Chapter 78

the sound: Leehorn – China White, Velvet Undergound - Heroin, Lou Reed - Heroin, Neil Young – The Needle and the Damage is Done, Eric Clapton – Cocaine, Jackson Browne – Cocaine

Gus turned out to be just the kind of weasely, greasy little fellows one would suspect a drug dealer would look like in those days.

“how cliché” I thought as I led him into the bedroom to speak to Robert

“get lost Baby” Robert suggested as I ushered Gus through the door

“what? No welcoming kiss?” Gus sniggered as he made a grab for my breast when I walked past him

“maybe you handn’t heard Gus” Robert spoke softly “Baby is my Canadian girl...soon to be my wife if Mrs. K has anything to do with it…”

Gus threw me a look of sympathy and I found myself angered that this little spit, this little despicable ant of a man felt anything like sympathy for me.

“Fuck you” I said succinctly as I headed for the door.

Gus made a noise and a sound behind me and I turned in time to see him reaching for me but stopped in his tracks as Robert leveled his 45 at Gus’s head. “ya might not want to upset me Gus…I’m a little shaky today”

Gus sniggered his greasy uncomfortable little laugh “Robert, Robert, Robert let’s not be hasty…you have something I’d like...and I have something you need…”

“Gus…yer right…you do have something I need…but I’ll be fucked if yer having Baby before me…” I saw the beads of sweat on Robert’s brow and understood just how much holding that pistol up was costing him.

“Fine then…lets talk” Gus replied.

I left the room.

Not long after Gus left, I walked into the bedroom at Robert’s call. “Baby…I need my works…in the bottom drawer in the bathroom”

“get em yerself” I swore…

Again the fist with the pistol came up…”I ain’t arguing with you little girl…get me my works or it’s gonna get right fuckin ugly in here….”

“win the fight and lose the war” I thought to myself as I got Robert’s kit out of the drawer and stomped into the bedroom to toss them on the bed.

“Fine…yer on yer own” I barked…

“Not quite….I’m gonna need some help” was Robert’s reply

I argued for a bit…but in the end, Robert and his 45 were convincing…

I sat on the side of the bed closest to the table and opened the kit. I took out the belt and the glass syringe and laid them on the table top. I took out the spoon and I placed a hefty amount of the powder from the packet Robert handed me into the bowl of the spoon and very carefully added a couple of drops of water…I picked up the syringe and checked the point for barbs and then stirred the mixture in the spoon carefully...I set down the syringe and picked up Robert’s Zippo looking up to meet his eyes...

“You’ve done this before” Robert commented.

“yeah” I sighed and felt the sweat begin…my arm itched and my hands trembled just the tiniest bit…

This was the closest I’d been to a kit or powder since Michael had died and in a moment all that sadness and desperation came flooding back to me...

"what the fuck" I thought...

I remembered gladly the comfort in not feeling anything and I no longer knew if I had the strength to walk away.