Sadly, Roxanne continued to assure her mother that she wasn’t going to let this affect her chances of getting her bachelor’s degree. She assured her mother she was going to finish college. She was going to graduate. Margaret admired her daughter’s tenacity, her spirit and her will to move past this traumatic event, although it only happened just yesterday.
Margaret knew if this happened to her at twenty-two years old she would have never had the perseverance to carry on.
They spent the entire day talking. For the most part just being together. Roxanne did not want to talk about the actual rape. So Erika and Margaret respected her wishes.
***
Adam had partied all night and all day long with the cash Tony copped from the robbery. They needed more money. Adam talked Tony into dropping him off at his mother’s house.
Tony parked a few blocks away and let Adam walk to the huge brick home. They were just being paranoid. Their excessive drug abuse made them fear senseless trivial things.
It was past midnight and nearly one in the morning when they made their way to Adam’s old neighborhood. Adam knew his mother would be asleep. She was usually in bed by nine-thirty.
Adam had been kicked out the house over a year ago. He was sure he could break into his mother’s house. His old neighborhood was decent and upper middle class. The last time he was at the house she didn’t have a security system. She threatened to install one after a few pieces of her jewelry came up missing. She never called the police as far as he was aware. She did change the locks.
Adam figured she knew he took the jewelry. The only time he felt bad about it was when he wasn’t high and he was always high so he really didn’t give a shit. His mother had more money than she could deal with and his father didn’t leave him or Daniel anything when he died. His father’s last will and testament clearly left everything to his beloved wife Jane Hardwick. This didn’t upset Adam at first but after his father’s death it was clear his mother was favoring Daniel over him.
Daniel was always the smartest son. Living in Daniel’s shadow proved to be an impossible task for Adam. Instead of trying to compete with Daniel he decided to give up and give in to whatever temptation came his way.
When he got his first hit of heroin he immediately fell in love. It was just the thing he needed to get through the day without feeling the loss of his father and the constant agony and shame of not being good enough.
Smoking weed was the minor leagues. Adam started out drinking and smoking weed. He moved to snorting coke before he graduated to smack.
Heroin actual made his pain go away. One hit made him feel like an angel soaring in the clouds. The euphoric feeling was magical. He had never felt such a pure high before and he would do anything to feel it again and again.
Adam never wanted to relive the day his father died. He was the one that was there. He was the one who helplessly watched as his father took his last breath. No one could understand how it affected him. Seeing his father’s eyes lose life was the day he felt he lost his own life. Only heroin could bring Adam back to life. Or so he believed.
Adam was never able to open up and express his feelings after his father died. He completely shut down. Even his therapists couldn’t get him to open up and share his feelings, his fears or his list of inadequacies.
His brother Daniel was two years older than Adam and a mama’s boy. Adam was his father’s son. He was his dad’s relentless shadow. They loved all the same things. Adam’s father always accepted Adam regardless of his flaws and mistakes. Drugs were the only way Adam could numb the pain, any drugs, all drugs. He didn’t particularly care, the harder the better.
Sometimes he even wondered if he overdosed and died would he see his father in heaven? He wondered if he would even get to heaven. His lifestyle didn’t guarantee him a ticket but he would just take his chances and hope that one day his heart would stop beating.
Adam climbed through a basement window to gain entry into the house that held his fondest childhood memories. He was hungry and thirsty. There was something about smack that always made his throat dry.
Adam crept up the basement stairs to the hall. He went to the second floor and stashed the stolen purse that belonged to Roxanne in his old bedroom. Tony didn’t want any stolen merchandise in his van.
Adam ventured into his mother’s bedroom. Just as he expected his mother was in bed asleep. He hovered over her sleeping body. She looked so peaceful. She had abandoned him. She didn’t even care if he was alive. So what, he thought. He didn’t care either.
He left her bedroom and went down to the kitchen. He needed to feed his famished stomach. The growl was getting louder.
The house was dead silent. A silence he sometimes missed when he was partying with strangers. The moon shone in from the kitchen window.
He grabbed and chair and sat in it. He pulled it up close to open the refrigerator door. The kitchen was very spacious and looked as if it had been recently remodeled. The room was dark and sterile. The only unnatural light illuminated from the bulb inside the refrigerator.
Jane had enough money to remodel the kitchen on a whim but not enough money to give her sick drug addicted son. Adam had to hold in a laugh thinking about it. Then he remembered, in a fit of rage he took a baseball bat and smashed all the cabinets and every appliance the last time he was there.
While in the chair, Adam reached inside the refrigerator and grabbed a half-gallon carton of orange juice from the top shelf. He opened the carton and drank from it. His gulps were loud enough to wake the dead. He was thirstier than he realized.
His blood red eyes searched the refrigerator but only could find organic food. He really craved potato chips. He tried to focus his eyes on something other than the healthy crap inside the refrigerator. He felt himself getting extremely hot. He was so distracted he didn’t notice his mother creeping up behind him.
Jane Hardwick was a beautiful older blonde woman. She was sophisticated and refined. She had an uppity presence that screamed class, proper upbringing and old money. She was fifty-four but her plastic surgeon made sure she didn’t look a day over thirty-five.
She slowly approached. She suspected but wasn’t sure that it was her son who had broken into her house. She was dressed in a long silk nightgown with a matching robe and slippers. She had a semi automatic pistol in her right hand. When she was finally able to clearly see the person, she let out a sigh of relief. Jane leisurely slipped the gun inside her robe pocket.
“Adam.” She called out, startling him.
