by Cathi Bond
“Fuck, yeah,” he said, eyes closing. When they opened, they settled on me. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing the empty syringe.
“She’s with me,” Vic replied, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
Hermann stood up, walked over to Charlene and started chewing on her ear lobe. Cope didn’t look very happy about it, but Charlene did. I wouldn’t like it. I wouldn’t like sharing my girlfriend one bit.
“There are a lot of dealers in the joint because they trusted chicks,” Hermann said, giving me a nasty look. He started licking Charlene’s neck like she was a popsicle.
“Do you want to fix?” he asked. It wasn’t a question, it was a test.
“Sure,” I replied, figuring a fix was a hit.
“Fill the bowl.”
I sat in a straight-back chair, carefully setting a couple of rocks in the spoon. I smiled at Hermann, hoping to make friends, but he didn’t smile back.
“More,” Hermann commanded as his hand travelled up Charlene’s skirt.
There was already more speed than Hermann had taken.
“You got a problem?” Hermann asked.
“No,” I replied.
I reached out, dropping two more rocks in. Hermann pulled Charlene down onto the sofa. Cope looked out the window as Vic nervously glanced down at the spoon.
“That’s a lot.”
The knife hit the bullseye. Thump.
“I want to make sure she’s no narc,” Hermann snarled.
“It’s fine,” I said, my palms sweating as Hermann mixed the liquid.
Vic wrapped the belt around my bicep and Hermann filled the syringe. I wondered if it wasn’t too much, but instead I focused on the needle tearing through the skin. Hermann flagged and the moment my blood appeared Vic let go of the belt. But Hermann didn’t take it nice and slow to see how I’d feel, which I’d read is what you should always do with any kind of drug. Instead, he injected the whole mixture into my bloodstream, pulled the needle out and threw it on the table.
The rush rumbled through me like an earthquake. It started in my toes and blasted up through my body, pounding out of the top of my shoulders, a detonating chemical cannon that threw me off the chair flat on my back on the floor. The smell of fresh green apples forced all the oxygen out of my chest. At first my heart was beating so fast I couldn’t hear it, but then it came back, getting slower and skipping and stopping and starting and skipping. I sucked little shallow gasps, but no air came in so I gave up. The room was covered in a dewy white glow and everything was white like heaven. I wondered if I was dying. If I was, I’d be happy. I’d be with Mom.
Settling into the perfect silence, I floated up and away until suddenly a giant squall of air pushed me down, kicking me out of heaven, crash-landing me back on the floor in the garage. Vic’s mouth was pasted on mine, giving me mouth to mouth. Charlene and Cope’s faces were ashen. Hermann laughed, saying it was the closest O.D. he’d ever seen. I just smiled and asked for more.
“Maddy,” Vic said, tapping me lightly on the cheek.
The bald guy with the knife was gone, and Cope and Vic had weighed their buys and were ready to leave. Hermann was expecting other runners. Charlene got up from Hermann’s side and walked over to Cope.
Vic rested his hand on mine. “Do you want to come with us?”
He might have been a lot older, but Vic was sweet and he’d take care of me. I could make myself kiss him and stuff, but there was no way I was putting out like Charlene. If things got out of hand I could always just leave. Besides, there was nothing to worry about as long as Vic was stoned, and from all the speed in his briefcase, we were going to be stoned for a long, long time.
The Mercury crawled by a long row of art deco motels clustered at the edge of the lake. Each one was painted white with boldly coloured metal trim. Blue, pink, orange and green vacancy signs flickered from the roofs. The strip was once a prime tourist attraction, but times had changed and so had the clientele. Vic pulled in under a red neon seahorse that wore a matching neon saddle. The Seahorse manager didn’t care how many of us slept in the room. He just took the money and tossed Vic the key.
Our room was on the second floor, with two double beds covered in orange blankets and drapes that didn’t close. The TV hardly got any stations, but that didn’t matter. We just shot up again and again, staying up all night endlessly talking, solving the mysteries of life; and then, holding hands, we walked along the stony lakeshore, watching the waves roll over each other as the final star went out and the rim of the horizon revealed a beautiful band of pure pink.
