I was sitting in my motorhome trying to melt some glass, which was brutally hard in the heat. The trailer park was filled with either students of the school or trailer park people that were trying to survive in the heat of Arizona. I should have just kept my head down and kept melting glass and I might have gotten out of there ok. But I was always looking for that fast buck. That quick scheme to make fast cash. Sometimes you don’t have to look very far. Sometimes it finds you.
I called my friend Carl in Washington just say what’s up. Carl always had something going on.
“What up?’
“Same shit. How you like Arizona?”
“Hot. Hot like Hadies. I got a few things figured out. Just waiting for school to start, get my new place and I’m putting things in motion.”
“You got some time to kill?”
“Almost two weeks.”
“Wanna make some fast cash?” Those are some words I was waiting to hear.
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
“There’s always a catch.” I was skeptical to say the least.
“No catch. Just fly out here and rent a car and drive around for a few days. I’ll give you a percentage. I got thirty P’s here. Beautiful shit. Come on. You could use the dough.”
“How much?”
“Hundred per. We move all thirty and you get three grand. I got them gone. You just gotta accompany me around town making deliveries.”
“How long you think this will take? I don’t know if I can be gone for a week.”
“Three days, four the most. Come on. You can do it. I’ll pay for the ticket now. Waddya say?”
It’s strange how you know some things are a bad decision but you still make that decision, thinking you can out smart the forces of nature and make it come out your way. You can’t.
“All right. Buy the ticket. But either way I gotta be back in three days.”
“You got it.”
The next day I stashed my bike at the school and told them I had to go see my mom in Florida for a few days. I didn’t think it was a good idea to leave my bike in the trailer park, even if I locked it up. I got on a plane that night and was in Los Angeles by ten P.M. I knew something wasn’t right. There was an ominous feeling in my bones. Looking back that was because I was once again deterring from my plan. You always have to stick to the plan.
Carl picked me up and we went to the hotel. He was a party animal, rocking twenty to forty pounds every couple of weeks. Snowboarding, girls, parties, Carl was definitely living the rock star life.
We got in the hotel room and I couldn’t believe my eyes. He had thirty pounds all piled up in a corner and there were two friends and three girls with him. They were sitting at the table snorting lines and drinking beer. I looked at the pounds. “How’d you get those across the California border without anyone seeing?”
“Nate helped me with that.” Carl flew down and his friend Nate drove the pounds in a camper.
Wanna snort?”
Carl handed me the straw.
“No thanks I gotta keep my head together. I suggest you do the same.”
“You do what you want or not. Me, I’m gonna party.” Carl sat down with Nate and the girls and drank and snorted lines of coke. I curled up on the couch in the next room and tried to sleep. It took awhile, I had to clear my mind of the bad feeling I had. I knew it was useless to try and talk Carl and his friends out of partying. Better off for me to get some shut eye.
I woke up the next day before anyone else did. I took a walk to find a cup of coffee and thought about just leaving. I had a few things set up, my glass shop, the indoor weed grow, not to mention motorcycle school. I knew it was a bad decision to stay. Carl’s biggest problem was he was young. That’s why he needed someone to rock this with. People tend to try and rob a young snowboarder from Bellingham Washington. Kids were getting ripped off left and right back then. For twenty and forty packs at a time. Dudes tougher than them would look right at these kids and say ”We lost it. Sorry. It was only twenty pounds. We’ll pay it back next time.”
What was Carl going to do? Call the cops? I don’t think so. Most of the time Carl and his friends were rolling so hard they just looked at it as an incidental expense. On the other hand the guys ripping these kids off were looking at it as insuring themselves more work. Now Carl would have to front them more weed just to get his money back. It was a vicious cycle.
That’s where I came in. That’s how me and Carl became friends, collecting. I had no problem collecting debts. Collecting gets half. Not a bad gig. Or like in this case, making sure he didn’t get ripped off. I had my coffee and thought about what to do. I decided I would at least rent him the car like I said I would. I wanted to see how easy the first day went. Then I would make my decision on how long I stayed.
When I got back to the hotel everyone was awake. The girls were gone and there was a tall Mexican dude leaving. We almost bumped into each other as he left. He was carrying a little back pack probably with a pound or two in it.
“Who’s that?”
“Friend of mine. He took a pound to show around as a sample.”
“Where’s the girls? Where’s Nate?”
“I kicked them out. Nate went to get breakfast. We got work to do. I’m gonna get ready.”
Carl took out a little straw and a piece of foil and opened a bindle with some Mexican Brown Heroin in it.
“What’s that? What are you doing? You said we had work to do.” I snapped.
“I’ve been up all night snorting lines. I need to level out.”
”Level out? What the fuck does that mean?”
“What’s your problem?”
“My problem is I am an ex junkie and I don’t need that shit near me.”
“So go wait in the other room.” I started hating Carl with a passion.
Carl lit a match and held it under the foil. The little brown spot started moving and he took a big hit of dope and sat back feeling it. I could smell the acrid sweet smell of dope. It was making my mouth water and my skin crawl. I stood there watching him.
