leads him to steal drugs from Georgie. He perhaps feels generous, leaving him “two of each” in his pocket. The extent of the narrator’s dependence is evident in his willingness to steal from a friend and to consume unknown drugs, despite witnessing their detrimental effects on Georgie.
On the farther side of the field, just beyond the curtains of snow, the sky was torn away and the angels were descending out of a brilliant blue summer, their huge faces streaked with light and full of pity.
Lost in the woods in a snowstorm, the narrator and Georgie wander toward the sunset. In his drugged state, the narrator hallucinates, mistaking a drive-in theater for a military cemetery.
The narrator’s hallucination is both beautiful and terrifying. Instead of speakers, he sees grave markers. Instead of a film projected on a movie screen, he perceives a tear in the sky and angels descending from it, as if from Heaven. The imagery is beautiful despite its disconnection from reality. Through these images, the narrator suggests that despite the ills of drug use, there are exceptional moments. And these moments, in turn, may feed the addiction cycle to which he may be subject.