He dropped the carton of orange juice onto the floor spilling it. Adam jumped in his chair and turned toward his mother’s voice.
“Mother.” He tried to catch his breath and gain his composure.
“What are you doing?” She yelped.
“Making a mess.” Adam tried to make light of the situation.
“Why did you break into my home?”
“I was hungry. I was just going to get cleaned up and leave.”
“Were you going to leave without stealing from me this time?”
Adam wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement. It was definitely a question.
“No.” He wasn’t quite sure that was the answer she was looking for so he said it again. “No.”
Jane’s eyes peered over to her open purse. It was lying on the center island counter in front of the refrigerator. Adam followed her eyes to the purse. Then he looked back at her. Two seconds in and he already had been caught in a lie.
“Mother I just needed a few dollars for food.”
She heard that one before. She moved closer to her son. He appeared to be disheveled and dirty. Why? She wondered, but knew she shouldn’t act like she cared about his appearance or well-being.
“I refuse to give you money anymore. You know that. I’m done.”
“I was going to pay you back.” He lied without hesitation.
Every time she looked her son in his eyes her heart broke. He had eyes like his father. This time was no different. Her heart was breaking.
Adam had a difficult time looking his mother in her eyes as well. He seemed to blink repeatedly. He sniffled as if he had a head cold. Jane knew it wasn’t a cold. It was his addiction.
Adam looked down at the pool of orange juice that settled around his feet. Jane switched on the light in the kitchen. She needed to see what he had become. Adam abruptly stood.
She could see him clearly now. She wished she had never turned on the lights.
“How can you bear to show your face at this house loaded on whatever drugs you’re on?” She asked the question hoping this time honest words would spring from his chapped and blistered lips.
Adam looked down at the spilled orange juice before attempting to answer. “I’m clean.” The same lie he told her so many times before tonight.
“Who are you? You’re not the son I raised. Adam, you are so much better than this. You are not welcome in this house and you know it.”
“Yeah yeah I know but I’m trying to get something together. I’m trying to get myself together but I just need a little help.”
“Lies, lies and more lies. I’m exhausted with your lies.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“No I don’t. Your father would turn over in his grave if he could see what you’ve become.”
“And what is that Mother? What am I?” Adam growled.
“I don’t know what you are.” Jane’s voice began to quiver. “But I know you’re not my son.”
Something inside Adam needed to cry. The tears were there underneath the haze and the lasting effects of the heroin. Adam knew the truth. They would never fully reach the surface. Rage always covered his true emotions.
“Mother, can I have some goddamn money?” Jane’s eyes grew wide at Adam’s insolence. She couldn’t believe after all that had just happened Adam was still focused on getting money. He was like some impenetrable force. Her words didn’t hurt or shock him. He only wanted money for drugs.
The sudden urge to give up on him and throw in the towel hit her in the chest. She wondered what she had done wrong. Did she give him too much growing up, too many material things? Did she shelter him from pain? Did she give him a false sense of the world? Did she overlook the telltale signs? What were the signs your kid would one day become a drug addict? Why hadn’t therapy and rehab worked? Why wasn’t her love enough after her husband died? Maybe Adam just didn’t love her as much as he loved his father.
Would things be this bad forever? There were so many questions and absolutely no concrete answers.
Jane took a step forward and grabbed her purse off the counter. She checked her wallet for her credit cards and cash. Every thing seemed to be there. She got to her purse before he could get her cash.
Adam hadn’t gotten a chance to get what he came for. Jane was relieved but Adam was cursing himself for it. Jane clutched her purse close to her chest.
“Clean up the mess you made and get the hell out of my house before I call the police.”
Adam knew the police would get there quickly. They didn’t have anything else to do in this neighborhood. He didn’t want any trouble. He would rather die than be in jail. The drug withdrawal you felt in a jail cell was worse than death. It was like your blood was boiling under a hot flame.
Adam noticed how his mother’s hand fidgeted in the pocket of her robe. She had the gun, his father’s old 9mm handgun. Adam really needed that gun. He could fetch a good price on the street for that pistol. He could never figure out where his mother kept it or rather hid it.
Adam realized Tony was going to be pissed if he came back empty handed. Adam grabbed a roll of paper towels off the kitchen island. He stooped to clean the orange juice off the new floor tiles.
Jane carefully scrutinized him the entire time. When Adam was finished he throw the wet paper towels in the trashcan.
“Mother.” Adam took a breath. “Can I have just twenty dollars?”
“If I give you twenty will you stay away? I don’t want to see you like this.”
“Yes, yes mother I swear to God.” Adam shook his head. “The next time you see me I will be clean. I don’t want to be a junkie.”
“Adam, promise me.”
“I promise, whatever.” Adam believed his own words. He wasn’t coming back to this house. This house held too many bad memories and worse, too many good memories.
He would probably break and enter into some of the other homes in this neighborhood. But this house would be off limits. Everyone in this part of town was well off. They all thought they were safe and sound in a decent upstanding community. What a joke Adam thought. He would just steal a few things here and there, a few things to feed his habit.
Jane reached into her purse and took sixty dollars from her wallet. It was the only cash she had. She tossed the bills on the counter.
“Go, don’t come back.”
Adam’s eyes lit up at the sight of money. Money was the answer to his prayers. “Thanks mother. I love you.” Adam quickly snatched the money. He was afraid she would try to take it back and then he would be forced to fight her for it.
Adam shoved the three bills into his pocket. He jogged to the back door. He was gone in seconds leaving the door slightly open.