I hadn’t even been near heroin in a few years so this was heavy for me. Carl handed the straw over.
“You sure you don’t want a hit?”
“I’m sure I don’t.”
“You’re not going to become a junkie from one hit.”
“You can only become a junkie one time. Not twice. I already am a junkie.”
Sometimes you can’t stop yourself. I had no idea I would find dope in front of me when I left Arizona. I would have never gone. I was still in the keep it away from me period. But it’s all a learning experience.
Carl took a big hit of dope and held it in. I watched him and my mind and body wanted a hit. Carl let out his hit sat back and held out the little straw again.
“You sure?”
“Shut up. Fuck you. Go get ready.”
Carl looked at me and understood real quick that I had turned into someone else. Fortunately for him I turned right back into the ruthless junkie he had heard about. Which is exactly what he needed. Just being near dope turned me back into the psycho I once was. Dope scared the shit out of me now. I was not ready to give up my life again or all the clean time I had accumulated.
Things move fast in slow motion when you are living the mistake first hand. We grabbed a pound to go show some of Carl’s friends near San Diego. As we left the hotel I was looking around to see if anyone was taking any notice of us. Everywhere I looked it was business as usual. The cleaning ladies were cleaning rooms, people were checking in and out.
“What about the pounds?” I asked. I didn’t think we should leave them alone for the cleaning lady to find.
“Nate is gonna stay and watch them. He gets paid for that.”
“Don’t you wanna wait till he gets back?”
Carl looked at his watch.
“Can’t wait. We gotta go. Gonna be late otherwise. I put a do not disturb sign on the door. Nate will be back
in ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes aint nothing. We can wait.”
“But.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Carl shut up. He had no choice. He wasn’t the muscle of the operation. I was pissed dope showed up in our mix. I didn’t expect that and it pissed me off big time. Nate showed up in ten minutes exactly and we left to go rent a car. Then drive around and show the sample to potential customers.
Renting the car was no problem. We got in the car and Carl took another hit of dope.
“How much of that shit do you have?”
“I only got two grams. It’s almost gone.?”
“We sat in the car and Carl got loaded further, then we took off to go drive pounds around L.A.
The first two spots we went to didn’t work out. It was the same story everywhere we went, everyone wanted to buy some pounds but no one had any money. Everyone wanted Carl to front them the weed and let them go work it on the street.
“You aint doing that.” I told him after we left the second spot.
“Why not?”
“Cause you wont ever get it back. I aint staying here to collect all this dough. You said you had the whole thing set up. You are doing what they want to do………except you don’t know anyone here.”
“ I know a guy in Escondido. Let’s go see him.”
“Down by San Diego?”
“Yeah. I know him from last years harvest, he told me to come see him when I got here. He is good for twenty pounds for sure.”
“Nothing’s for sure.”
“At least he will know where to get rid of them.”
I was already feeling the jones come on just being near dope. It was too soon for me to be this close. Dope was not in my picture anymore and I liked it that way. It doesn’t matter how long you been away from dope, two months or twenty years. When you pick it back up again, you are right where you left off. And when I stopped I had a Monster habit. I didn’t want to have any habit anymore and I knew it.
We went cruising down I-5 toward San Diego and on the left we passed a big check point or something.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” Carl said.
“That.” I pointed in the rear view and you could see the cars backing up to a toll plaza.
“It looks like a toll plaza.”
“Why would there be a toll plaza out here?” I knew something was wrong. It just felt wrong. We pulled over on the next exit and pulled into a rest stop on the side of the highway. There were a few cars there with people hanging out, eating their lunch or resting. I parked the car and next to us was a car with two young couples in it. Carl got out and walked to the pay phone to call his friend. We were so unorganized. I walked over to one of the guys parked next to us.
“What is that back there? That big toll plaza?”
“Federal checkpoint.” The guy said. The way he said it was like everyone around here knew that.
“Federal checkpoint for what?” I asked him.
“For whatever Holmes. Drugs. Illegals. Even fruits and vegetables. Whatever the man can bust you for.”
“Is there any other way around?”
“Nope.”
I stood there thinking about this for a moment.
The two couples walked in the opposite direction. The guy looked at me with a smile.
“Good luck Holmes.”
I turned to walk to where Carl was sitting over looking the ocean.
“My friend says he just re upped and he won’t need any weed till next week. Then he can take ten.” Carl said kind of disappointed.
“So we drove out here for nothing.”
“Seems that way.”
“This is bad.”
“What is?”
“This deal. It’s all bad. That’s a federal checkpoint we passed. And there is no other way back.”
“We gotta dump that weed.”
“No we don’t.” Carl didn’t want to just throw they weed away.
“You can lose one.”
“No I can’t. We’ll be fine. It’s in a turkey bag. They won’t smell it at all.”
“You willing to take that risk?”
“Yes. We’ll be fine. Let’s go clean out the car.”