When it was time to sleep I took off my clothes and lay down in Vic’s arms, curling up on his chest. He fell asleep instantly, the soft skin of his penis brushing against my thigh. I didn’t want his penis anywhere near me, but I was afraid to move away for fear I’d wake him. That was something I hadn’t considered. Maybe Vic would wake up and have ideas like Kenneth. What if I was the first one up and out of bed? My mind worried and planned while I listened to Charlene and Cope’s sex sounds. They sounded like animals, pulling and pushing, groaning and begging. The sheets shifted and the bed jumped.
Vic tightened his grip and snorted. I tried to pretend he was Ginnie, but that didn’t work and besides, we never slept like that. As soon as we finished rocking back and forth Ginnie always rolled away, pulling the sheets up under her chin and went to sleep. That was because our love was sick. I caught myself on the word love. What Ginnie and I had shared wasn’t love, it was an affliction. Slowly I reached my hand out, settling my palm on Vic’s chest. It was furry like Dad’s.
Vic dropped me off in front of The Steps and I told him I’d meet him at the Zanzibar. I hadn’t seen Lily and Gabe in over a month and needed to check in. I leaned over the back seat to grab Vic’s tweed coat when he grabbed my boob and squeezed it.
“Hey!” I said, pushing him away. “That hurt.”
“You just need more practice. Give us a kiss.”
Cope told me Hermann had been teasing Vic, saying he was a neuter with a frigid old lady who was ripping him off. He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, yanking my head back. “Open your mouth.”
“People can see.”
“You’re my old lady. Open your mouth.”
I tried not to gag and pretended that I liked it until he let me go.
Lily was panhandling while Gabe sat on the stoop watching a couple of guys install a billboard on top of a building. The sign read “The Green Door” and offered topless body rubs. A tubby, partially naked guy stretched out on a cot while a pretty girl in a bikini rubbed his body. How disgusting. At least I was getting free speed, and all I had to do was kiss Vic and make pretend moan sounds when he grabbed my tits. Although lately things had started to get tense, and I was worried Vic was looking for a whole lot more.
I sat down beside Gabe. He was losing weight and had a black eye.
“What did you do to your face?”
“Fightin. And I woulda won if the cops didn’t break it up. Looky looky, Lily. Our Cookie’s come home.”
I hugged him hard as Lily walked over. Gabe’s teeth chattered.
“Where you been?” Lily asked.
“Here and there.”
She sat on my other side and gave me a quick squeeze. “You’re too skinny.”
“Got too much to do. No time to eat.”
Lily pushed up the sleeves of Vic’s coat. “Your arms look like sticks.”
They were white and kind of skinny, but that was because we rarely went out in the day. And besides, I felt great. I didn’t need to eat or sleep. My mind burned energy like the sun. When Lily saw the track marks she slapped me on the side of the head.
“What the hell is this?”
“I’m into something way better now. Way more lucrative.”
“Like what?”
“Speed.”
“Asshole.”
Lily thought speeders were scum, but she was wrong. We were doper royalty. It reminded me of doing house cal
ls with Dad. Every night Vic, Cope, Charlene and I drove all over the city delivering bags of whiz to street dealers. When we knocked on the door, speeders fell over themselves ushering us in. They offered us drinks and cigarettes. One of the speeders even called Vic “Sir.” Gabe shivered. I reached out and rubbed his hands.
“So where are you staying?” I asked.
“Hotels,” Lily replied.
I didn’t believe her. They were sleeping outside. It was January and they didn’t even have winter jackets. I wrapped Vic’s scarf around Gabe’s neck and pulled ten dollars out of my pocket.
“For a bottle?” Gabe asked, making a grab, but Lily snatched the money first. Gabe wasn’t as quick as he used to be.
“For coats. You can get them at the Goodwill.”
Lily’s pride didn’t like it, but I made her take it. “If you’re going to stay out here, you’ve got to stay warm.”
“Okay,” Lily said. “But I’ll pay you back. I mean it. I’ll pay you back.”
That was the last time I saw them that winter.
