Chapter 1

The Beginning

My name is Leonard and I have been clean for 14 years,” Leonard managed to get out. The din of the crowd could have been heard for blocks. These guys really took stories like this to heart. No one clean for more than ten years would ever attend these meetings, making Leonard’s story especially impressive to them. It is very refreshing for a recovering addict to hear from others who have gone though the same thing. Leonard had been going to these meetings for around 10 years.

He stood at the podium at an average height of Five-Ten. Wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of acid washed jeans, he looked like Axl Rose, only ten years past his prime. His hair, a tangled mess of brown curls, was kept steady by a pair of aviator sunglasses. The 1980’s had ceased almost nine years earlier, but this fact did not really set into Leonard’s mind. Standing on the podium he looked like the cool dad that everyone grew up with. You know that dad; the dad that would let his son’s friends drink in the garage while he would be inside rocking out on a Fender Mustang trying to learn the riff for Neil Young’s Ohio.

“That’s amazing to hear, Leonard. Can we call you Lenny?” spoke the group leader

“I’d prefer Leonard--that’s why I wrote it on my name tag.” Leonard never let anyone call him Lenny. It brought back old memories: the days when he was Uncle Lenny, but he had screwed that all up.

“That’s fair. Please continue to tell us about how you turned your life around. I can not tell you how inspirational you story is.”

“Thank you…Well, the first five years of sobriety I was in jail. Feew, I always knew drugs would end me up in jail, but it never seemed real, you know?” He continued, “It didn’t seem real until I had to say good bye to all the people I let down: my mother, father and everyone else. I lost God, I lost my reason for living, but once you’re in jail you realize that nearly everyone there has done the same. It was a real eye opener. I’ve never been good at these things, I’m sorry. I wish I could contribute more to the discussion, but I think that is enough. Thank you all for your support.”

As his nerves hit a boiling pint, he stepped down from the podium and made his way to a seat in the front row. Palms sweaty, he just wanted the remaining ten minutes to tick by quickly. The meeting was finally up to the last speaker. Leonard gave a quick glance to the podium and his heart stopped. She was so beautiful.

“I am a Junkie,” the lady said roughly. She had a face that would stop men in their tracks. Something was very peculiar about the face, but Leonard could not put his finger on it. Locks of dirty-blonde hair ran down the back of her neck, swooping as it touched the top of her back. Her face had a few wrinkles, but it was obvious more were to come in the future. With eyes were about as baggy as your local airport’s luggage claim, you could tell something was different about her, but you would never guess she was a junkie. She continued, seemingly unremorseful, “When I’m not high, everyone around just bugs me. They expect me to do everything for them. Drugs are my escape; I’d die without them. I know you all loved drugs at one point. Think about how happy you all were when you got high. Now you all just look like a bunch of skinny losers,” she said, enraging the group’s discussion leader.

“Excuse me, miss, I don’t know what you think this is, but we discuss how we deal without the use drugs here. Honestly, I don’t see how someone could be so heartless. It would be best if you’d leave, immediately.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to offend any of you former addicts.” She left the old building from the back exit and sat on the curb for a cigarette. Leonard was still in awe of her beauty. He wondered if he should leave the place and go talk to her. Normally, Leonard would just keep to himself, but this mystery junkie really struck his fancy. Knowing that the meeting was in its closing minutes, he decided to join her on the curb. Leonard had not been with a woman since his former girl-friend, Melinda, who he had split with almost a year ago. The two were perfect for each other, Leonard thought, but he managed to screw that one up also.

“I think that was really courageous and rather funny what you did,” he said nervously. Through the nervousness, he tried to keep his cool. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was just another former addict. “I used to do those types of things,” he said, thinking he was sly.

She stared at him, thinking he was joking. When she saw that it was no joke, she laughed. Something about him made her feel comfortable. Although he was a small, sweaty, nervous man, she felt safe with his very presence.

“Why were you in there?” she asked.

“I used to be really into all sorts of drugs, but not so much anymore. I go to these things to comfort me. You know, so I don’t feel like a complete junkie,” he responded.

She smiled at him and took a bag out of her purse. In a low-pitched voice, almost how you would expect a cat to sound, she said, “I have a little bit of that meth left. You look like you need some.”