Carl got up and went to the car. I got up reluctantly and followed him. I had to play out the cards I had dealt myself.
“We gotta go back to the hotel.” Carl said
“Yes we do. Without the pound. You can take the loss.”
“No I can’t. Everything is going to be fine. They just wave the cars through. Lets go. The car is rented in your name so you gotta drive it. I’ll give you and extra grand.”
“And what happens if we get busted?”
“I’ll bail you out and pay for your attorney. But that’s not going to happen.”
Famous last words. We wrapped the pound in a bunch of dirty clothes and re-stashed it underneath the backseat.
I started the car and got back on the highway heading back towards Los Angeles. As we approached the checkpoint the cars were lining up about forty cars deep. The cops were mostly waving cars through. I knew it was all bad. I had an ominous feeling. I could see myself getting busted in a matter of minutes. I wanted to get out of the car and start walking but I was close enough to be seen by the cops and I figured they would jump in their cars and pick me right up. Besides there was no where to go.
“This is bad. This is bad. I should get out right now.” I said.
“Stop saying that. We’re going to be fine. Just act normal.”
We pulled up to the guard and he looked at us and shook his head. We must have looked pretty banged up. Carl had been up most of the night, and I had the attitude and feeling of defeat. I was already down in the dumps for making a bad decision by leaving school and coming here to make a fast buck. Regret is a powerful thing.
The cop leaned in the window and took a good look at us. It was a lady cop with a huge rack.
“Where you boys coming from?” She asked us. We had no clue.
“Disneyland. We were looking for Disneyland but I think we took the wrong exit.”
“That’s for sure.” She waved to some other officers to come over.
“Pull your car over there.” She pointed up ahead to the side of the road where some other cars had been pulled over and were being inspected. I started making the drive for the last forty feet of this journey and I knew it.
“We’re going to jail.” I said. Carl was finally silent. The silence of recognition. He knew I was right.
Three cops came over with a dog.
“You two gentlemen stand right over there.” The cop pointed to the guard rail we were parked next to. They let the dog go and he went pretty crazy looking inside and outside of the car.
“Well. According to this dog you have weed in this car. Want to tell us where it is? Or do we have to rip the car apart?”
Carl stood up.
“I have an eighth in my pocket in the back. Can I get it out?”
“Yes.”
Carl grabbed a pair of pants from the back pulled out a small bag of weed and and handed it to the officer. The dog seemed to be satisfied and he relaxed.
“This is all there is?”
“Yes sir.” Carl said. It was a little too late for ‘Sir’.
“We wouldn’t arrest you for this anyway.” The cop said. For a minute I thought we might just get out of there unscathed.
“You gentlemen go with this officer and wait in that building. We have to search the car. If this all there is, then we are going to let you go.”
We walked into the building and they drove our car into the back where they do the real search. I knew we were done. I turned off like a switch and got silent. There was nothing to do except play it out. I sat on that bench and started running through my mind the ramifications of this bad decision I had made. I was clean, about to go to school, on my path. Now I was sitting on a bench in a police station about to embark once again on an all too familiar journey. Jail, b
ail, attorney. Not too mention all my stuff was in Arizona. I was falling deeper into depression as the seconds ticked by.
All of a sudden three cops walked in.
“Gentlemen. Stand up and put your hands on your heads. You are under arrest.”
That old familiar feeling was back. That slow motion feeling when all of a sudden everything is out of your control. Everything was now going to be controlled by the system. However long or short this was going to take was no longer up to me.
“I am so sorry bro. I should have listened.” Carl said.
“Shut up.” I was furious.
“Soon as we get inside I will have my buddy bail us out.”
“Sure you will. Like I mean it. I’m SURE you will.”
We waited there for a few hours until some plain clothes cops came and picked us up. One of them was this biker looking guy. Beard, boots, Harley Davidson T shirt. I thought to myself, can’t trust anyone, anywhere, anymore. They are either cops or just too careless and stupid to survive on the streets. I knew this was my mistake. I didn’t have to go Arizona. I could have said no. Sometimes saying no is harder than just uttering one syllable. Sometimes it takes internal fortitude that only grows through time. I knew I had dealt myself some bad cards, I had been locked up in my life enough to know aint nothing to do but play those cards out.
They took us to a big federal holding building near San Diego and put us in separate rooms for questioning.
“I got nothing to say.” Was all I would tell them.
“Your buddy had more to say than that.”
“Good for him. But I have nothing to say.”
I didn’t think for even one minute the cop was dong anything but lying. I knew Carl wouldn’t give me up. There was nothing to give up on me. It was his gig.
Jail is always the same. I got my bunk, my bedroll and started thinking about what I was going to do. Mostly I needed to learn form the mistakes I had just made. That is always the biggest lesson, learning from your own mistakes.
Carl got bailed out by the next day. I guess the people who owned the weed needed him back on the street to control the other twenty eight pounds that were still in the hotel.
“I’ll get you right out.” Carl said to me through the bars as he was leaving with the other inmates that made bail that day.
Becoming A Son Page 27