"I'm not hurting anyone but myself." This was my new litany, and I mumbled it repeatedly as I waited for Frank to open the door.
Four Days On a Trail of TearsM. Stanley Bubien
Day 4 -- User
"Whoa! Jimmy boy! Surprise, surprise!" Frank clapped me on the back.
"Yeah," I replied. "I guess so."
He led me inside and gestured toward the couch. I sat, and he spoke to me as he retrieved his stash from the usual hiding place.
"Boy, you sure know when to come by for a visit." He broke a seal and poured the crystallized powder onto the mirror. "This is the best I've had in a while. My friend at the PD lifted a couple of lids. He said this was as pure as it gets. And I'll tell you what---he wasn't kidding!"
Frank drew out the lines.
After we were both holding our nostrils and sniffing, I asked, "How much for an ounce?"
"An ounce?" He stiffened, but told me anyway.
I slipped him enough for two.
"Yo! I thought you were broke!" he said. "Where'd you come up with that kinda cash?"
"I sold the Mercedes," I replied, dragging my hand across my brow. I don't know why I told him. I guess it just slipped out.
"The Mercedes! Wasn't that your wife's car? How'd she ever agree to that?"
At this point, I figured what the hell, I may as well tell him the rest. "She thinks it's in the shop."
"Oh, you sly dog you!" he laughed.
As Frank weighed out the ounces, I returned to my litany.
Author's Note: Each day in this series is based on a true story, inspired by the very real people I encountered during my own experiences with drug use.
Copyright ©1996 M. Stanley Bubien. All Rights Reserved.
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