Crank (17 page)

* *

Catching a ride with Robyn or one of my Avenue buds, coaxing myself

mostly awake with a whiff of white.

* *

Twenty minutes on the Avenue before the bell rang, tempering

my morning buzz with nicotine.

* *

Stumbling into homeroom, most likely tardy, hoping Mrs. Twedt wouldn't notice and reward me with detention.

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Making some classes, cutting others, deciding which would be which by which was which the day before.

* *

And somehow I managed to convince

myself life with the monster was not routine.

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P

roblem Number Two: Relationships

Old friendships, tucked away like treasures, relegated to tokens of yesterday.

* *

New friendships, faulty ground to cultivate and build a future upon.

* *

Old boyfriends, a very short list, abbreviated

further by definition and distance.

* *

New boyfriends, one definite but distracted, and no shortage of Avenue wannabes.

* *

Siblings, one too close and curious, the other much

too far away to serve as confidant.

* *

Parents, ever-present shade, dimming

my sparkle, kryptonite to quell my bid for superpower.

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Teachers, counselors, preachers, scaffolding, crumbled by the weight of my monster.

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P

roblem Number Three: Connections

How to get high and stay that way?

(Coming down was a bitch and a half.)

* *

Finding crank

wasn't really difficult.

Most of my new crowd knew

* *

someone who dealt

(or knew someone who knew someone who did).

* *

Getting what you paid for proved more problematic, unless you went straight to the source.

* *

Even then, things were iffy.

(Stoners aren't the most reliable people.

Even they would have to agree.)

* *

Fronting years of hoarded

allowances and birthday gifts

sometimes resulted

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in disappointing returns.

And my bank account was dwindling fast.

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Problem Number Four:

Feeling Good

The biggest problem of all.

* *

You know how riding real fast in a car or a spectacular takeoff in a jet

gives you an awesome rush of adrenaline?

* *

You know how spotting an eagle

cruising low over the treetops, it watching a baby finally master the try-try-again of walking makes you glow all over?

* *

You know how singing a beautiful song with dead-on pitch, or getting every test answer right, including the extra credit

brainteaser, makes you feel like you could take on the world?

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You know how waking up to perfect skies, enough sunshine to warm you, not

enough to bake you, watching a silent fall of quarter-sized

snowflakes

gives you delicious shivers of pleasure?

* *

Somewhere on my stroll with the monster,

* *

I'd lost these things.

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F

eeling Good

became a matter of scale.

One to ten,

* *

"ten" being one step shy of shredding the time-space continuum,

* *

"one" being ten steps shy of dropping flat in my tracks.

* *

Every increment

required meth or more meth.

* *

I didn't have to go all the way up, but up,

I did need to go.

* *

After a while, even high,

I could almost

make believe food

didn't taste like cardboard,

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almost float down into REM sleep,

* *

almost function the next day,

* *

almost look forward to my

almost 17th birthday.

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I

Would Celebrate Several Ways

One with my family. My mid-October

birthday always meant a

* *

trip to San Francisco to play tourist on Fisherman's Wharf, scarf

* *

too

much seafood, shop Ghiradelli Square, and visit my grandma--to see just how

* *

far she had slipped away toward the underworld of dementia.

* *

We

went down the weekend before and it was just as I imagined. I knew things

* *

had

taken a turn for the worse when Grandma

stood up in church and yelled, "I have

* * to go to the bathroom!" Flying relatively high on the monster, I laughed like a lunatic all the way

* *

home.

Which made Mom mad and made me wonder:

Does insanity swim in our gene pool?

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In

One of Her Better Moments

Grandma drew me aside, put one finger to creviced

lips and whispered,

* *

Kristina, dear, I've got something

here I want you to have.

* *

One tentative hand stretched toward mine. Grandma's eyes

sparkled, glass under rain.

* *

My grandmother gave this to me

on my own 17

th birthday.

* *

It was a beautiful gold locket--24

karat, with an inlay of diamonds.

But the real treasure was inside.

* *

That's my wedding picture, there.

And my grandmother's, there.

* *

Both women wore ivory lace, simplicity made lovely with a spray of yellow roses--and my locket.

* *

I

ask only one thing. Please pass

it on to your own granddaughter?

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"Of course, Grandma. Thank you!"

It felt like wealth around my neck-- a wealth of love.

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C

elebration Two

My birthday fell on Friday night.

After dinner Mom broke out the cake and presents--cool velour jeans from

Leigh, matching sweater from Jake, diamond studs from Mom and Scott.

