He heard Jeff’s bike turn into the
drive and pull up outside the door.
“It’s done. Cops asked a lot of questions. I don’t know her damn apartment number. I just told ‘em there was someone dead and the name of the complex and that it’s the bottom apartment in the last building on the left. They should find her”.
“Thanks,” he told Jeff sincerely.
“That’s what brothers are for,” he said sitting and taking the bottle. He took a sip and set it on the table. “So you told me what happened but you never said where you got that much rock.” He hesitated. Then “You and Rat did it again, huh? You know he’s gonna get you shot or busted or something. You gotta’ stop doing that stupid shit.”
“Yeah, I know. And I’m done with it as soon as I get rid of this. Don’t wanna cut it or divide it or anything. Just want some cash,” he said and tossed the baggie onto the table.
Jeff picked it up and scrutinized it for moment.
“How much is here?” His Buck knife appeared from nowhere. He opened the bag, dipped the tip into the powder, sniffed it up his left nostril and repeated the process for the benefit of his right nostril.
“Started with an ounce and a half, split it with Rat and gave maybe two to Kerry. That leaves what, eighteen, nineteen grams or so? Where’s your scale?” Doran took the meth and knife and repeated Jeff’s actions.
Jeff got out an old style triple beam scale and they weighed it at just short of nineteen grams.
“Know anyone might want it?” Doran asked.
“No. We can try Ailey though. She’s been hanging with J-Jack lately. He’s usually looking for something.”
“I don’t like that son of a bitch. What’s with the extra J, anyway?” Doran asked. His head was clearing a little after that last bump.
“I dunno. Jerk off, or something. But I think they’re over there now. Let’s go see.”
They walked around the back of the house and up the stairs to her door. Ailey’s place was above the portico and, like Jeff’s, was one room with an efficiency kitchen and a tiny bathroom. Unlike Jeff’s, it had a lot of windows and a bright airy feel.
J-Jack’s bike was chained to the banister.
Doran had known Ailey longer than Jeff, since he was maybe ten when Ailey and his sister had been friends. Though it seemed he’d known her forever, they’d never been that close. She’d always been pretty and she’d always been someone else’s girlfriend and she’d always seemed ditzy to him. They just didn’t click.
Ailey opened the door at Jeff’s knock and they stepped inside. J-Jack was standing there and didn’t say a word to them. Instead he just handed Doran a burning joint. Doran took a toke and passed it to Jeff.
“Hey, y’all know anyone wants to buy some crank?” Doran skipped the cordialities and jumped right in.
"Maybe. How much?” J-Jack asked as he exhaled a huge lungful of smoke. He was a huge, tattooed, leathered man with bushy black hair and beard and a bushier reputation. He was just plain dangerous.
“Eighteen grams. A little more, maybe,” Doran answered.
“Let’s see it,” J-Jack said.
Under different circumstances Doran might have been more cautious. Everyone here except Ailey was packing and J-Jack had done hard time for using his piece before. But no one was gonna’ throw down in Ailey’s place over less than an ounce. Doran handed the baggie to J-Jack.
“Where’s your scale, baby?” J-Jack looked at Ailey as he took the baggie and rubbed the rocks between thumb and forefinger.
Ailey produced a scale, identical to Jeff’s, from a cabinet and they all watched him silently. After he was satisfied about the weight, he took a snort and almost immediately felt the grains knife into his brain, tasted them draining in the back of his throat.
“Give you two grand right now,” he finally said.
“Done.” Doran knew he could get more, probably a lot more. But he just wanted to be done with it. He wanted to be done with a lot of shit right now. He took the twenty Benjamins that J-Jack peeled from a huge wad and he and Jeff left.
“Gotta’ go,” he told Jeff and headed for his car. Jeff followed him.
“You OK, man?” he asked. There was genuine concern for his friend on his face as he focused on Doran’s eyes.
“Yeah. I just feel like I got some thinking to do, you know? I mean, it’s hard to say, but,” he hesitated. “Just got some stuff to figure out. Thanks, though.”
“Sure. Today had to suck for you. I know you two had something, or could have. Always wondered why you never moved on her.”
“Yeah, me too. She was kinda’ special. But she needed saving and I can’t even save myself, goddamn it. Later,” Doran sighed as got in the car and started it. Jeff never questioned him when he said things like that, just took them in and understood. Or at least he seemed to. That was one of the reasons Doran loved the guy.
“Yeah, later. Don’t just disappear again, huh?” Jeff said through the window.
