Memoirs Aren't Fairytales (10 page)

We were pretty sick too. Our last shot had been about fifteen hours ago, and I'd barfed up the milkshake and fries I ate for dinner. This was the first time I'd been dope sick. I couldn't stop shaking, my muscles ached, and I had the sweats and chills.

I'd been telling her all day that waiting for Que was a waste of time because we didn't even have enough money for a dime bag. What we needed was to leave the park and stand by a store and panhandle, then go to Roxbury and buy some dope from a pusher on the street. She kept telling me to lay off, that Que would help us out once she got in touch with him, and he'd also let us stay at his house. I didn't know why she was so sure Que would hook us up, but I was too sick to keep arguing.

It was after midnight when Que finally answered and told us to come over. When we got there, he and his brother Raul were smoking a blunt and listening to music in the living room. Renee sat next to Que on the couch and they started whispering. Raul patted the cushion beside him, and I took a seat along with the blunt he passed me. The weed was settling my stomach, but later when it wore off, I was going to be sick again. Heroin was the only thing that would make me right. Renee really needed to hurry this shit up.

I handed her the blunt and she hit it hard, blowing out a cloud of smoke. Before she took her second hit, she told the guys about Eric. The brothers said something in Spanish I couldn't understand.

“You'll hook us up, won't you?” Renee asked and she whispered something else in Que's ear. I thought she nibbled on his lobe too.

“Real good, boo,” Que said.

They took us upstairs and Que cooked up four bags for Renee and me to split. I could taste the heroin before it was even in my body, and my mouth watered for its flavor. We sat on the floor and used our own rigs, tying off with our belts while the brothers watched from the bed. Once we were done, Que turned on his stereo, and Renee stood and moved to the center of the room. She started to dance, swinging her hips back and forth in a rhythm only a stripper would know. She teased, slowly lifting her shirt and unbuttoning her pants to flash different parts of her body until she was fully undressed. And when she touched herself, she moaned. I had never seen her naked before.

Que called her over, and she straddled his legs, humping his crotch. When they started kissing, Raul got off the bed and scooped me into his arms. I felt like a baby against his broad chest and thick neck. Besides Eric and that brief episode with Mark, I hadn't been this close to a man in a while. I studied the side of his face, the golden brown color of his skin, the stubble on his jaw line, and the teardrop tattoo under his eye. He had that masculine smell, musky deodorant and spicy cologne. Those scents used to make me horny, but since I'd been with heroin, nothing turned me on. Smack gave me a feeling no man ever could, a total fulfillment in all my senses. A man could give me an orgasm, but dope gave me a hundred at once.

He carried me into the room across the hall and laid me on the bed. The shades were closed and he didn't turn the light on. His hands took off my pants and shirt, and I was left with only my bra and underwear. I hadn't showered or brushed my teeth in two days. I hadn't shaved in weeks. And I didn't give a fuck.

But before heroin, I had cared. When I'd dated Cody in college, I always dressed in cute outfits and underneath, a sexy pair of panties and matching bra. I'd shower, shave, and lather my body with fruity scented lotion before I'd go to his apartment. I'd brush my teeth as soon as I got up in the morning so I wouldn't scare him off with my breath. Even when I'd kissed Casey, I had gum in my mouth to hide the cigarette smell.

Raul's lips grazed my body. His tongue ran down to my thighs and climbed back. His fingers rubbed my crotch, and I could feel him inhale my smell. And all I thought about was how good I felt.

The scent of the condom and his candy-flavored breath were oddly delicious. His mouth tasted tart like Starbursts. The shot was making me crave sugar again, and if I wasn't going to reach an orgasm, at least I got to taste his candy.

Raul didn't kick me out in the morning. He told me I could stay as long as I wanted, and when his friends came over, he left me alone in his room. He kept checking up on me, bringing me food and movies to watch, and refilling my syringe. I didn't know why he was being so nice. It wasn't like I was special or prettier than the other girls I'd seen hanging out here.