For basically 14 years he was straight as a board, but for some reason he really wanted it this time. Was it her face or just the notion that someone was giving him the time of day that intrigued him so much? He could feel the itch that he would often get back in the day. Thoughts of denying her request came to the front off his mind, but then he looked in her eyes. He saw everything he loved about drugs in her eyes. They were baggy, bloodshot and above all, beautiful. She could have been a model, but the street drugs took all of the life out of her. Leonard loved her lifelessness; he could relate to it.

“Yes, thanks for the offer. I could really use some,” he said, nearly in tears at his own response.

“That 14 years shit was a riot. They ate it all up. You’re like their hero. If only they could see you know,” she laughed.

“I like clowning on those burn outs too,” he said reluctantly. He didn’t want her to think he was a loser.

They sat there in the back of the ally. Rotting garbage and decay was all that could be smelt. It was like a hole in the universe, or somewhere people go to die. A homeless man hovering over a burning garbage can gave the couple a toothless smile. The smell in the air clogged Leonard’s lungs. He could not decide what was burning: it was either rubber or human flesh. As much as he tried to picture the former, chances are that it was flesh. Whatever it was, though, it made his nose burn. Above all, there was the smell of hopelessness in the air, which smelled sublime. It drowned the burning smell right out of Leonard’s nose.

Having been living in a clean apartment for the past ten years, Leonard was not used to this environment. In his cozy loft, he would sleep on a bed he got from an Ikea catalog. A top his bed lay a duvet; not a cover, but a duvet. The rest of his furniture was straight from Macy’s. Being in the alley gave him a reminder of his old home. The scenery gave him an unsettling feeling, but once he took the first hit, he knew this was where he belonged. The burning smell slowly became more bearable and almost even admirable. While lying back on a pile of old newspapers, he could vaguely see the stars. As a kid, his father would take him on the roof to gaze at the stars. This pleasant reminder of childhood put him in a great mood.

“Take a look at this,” he said to her, “it’s beautiful.”

She placed her head back and looked at the sky. Through the electrical wires she could see the dim reminisce of far off stars. Her faced turned as bright as the stars themselves. She too had wires covering her face, blocking the full potential of brightness. In the alley, all was dark.

“I almost wish I wasn’t so messed up right now so I could really appreciate it,” she said, giving a slight chuckle.

Leonard gave a half-laugh at her statement, even though he found it depressing. After realizing that he had not asked her name, he inquired.“By the way, I didn’t ask your name,” he said.

“Well, are you going to?”

“What’s your name?”

“Rose. Rose Wallace”

“What a pretty name, Rose,” he said nervously. “I was wondering if…maybe you wanted to…” Leonard could not believe he was speechless. The notion made him feel defeated.

“Come on, say it.”

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go back to my apartment.” Confidence was now swelling up in his chest. It was the meth and he liked how it made him feel. “It’s much warmer than these streets.”

The walk back, although only a few blocks, seemed like forever to Leonard. He still felt the effects of the meth, but meth never settled him. The way Heroine took a grab of your body and made all feelings of pain slowly melt away is what he remembered about his experiences with drugs. Suddenly, he got the urge to ask Rose for some.

“Rose…” he muttered.

“What is it?” she laughed.

“I was wondering…”

“You’ve go to stop being so nervous. You don’t have to be. I consider myself a chill person. I don’t give off that nervous vibe, do I?” she asked

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t be nervous. I just wanted to know if you could score some junk. I wasn’t sure that you could, so I didn’t really want to burden you with the question.”

“Are you serious? If you need anything, just ask. I know this connect who has dynamite every time I call him up. He’s extremely reliable,” she told him. Rose took out her cell phone to call her connect, P.J. She said, “He is the baddest clown, with the dankest brown”

When she got him on the phone, he told her of his latest mishap. “Florida again,” he said, knowing Rose would know exactly what he meant. Wayne, PJ’s number one hook-up had moved to Florida and then back to New York about four or five times. During these periods it was always harder to find stuff.

“This will be the last pouch of dynamite for a week or so,” he told her.

“Damn Wayne. You think he’s coming back this time?”

“I doubt it, he met this chick. She lives down there so this time he actually has a pad to crash at.”

“Damn, that’s sucks”

“Yeah it does, but I’ll manage. I have no other choice. The streets are getting tough again now that summer is winding down,” he said. “So what do you say? Meet at the spot in ten minutes?”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” she said as she hung up the phone.

