WyzWmn's World©

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.

the sound: AC/DC – Thunderstruck

By the time Robert got out of the hospital I’d been moved from Mrs. K’s house down the hill to Robert’s.

I’d spent a bunch of time fighting the move, and trying to convince just about anyone that I talked to that I wanted to go home…but all the men just smiled knowingly, and most of the women refused to look me in the eye. Those that did, did so with such a sadness that I really truly got more and more afraid all the time.

The day Robert got out of the hospital there was a huge production.

Robert, of course, wanted to ride…his mother would have no part of it…so Robert came home in the passenger seat of one of the Cadillacs. Rosie and Mrs. K rode in the back while I sat wedged between Robert and Grey.

Mrs K having made the arrangements for the “young lovebirds” to sit together and Robert didn’t fit in the back of the car.

We arrived out at the farm and ushered Robert into the bedroom, the one with the big 4 poster bed and the bathtub the size of a pond. Robert’s bedroom was the room that I’d made myself at home in from the beginning and now all I could think of is finding a way to get my little bit of gear gathered and getting out….out of the bedroom, out of the house, out of the country.

Mrs. K and I got Robert settled into bed and Mrs. K handed me a prescription bottle. I read the label. It was dilaudid for pain. He was to have them at scheduled intervals and Mrs. K was happy to tell me that “even should he rage at me…he was not allowed more than the prescribed amount.”

“Fat chance I’ve got of stopping him” I thought…but for once wisely kept my trap shut.

Mrs. K left advising everyone that “the fiancé” was in charge of Robert’s care and they should all leave the “lovebirds” alone. She smiled, in what I’m sure she believed to be a kindly manner, and left.

I walked back into the bedroom to find Robert with the pill bottle in his hand, open and shaking literally a handful of dilaudid into his palm.

“they ain’t gonna last long if you take em all now” I said.

“shaddup and get me Gus the Greek on the phone” came the reply.

I left the bedroom and went into the kitchen to find Rosie and find out how to reach one “Gus the Greek”.

Rosie’s face dropped “no…he wouldn’t” she said.

“he wouldn’t what?” I asked

“Gus is the go to guy for china white in this neck of the woods” she replied.

“heroin? He wants heroin?” just making myself clear.

“apparently…that he does” Rosie said as she dialed the phone and handed it to me…”apparently he wants to speak to Gus” and she shushed me out of the kitchen towards the bedroom.

Gus arrived a couple of hours later…by that time there was no one to be found anywhere on the property. Just Robert in his big bed, and me, perched on the ottoman in the livingroom desperately trying to figure out how I’d landed where I was…and how the hell I was gonna get out.