When we moved out of Abdul's hotel, we left behind most of our clothes, and we'd been wearing the same outfit for three days. Que gave us money to buy some new clothes so we went shopping. We each got a couple shirts and a pair of jeans and then we stopped at a bakery for chocolate cupcakes.

On our way home, we passed a library. There was a sign by the door that said: Computer classes, 2-4 p.m. daily, free to the public.

My cell phone showed it was only noon.

I pointed at the library. “I need to go in there for a sec.”

“For what?” Renee asked. “You gonna check out a book?”

“I want to use their computer.”

She said she'd wait for me outside, but I had to be quick. Her stomach was upset and she needed to shoot up again. We'd shot up just a few hours ago. It seemed like her stomach was upset more than not.

I found the computers along the far wall of the library and got online. I typed in Eric's full name, but only football articles came up from when he played in high school. There wasn't an obituary or any articles about his death. I guess his parents couldn't have an obituary printed or plan the funeral until the autopsy was completed and his body was shipped up to Bangor.

I walked through the middle of the library this time, but stopped when I saw all the kids. Groups of three were sitting on the floor and one kid from each group was reading out loud. Their teacher was sitting at a table close by, watching each group and taking notes.

“Switch,” the teacher said. The kids, who were reading out loud, passed their book to a different kid in their group. They were young, kindergarten or first grade, and reading from lesson books.

A little boy, in the group closest to me, got stuck on a word and raised his hand. I started to walk over to the boy, but the teacher stood and went to his side, so I didn't. She helped him sound out the word and then the boy asked what it meant.

“Class, can any of you tell me what the word
believe
means?”

A bunch of kids raised their hands, and the teacher called on a little girl.

“Believe means to know something is true,” the little girl said.

“Very good, Mona,” the teacher said. “I'll give you a star if you can put believe in a sentence.”

“I believe my cat has fleas,” Mona said. She scratched her arm and all the kids laughed.

“Nicole,” Renee yelled. She was standing on the opposite side of the reading group, close to the front door.

The kids and their teacher turned towards Renee and then to me.

“What the hell is taking you so long?” Renee said, too loud. “I told you I wasn't feeling good.”

The teacher's lips were pointed in a frown. “Never mind them, class,” she said.

Some of the kids looked away and the rest kept their eyes on me. The ones who stayed had scared expressions.

They thought I was scary?

But in my head, I was wearing the long patchwork dress, standing in the front of the group, holding a notebook full of assignments, and they were calling me “Miss Brown.” I had taken them on a field trip to the library, helping them with vocabulary and overseeing their reading lesson.

“Let's go. Now,” Renee shouted.

But I wasn't their teacher. I'd been wearing the same clothes for three days, my hair was greasy, and track marks covered my bare arms.

I believed heroin was pumping through my veins. I believed Renee was sick because she needed another shot. I believed I'd be sick too if I didn't do one soon.

“I'm coming,” I said and followed Renee through the door.

Renee said we should ride out Que and Raul's offer to stay at their house for as long as we could. She didn't want to go back to sleeping in the park. She said she needed to be close to a bathroom since she was still getting sick a lot. I thought I could give Raul what he wanted for a while. He was keeping me well fed.

What he wanted was sex—all the time. It was like he couldn't get enough of me and, in return, I couldn't slam enough of his dope. Right before he was about to come, he'd whisper strange shit in my ear like how he wanted me to be his boo and how I was all he could think about. He said he'd wanted me since the first time we met, but whenever I came to his house, I was always with Eric. Raul said I looked happy with Eric, so he never pursued me. I didn't correct him either. I was happy when I was with Eric, but that was in the past.

Being someone's girlfriend sounded like a lot of work, and besides, dope made me lazy and emptied all my emotions. But at the same time, I liked being with Raul. He was tender when I needed him to be and gentle when my crotch was sore. He listened when I bitched about my parents, which was every few hours because that's how much they were calling. Michael was calling too.

News of Eric's death had finally gotten out in Bangor, and my parents were crazy over it. They were acting like the cops with all their questions. I told them Eric and I had drifted apart. He'd been hanging around his co-workers who were a bad crowd, and they'd gotten him into drugs. I never said the word heroin when I was on the phone with them. It was sacred like when people said gosh instead of God.