Rose gave a glance over to Leonard who had this peculiar smile on his face. He was not used to this feeling. Having to make his first score in nearly ten years, he did not even know what to do anymore. After being away for so long, he felt like a newcomer. How did the hand off work again? What was he supposed to say? Suddenly, he began to get very nervous. Obviously, meth was not for him; it made him particularly nervous. This time, however, it was a different nervous. It was a nervous excitement. This also brought back feelings of old time: the times he spent hurling his brains out when the junk was hard to come by, or the times when his arms burned so bad. Even memories of the time he got the horrible infection were soaring back into his mind. His nephew would ask, “What’s that, Uncle Lenny?” He tried to get those images out of his head and focus on the relaxing ones: the Euphoria and the nights that seemed endless while he listened to music all night, just melting into it. He thought of just wasting on his comfortable couch with his whole body at ease and how good it made him feel.

“It’s this way,” Rose said while scurrying for the big Lincoln Tower. After a few minutes an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard and grizzly, curly hair came toward them. He was wearing an old, beat-up read sweatshirt with the letters MEA stitched into the front. The smell that came pouring from him was a strong mix of department store musk and clove cigarettes. He smelled like a homeless man, but he certainly was not. Anyone selling dynamite surely had a pad to crash. Usually, it was a pretty nice pad too.

“How’s my favorite customer?” he said smiling.

“Same as always,” Rose responded. “I’d like you to meet someone. This is Leonard. We just met over at the freak show.”

“You’re still doing that? Do you realize how messed up that is?”

“Yeah, well I have fun,” she laughed.

“It’s still messed up. Anyway, good seeing you and nice meeting you Leonard,” he said as he walked out into the New York sidewalk.

Leonard was feeling great. The pick up went smooth, without a hitch. They were ready to trek to Leonard’s for a taste. What if he got hooked again?

Chapter 2

I’m a Fly in a Sunbeam

Leonard pushed the thought of getting hooked again to the back of his mind; he shouldn’t be thinking like that. It was just one taste, for old time’s sake. He might even get some action tonight. This notion was particularly inspirational to him, considering all those nights he spent alone in bed with nothing but thoughts of how he screwed up. After Melinda, not so much as one female has even made contact with him. With a woman practically giving herself to him, he realized that getting high was the best thing he could do tonight. He had no family to go to, no responsibilities to take care of.

With all the money from the accident he was basically set for the next couple of years. He collected a huge sum of money after being injured on the job shortly after breaking up with Melinda. Even with the extra revenue from the case, he parked cars for Le Frugia, the hottest French restaurant in town. Tonight, though, he didn’t have to think about that. He didn’t have to think about anything; he felt like his old self.

The Lincoln Tower was only a few blocks away from Leonard’s apartment building. The whole way back, he got that nervous, excited feeling in his stomach again. He did not even notice it, but they had passed his building. The notion finally hit him about a block past his building. “I’m sorry, I passed the building,” he laughed.

Rose played around, “Do you know what room you are in?”

The elevator ride up to the seventh floor dragged on with a few stops and seemed to take forever. A thought had just come to Leonard’s head: what would they use? Being clean for so long left him with nothing. He didn’t have a cooker ready or even a syringe. He was now getting nervous because Rose would think he was a loser.

“Do you have a needle and spoon? I left all my shit at my bud’s house and I forgot to pick it up this morning.”

“Well, Well, Well…you’re in luck. I’m usually not the heroin girl but with all this dynamite that PJ has been copping, it’s hard to resist. I have a few cottons left over, too, if you’re looking to get smashed.”

“What we bought will suffice I’m sure,” he replied.

When they entered Leonard’s place it was evident by the look on Rose’s face that she was shocked. How could a druggie have such a nice apartment? Her apartment was a hole in the wall compared to this loft.

“Are you sure this is your room, or did we pass it?” she laughed, half jokingly, half shocked.

“I like to keep it neat,” Leonard said.

That was very true. The living room was baron, except for a television set, table and couch. The kitchen was as tidy as Martha Stewart’s and the refrigerator was about as clean as the mouth of a conservative house-wife. The sink was empty of dirty dishes for they had all been cleaned and put away in the cupboard. He had the blue dished from Ikea, with the fancy fringes running around the outside of them. Leonard always liked to buy fancy things like that. Somehow he needed them to fill a void in his life. No matter how lonely nights felt, or how miserable his life seemed, it always gave him a certain satisfaction to eat off of nice plates.

“What music are you in the mood for?” he asked, pointed Rose toward his CD collection.

“Let me see. What do we have here,” she said. “Sonic Youth, Pavement…An Indie fan, I see. I would expect to see Def Leopard or Van Halen,” she joked. Leonard was used to such jokes. “Here, this one seems good.”