Hope you like them.

* *

"

I love them. Thanks, Mom."

What wasn't to like? I went to look in the mirror. The stones magnified the pale bathroom light, like my growing

guilt. Mom came in behind me.

I wanted you to have

something special.

* *

I watched her in the mirror.

She reached out, as if to touch me, withdrew instead. Maybe if she had

followed through, everything that

came after wouldn't have.

I

feel like I've lost

you, Kristina. I guess

it had to happen

sometime. It's as much

my fault as yours.

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It was a stunning confession.

And probably not completely accurate.

Yes, she had distanced herself through work and stretching her affection. But the monster was a mightier intruder.

Please be careful.

I'm worried that

you've made some

bad choices. Don't

let them go from

bad to worse.

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H

alf

of Me

wanted to whine.

Wanted to rage.

Wanted to get right up into her face and shout,

* *

"What about

your

bad choices, Mom?

Have you ever once stopped to consider

how they not only created me, but helped mold me into the not-so-fine, not-so-upstanding, old-beyond-her-years, not-exactly-a-lady

standing in front of you?"

* *

The other half

* *

told me to shut up, told me to smile, told me to find a hint of contrition and agree,

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"You're right, Mom, some of my choices

haven't been the best lately.

I promise to try harder to do the right

things, and make you proud of me."

* *

Considering I had made plans with Chase for celebration number three, plans that might very well test

just how bad my choices had become, guess which half won.

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L

et's Just Say I Got to Go

Chase picked me up for my Big Day.

He actually knocked, went

mano a

m

ano with Mom and Scott.

Evening. So nice to finally meet

you. Kristina has told me so

many good things about you.

* *

Oh, that boy was a player! Scott

shook his hand, invited him inside and Mom thawed her frozen glare.

Don't worry about a thing. The

concert may run late, but we'll be

back before we turn into pumpkins!

* *

We didn't have a concert in mind, of course. Chase's mom was out of town.

He had a special party planned.

I

got the E. It's critical--

pure MDMA,

the rea

l deal. But you don't have to try

it if you don't want to.

* *

Speed, with a hint of psychedelia?

Going primeval, no fear, no pain?

"I want to do everything with you."

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Cool. 'Cause I want you to go

all the way to heaven.

And I want to take you there.

* *

We got to his house hours before the others would arrive. (Parents gone?

Stoner grapevine buzzes overtime.)

Let's drop the

E right now.

I want you to peak while it's

just you and me.

* *

I had no idea what to expect.

It took an hour to come on and discover a new universe.

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E

cstasy Is Hard to Describe

It's like falling

softly into a pool of crystal

mountain

water

* *

floating on your

back

circular

beneath

vibrant

sky

* *

deciphering

codes in the clouds

spinning

dizzy

fast.

* *

It isn't at all like going

clear

out of your

head

lunatic

mad

* *

throwing

yourself in front of a runaway

train

insane

* *

hallucinating

black

widows and black

helicopters behind you

crazy.

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It's a lot more like jumping

into

your own

brain, ferreting

what's

inside

* *

accepting

past

failures

freeing

self

destructive

demons

* *

forgiving

yourself and those

you love and even

those you

despise.

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C

hase Was Right There

riveted to my side as I laughed, as I cried.

* *

Finally, he kissed me, and it was just as fine as any kiss

could ever be.

Tender.

Blossoming.

Passionate.

Intense.

* *

Only on E, it was more.

It was like opening

myself up as wide as

I could go, inviting him inside.

* *

He crawled right in, filled me with love so close to perfect,

I asked him to pick me up, carry me off into his bed.

He did.

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Chase Wagner, the most beautiful man in the whole wide world

(despite what the rest of the world

could see),

* *

showed me exactly how

making love should be.

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I

Was Aglow

at the first knock.

Soon the house filled with friends, with acquaintances, with complete strangers.

I wanted to get to know

each and every one.

I wanted them all to know

everything about me:

my intellect, my beauty, my righteousness.

Maybe you have to have been there (or to a rave) to relate.

I had accessed my innermost

recesses. I needed to explore, to expand, to excavate.

The most incredible place I'd

ever been was right inside of me.

If I left, I might never find it again, and so I refused

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to sink down, to close the door, to rebuild the wall.

When someone offered a second dose of birthday E, I said, "Absolutely."

And when someone broke

out the crank, I was ready to snort up, to smoke up, to shoot up.

I should have been scared to death.

But ecstasy dissolves all fear.

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