The pockets in the pants were deep –1940s pleated dress pants, the kind that Granddad wore –and I liked the feel of the starchy white cotton shirt. Men’s clothes belonged on my body, plus they helped hide my curves.
My fingers shook trying to force the buttons through the little holes. It had been nearly a day since our last hit and Vic was out trying to score. There’d been some big busts lately and supply was scarce. At least we had an apartment.
“Why do you dress like a guy?” Charlene asked, pulling on a skimpy blue dress that barely covered her bum.
Charlene and I had gone shopping for spring clothes at the Salvation Army and were playing dress up to pass the time.
“Maddy likes girls,” Cope replied. He was stretched out on a nubby brown sofa, leafing through a Playboy with his hand down his pants.
“No I don’t,” I said. What I wanted to ask was, “How do you know?”
The coffee table was covered in Cope’s collection of girlie magazines. Every month he bought Hustler and Playboy and we compared centrefolds. Charlene took off the dress, dropped it onto the floor and reached for a skirt. Charlene had the most amazing tits. Her nipples were bright pink but she had no areolas. I loved it when the nipples got hard. Cope turned the magazine sideways and looked at the picture.
“Girls are hot. Especially girls who go both ways, right Charlie?”
“I like guys,” Charlene replied, pulling up her skirt and turning to me, “Will you zip me up?”
I tugged the zipper into place while Cope watched. Charlene might have been a slut, but she was a sexy slut and I loved watching her parade around naked.
“Let her rub your tits,” Cope said.
I backed away.
“Don’t be scared,” he said. “Rub her tits. You want to don’t you?” I looked at Charlene.
“Go ahead,” Charlene said.
“No,” I said, but I didn’t back up anymore.
“It’s okay with me,” Cope said.
I worried he was masturbating, but didn’t look. Charlene walked closer.
“Give me your hands,” she said.
I raised them in the air and Charlene took them, placing them around her boobs. The skin was so soft to the touch and when I rubbed the nipples they sprang up.
“That’s enough!” Charlene said.
I pulled my hands back. “Was that too hard?”
“That was too good,” Cope laughed.
Charlene pulled a tight tee-shirt over her head and tucked it into the top of the skirt, but that didn’t settle down those nipples of hers. They poked through the fabric like they were waving hello. My fingers remembered how they reacted and they wanted to say hi right back, but then the door opened and Vic came in, tossing his maroon briefcase on the sofa.
Cope clicked open the brass hasps, took out a small baggie of speed and went over to the kitchen table. Charlene ran for the water, fits and spoons, and I was about to join them when Vic grabbed me by the arm, staring at my pants.
“Make me a drink.”
While I poured him a rye and water, Charlene and Cope were already dropping speed into the spoon and starting to fix.
“Aren’t we going to do a hit?” I asked, worried that Cope and Charlene would take it all. There wasn’t much speed in that bag.
Vic chugged the rye in one gulp, slamming the glass onto the coffee table. “I want to fuck.”
He shot a hateful look at my men’s shirt and then reached out, ripping it open so hard the buttons popped, flying across the room like hail. Hermann must have been teasing Vic about me again.
“Sure,” I said, kissing his neck. “But let’s fix first.”
“Now!” He swept me up in his arms and carried me across the room, kicking open the bedroom door with his boot.
Cope dropped his fit and gasped “good shit,” as the smell of green apples blew through the room.
Vic caught the scent and froze in the doorway, staring down at me. “Just one and then we fuck.”
I kissed his cheek and said, “Yeah, baby.”
Cope was right. It was probably the best speed I’d ever had. Charlene and Cope vanished into the bedroom and Vic had opened a bottle of rye and started taking the TV apart. Speeders always get busy with electronics because the drug makes you super smart, like space monkeys in laboratories. There was only one problem. When you came down, you’d forgotten how to put things back together again.
While Vic tinkered, I stood in front of the open window, hands deep in my pockets, watching the streetcars rattle up and down Broadview. Across the river, the skyscrapers glittered, the CN Tower standing between them like a skeleton sentinel. Newspapers said it was going to be the highest freestanding structure in the world. To me, it looked like a naked Eiffel Tower or the Tower of Babel, a story I heard in Sunday school.