“It’s done. Cops asked a lot of questions. I don’t know her damn apartment number. I just told ‘em there was someone dead and the name of the complex and that it’s the bottom apartment in the last building on the left. They should find her”.
“Thanks,” he told Jeff sincerely.
“That’s what brothers are for,” he said sitting and taking the bottle. He took a sip and set it on the table. “So you told me what happened but you never said where you got that much rock.” He hesitated. Then “You and Rat did it again, huh? You know he’s gonna get you shot or busted or something. You gotta’ stop doing that stupid shit.”
“Yeah, I know. And I’m done with it as soon as I get rid of this. Don’t wanna cut it or divide it or anything. Just want some cash,” he said and tossed the baggie onto the table.
Jeff picked it up and scrutinized it for moment.
“How much is here?” His Buck knife appeared from nowhere. He opened the bag, dipped the tip into the powder, sniffed it up his left nostril and repeated the process for the benefit of his right nostril.
“Started with an ounce and a half, split it with Rat and gave maybe two to Kerry. That leaves what, eighteen, nineteen grams or so? Where’s your scale?” Doran took the meth and knife and repeated Jeff’s actions.
Jeff got out an old style triple beam scale and they weighed it at just short of nineteen grams.
“Know anyone might want it?” Doran asked.
“No. We can try Ailey though. She’s been hanging with J-Jack lately. He’s usually looking for something.”
“I don’t like that son of a bitch. What’s with the extra J, anyway?” Doran asked. His head was clearing a little after that last bump.
“I dunno. Jerk off, or something. But I think they’re over there now. Let’s go see.”
They walked around the back of the house and up the stairs to her door. Ailey’s place was above the portico and, like Jeff’s, was one room with an efficiency kitchen and a tiny bathroom. Unlike Jeff’s, it had a lot of windows and a bright airy feel.
J-Jack’s bike was chained to the banister.
Doran had known Ailey longer than Jeff, since he was maybe ten when Ailey and his sister had been friends. Though it seemed he’d known her forever, they’d never been that close. She’d always been pretty and she’d always been someone else’s girlfriend and she’d always seemed ditzy to him. They just didn’t click.
Ailey opened the door at Jeff’s knock and they stepped inside. J-Jack was standing there and didn’t say a word to them. Instead he just handed Doran a burning joint. Doran took a toke and passed it to Jeff.
“Hey, y’all know anyone wants to buy some crank?” Doran skipped the cordialities and jumped right in.
"Maybe. How much?” J-Jack asked as he exhaled a huge lungful of smoke. He was a huge, tattooed, leathered man with bushy black hair and beard and a bushier reputation. He was just plain dangerous.
“Eighteen grams. A little more, maybe,” Doran answered.
“Let’s see it,” J-Jack said.
Under different circumstances Doran might have been more cautious. Everyone here except Ailey was packing and J-Jack had done hard time for using his piece before. But no one was gonna’ throw down in Ailey’s place over less than an ounce. Doran handed the baggie to J-Jack.
“Where’s your scale, baby?” J-Jack looked at Ailey as he took the baggie and rubbed the rocks between thumb and forefinger.
Ailey produced a scale, identical to Jeff’s, from a cabinet and they all watched him silently. After he was satisfied about the weight, he took a snort and almost immediately felt the grains knife into his brain, tasted them draining in the back of his throat.
“Give you two grand right now,” he finally said.
“Done.” Doran knew he could get more, probably a lot more. But he just wanted to be done with it. He wanted to be done with a lot of shit right now. He took the twenty Benjamins that J-Jack peeled from a huge wad and he and Jeff left.
“Gotta’ go,” he told Jeff and headed for his car. Jeff followed him.
“You OK, man?” he asked. There was genuine concern for his friend on his face as he focused on Doran’s eyes.
“Yeah. I just feel like I got some thinking to do, you know? I mean, it’s hard to say, but,” he hesitated. “Just got some stuff to figure out. Thanks, though.”
“Sure. Today had to suck for you. I know you two had something, or could have. Always wondered why you never moved on her.”
“Yeah, me too. She was kinda’ special. But she needed saving and I can’t even save myself, goddamn it. Later,” Doran sighed as got in the car and started it. Jeff never questioned him when he said things like that, just took them in and understood. Or at least he seemed to. That was one of the reasons Doran loved the guy.
“Yeah, later. Don’t just disappear again, huh?” Jeff said through the window.
wow great prose :)
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