By the end of each phone call, I had them believing my lies. But within a few hours, they'd call back with more questions. They wanted to know why we were staying in a hotel at the time of Eric's death, and I said our apartment was being treated for bugs. They'd bring up the rape and how much I had changed since it happened. They tried to use my weight loss and acne, and my weird behavior at brunch, as signs I was on drugs. I repeated the same excuses: I was running every day and working too much, and was still getting over the flu when they'd last seen me. I told them I'd never even smoked pot, let alone stick a needle in my arm. They didn't call me a liar, but I could hear concern in their voices.

To get them off the phone, I'd tell them I was at work. Raul would have a shot waiting for me, and before I hung up it was already in my arm.

Tim called a week later. He said Eric's funeral was in two days. I asked if I could crash on his couch and if he'd pick me up from the bus station, and he said yes to both. When we got off the phone, I went into Que's room to tell Renee.

“Can I go?” she asked. “I need a break from this place.”

I didn't know if she was talking about Que's house or Boston. And why did she need a break? She hadn't gone back to work, and she was getting all the smack and food she wanted for free. I thought we had a pretty good thing going on, and I wasn't sure if I even wanted to leave.

“Can you cover your bus ticket?” I asked.

“I'll get the money.”

“What about dope? We'll be gone for a couple days.”

“I'll take care of it… for both of us.”

I went back into Raul's room where he was waiting for me naked in bed.

“I'm taking a trip,” I said and climbed in next to him.

His lips moved over my chest and down my stomach, and then his head disappeared under the blanket.

“Mmm… Where we going?” he asked.

My needle was lying on the nightstand, full and ready to be shot. I reached for it, but I was too late. Raul's head surfaced and he moved on top of me.

“I have to go home for a few days.”

He moved in and out of me. But there was something different about it. His dick was warm and there wasn't any chaffing.

“You're not going anywhere,” he said and devoured my mouth with his.

It was the condom. He wasn't wearing one. And I wasn't on the pill.

Fuck.

Fuck it. It was too late, he was already inside me. And since I'd been slamming so much dope, a baby wouldn't have a chance of surviving in my body.

“Can you lean up a little?” I asked.

I slapped my arm and fisted air since I couldn't get off the bed to grab my belt. He didn't stop, but he gave me enough room so I could stick my vein.

“You're mine,” he said.

My eyes closed, but I could still feel him and hear his breath coming out in moans.

Was I his? As long as he kept feeding me, I guess I was.

CHAPTER NINE

Renee came through as promised. She got the money for the bus ticket and enough dope to keep us high while we were in Maine. Raul gave us a ride to North Station and bought me a one-way ticket. Before we boarded, he lifted me up in his arms and kissed me goodbye. He told me he'd miss me and would purchase my return ticket as soon as I was ready to come home. If he bought me a round trip ticket, I'd return to Boston, but that didn't mean I'd return to his house. That was his way of controlling when I came back to him.

I wasn't sure if I'd miss him the way he was going to miss me. He didn't give me that tingly feeling in my stomach. Raul did have free reign of my body, but he didn't have my heart. His drugs did.

It had been two years since I'd left Bangor, and when the bus pulled onto Main Street, so many memories hit me at once. We drove by the Bangor Auditorium where my high school graduation was held, and the Bounty, where we went clubbing because it was the only place in town that didn't card at the door. We passed the
Bangor Daily News
, where my dad worked. He used to bring me there as a kid to do his filing and photocopying.

We got off the bus with our backpacks and climbed straight into Tim's car. He drove through town and everything looked exactly the same. The ground had a light dusting of snow, and the sky was overcast, which gave the buildings and houses a grayish tint.

My favorite store, The Grasshopper Shop, and our Friday night hangout place, the Wig & Courier, were both still there. There was a line out the door at The Coffee Pot, which made the best sandwiches in town, and I saw Jeffrey, my old hairdresser through the window of The Cut Hut.