She took out Wilco’s “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” and placed it in the CD player. Then out came the cooker and needle. Rose fixed her taste and found her favorite vein. She had been lucky, since she was able to use the same vein for about a month now without wasting a fix. This was Leonard’s first time handling this equipment in nearly a decade. It scared him a little but, but he knew all his worries were about to disappear into the night. Looking down at the cooker, he noticed his fix sitting right there. He stared at it and gave a smile. It seemed to give him a smile back. Finding a vein was easy as cake, considering he had been clean for so long. Steering clear of his left arm, since it reminded him of his infection, he went straight for the right. He found a nice, fat one in his arm and took his fix, feeling the warmness fill his body. The devil was doing a dance in the pit of his stomach, while rubbing his intestines and playing the accordion with his ribs. He had forgotten this feeling, but remembered it being amazing, however no where near as intense as this. He could barley lift up his arm and his eyelashes were heavy.

“Rose, you weren’t kidding, this is some dynamite shit,” he said.

“PJ has it going, but this is that last of it until he can fin another hook-up. Even then, it’s not going to be this good. So, enjoy it”

In his addict years this news would have driven Leonard up the wall. This time, however, he did not care. For all he cared, PJ could never find another hook-up. All he wanted was a taste or two. He loved the feeling of being high, especially when it was not a necessity. The fact that he would not be a fiend this made him happy. Leonard lied down on the couch next to Rose. Feeling content, he put his arms around her.

“Can I ask you something Lenny?” said Rose.

“I don’t really like ‘Lenny’. I’d much rather you call me Leonard,” he told her as he did with the meeting instructor.

“Oh, how noble. Well, Leonard, I wanted to know how you have the money for this stuff when you don’t push. You don’t push anything, do you?”

“No, it’s really a long story,” he said.

“Leonard, you don’t have time for me?” Rose put on a pouty face that made her look even more beautiful to Leonard.

“Okay. Okay. Two years ago, I was parking cars for a restaurant when some guy came from the left and mashed me. I was hospitalized for a few months. The hospital time was horrible considering I was hurt pretty badly. The good thing is I collected a giant sum of money form worker’s comp and the guy that hit me. I’m set for a while you could say, but I like parking cars, so I still do it.”

“That’s not a long story, Leonard, you lied to me,” she said, with a pseudo-pout.

Leonard could tell she was hitting on him; however, he did not feel nervous, but rather he felt relaxed, confident. He slowly let his mouth move in hers as they lie together on his couch.

“You wanna move this to my bed?” he asked. “It’s got much more room so we won’t be cramped.”

“I’d love to,” she said.

Chapter 3

Homeless

When Leonard awoke in the morning, a smile as wide as the Nile sat upon his face. He could not remember exactly what had happened the night before, but he knew it was good. Turning over on his bed, he saw that he was alone. The bathroom light is on, Rose must be in there he thought. When no one came out of the bathroom for a while, Leonard went over to the door to check it out. He opened the door and the room was empty. Where was she? Did she leave without saying anything to him? Leonard was panicking. Dumfounded, he decided that he would hit the streets to see if he could find her familiar face. While showering he thought about how events unfolded last night. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that would make Rose angry at him and the sex, well it was great he thought.

The streets of New York were particularly quiet at 7:00 in the morning, or so it seemed. Leonard went to the spots where the junkies hung out. He saw an older man lying in a gutter. There was vomit in what was left of his hair, but he did not seem to mind. The rags that he used as clothes made the Good-Will seem like Armani. The man had a peculiar look on his face. A bushy beard blocked the lower half of his face but there was something in his eyes. There was something in the way he just blankly stared at the passersby. He kept mumbling something, but Leonard tried not to pay attention. Leonard was that man once; he too would lie in the gutter. The man got louder and louder until Leonard could hear what was being said. “Help,” not in the way that he was demanding help, but rather asking for help. As if he was saying, “Please. How can I do it myself?” Usually the hobos that filled the city streets did not affect Leonard, but this time it was different. He usually just threw a buck or two into their jar and went on his business, but the further he walked, the worse he felt. Leonard hung around the area for a while, acting as if he had business to do. He had virtually forgotten Rose for now and was completely fixated on this homeless man. The mumbling became incoherent again, but Leonard knew that he was still asking for help. Finally he built up the urge to walk away. Emptiness was swelling up inside his body as he walked into a coffee house. He picked out a newspaper and sat down to get a cup of coffee. The search for Rose was obviously not going to well; he knew this, and he decided to go back to his place.

