Four Days

Four Days On a Trail of Tears
Day 4 -- User

M. Stanley Bubien

"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.

"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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September, 1996
Issue #6

Four Days