Thousands of years ago God’s children decided to build a tower that stretched all the way up to heaven. They claimed they wanted to go and worship Him, but secretly they wanted to prove they were smart enough to get up there. Once the tower was built, the children started to climb and God, hidden behind His fluffy white clouds, glared down, getting madder and madder. How dare they? His children thinking they were clever enough to climb to heaven? He was of the air and they were of the earth. He was of everything and they were of nothing but clay.
Then God raised His fist and down it came through the clouds, smashing, lashing, bashing rocks and mortar, and the tower came crashing down. Most of the children died in that fall, but the ones who didn’t were determined to rebuild. But when they started, something strange occurred. The children used to speak the same language, but now they all spoke in foreign tongues. They no longer understood each other, the communal knowledge was lost and God’s children could never build another tower to heaven again.
Yellow light fell on my face. Night had passed while I was high, dreaming about the Tower of Babel. Was it noon yet? Hot breath settled on my neck, making the hairs prickle. It was Vic. I hadn’t gotten up first and snuck out to get our morning coffee. Now Vic was down from his trip and standing behind the chair, hands clamped hard on my shoulders.
“Why are you always looking at Charlene?”
Traffic travelled up and down Broadview.
“Hermann says you’re queer.”
“What do you think?” I asked, thinking of Charlene’s naked body.
“I think you need to be taught.”
I stood up and turned to face him. The sofa bed was pulled out. Something else I’d missed while I was out of it.
He pushed me towards the bed. “Come on.”
“I’m too high.”
Vic shoved me down on my back and crawled on top. I was only wearing a tee-shirt and men’s trousers.
“You’re always too high.” I tried to roll away, but he had me pinned and started undoing my pants. “I’ve always been good to you.”
“Can’t we just cuddle instead?”
�
��Haven’t I always been good to you?”
Vic hadn’t shaved and his beard was scratchy. “This is how you say thank you,” he said, yanking down my pants. “This is how it works.”
“Get off me,” I said, starting to fight.
Vic just laughed at the kicks and punches, pushing his body down on mine, forcing my legs open with his thighs.
“This is how you pay.”
I clamped my legs together but he just wrenched them open.
“Please, Vic,” I whimpered, but that didn’t work either. He told me to be still and with one hand squeezing my tit, he started kissing me. His mouth was covering mine when I felt him tear into me. It felt like red. I screamed, it hurt so bad, but then he just shoved his hand over my mouth and told me to shut up –shut up and enjoy it. Back and forth, in and out he went. I could barely breathe, his hand was clamped so tightly over my mouth. How long did it take? This is what the other girls did for free drugs. I tried to think about Charlene naked and how it was business, but Mom appeared instead. The time I kissed her –kissed her right on the lips and then felt the bump. The innocent little bump. I pushed her face away.
Vic was going faster now, breathing really hard, when Mom returned again. Only she was larger and clearer this time, and she wouldn’t go away. All giant, like at the movies, standing on the top of the hill with no boots on, in her mauve dressing gown, watching Kenneth French me, screaming my name, pointing down at me, yelling at me to stop.
My hands flailed, punching Vic, slapping him as hard as I could, but he just kept drilling into me. Back and forth, back and forth, like my body was just a doll.
Mom kept screaming. The dressing gown flapped in the high wind, her chalky skin and no boots, no boots on in icy snow, and then something popped in my brain –a baby. This couldn’t happen, would not happen to me. Not Madeline Anne Barnes. My hand reached for the bottle of rye on the side table, grabbing it by the neck and brought it down as hard as I could, smashing into the back of Vic’s head, in the place Dad called the occipital lobe.
Vic was out scoring, Charlene was getting dressed and Cope sat at the kitchen table in his Jockeys. He still had a nice body for a speeder, tight and muscled. Cope had just finished washing his hair and I was trimming the ends. He was like a girl that way. Every day he washed his hair, conditioned it and blew it dry. Snip went the scissors as another lock of black hair fell.