Rose was waiting outside his door when he got to the seventh floor. She was carrying a rather large bag of groceries. Surprise could be seen in her face. Her eyes looked very heavy and her hair was a mess, but she was still the same beauty that Leonard had seen the previous night.

“Where were you?” asked Leonard.

“Are you serious? You can’t tell from the bag of groceries I am holding? I should ask the same to you. I was going to make you breakfast but by the time I got back…”

Leonard felt really bad for asking the question. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe you would do that for me. No one has ever done anything nearly as nice for me”

“Maybe you should return the favor by helping out that homeless man. That would be very venerable.” He realized that Rose’s mouth did not move. For some reason he could not get that image out of his head. He tried to push the image out of his brain, considering he had found Rose after all. It was if he did not even gone out that morning; it was as if he had never seen the homeless guy.

This time her mouth did move, “You think I normally get up at this hour and get ready to make breakfast? I barley know how to make food. Truth is that I really think you are a great guy Leonard and I wanted to do something special.”

Rose whipped some eggs and bacon for the both of them. She was defiantly not a good cook, but it is really hard to screw up such an easy dish. She managed to screw it up regardless. The bacon looked like the underside of a rock, but the eggs were edible. For the first time since he was a child Leonard felt genuinely happy. He was no longer thinking of the bum from the morning.

“Remember how I said I have those cottons left? Do you want to take them and maybe go to the zoo?” Rose asked.

Leonard heard what she said but he could not find the words to respond. He was too deep in the hole; now was not the time to come clean about being clean. She had just made him breakfast and he was not ready to let such a good thing go. A cold sweat began to pour down his face. This was exactly how he became so messed up in the first place. While repeating “Just Once” in his head, he realized that he still had not given a verbal answer to Rose’s question.

“Get out the needle,” he said.

Rose went over to the drawer where she had her things stashed and took out a needle. She fixed herself a taste and found a good vein, but she could not find old trusty so she settled for a vein in her hand. Leonard watched her with an odd look on his face. Was he getting bad? This was his second fix and he was already feeling the extreme guilt that went along with it. When it was time for Leonard to fix himself a taste, he almost threw up. “I’m doing this shit again” he kept saying in his mind. He found a vein in his right arm very quickly and then fixed his taste. After all the preparations were done he inserted the needle into the same vein in his right arm. Moments later, the guilt melted off of him and all he could think about was the zoo. Thoughts of elephants, pandas and every other animal made him smile. His body was just lying there on the couch, feeling magnificent. A broad smile ran across his face. Instead of repeating negative things, his mind kept repeating, “What’s wrong with another taste? It’s not as if I going to get hooked again.”

“I’m so glad I went to that meeting last night. Lately all the guys I’ve been meeting are either abusive or they want to steal all my drugs,” Rose said.

“I couldn’t live with myself if I acted that way. When I saw you at the meeting, all I could think was that there is no way someone that pretty could be a junkie. Then, I realized that you’re not a junkie. You don’t live on the street, or turn tricks just to get off one time.”

“You’re right. I guess that’s why I like you, too. You’re not a junkie. You don’t even seem to enjoy using that much. I’ve seen the faces you give it when you’re cooking.”

“I just think that I could be doing anything else and I wonder why I have to use these things, but once I take them I remember why.”

“And I forget just why I taste…” Rose began.

“Oh yeah, I guess, it makes me smile.” Leonard continued. “You a Kurt fan too?”

“He is my favorite. I think it is because of him and William S. Burroughs why I want to become a writer, they were so magnificent.” Rose said. Just then, the zoo came back into her mind. “The Zoo! I almost forgot. Let’s get going.”

Chapter 4

Someone told me it’s all happening at the Zoo

“I am going to feed the monkeys, regardless of what the sign says,” Leonard joked to Rose. He was in a great mood. The sun was a lot brighter today than it had been yesterday and the flowers they just smelled so pretty today.

The couple was on their way to the subway when Leonard caught sight of the homeless man again. He shook it off this time, noticing the beautiful vine that was growing on the side of the building behind the man. “Look at that, it’s so beautiful,” he said, pointing the way of the building.

“Eww, he has vomit all over him,” replied Rose.

“Not the man, the vines. They look so pretty. That design is peculiar. Usually you see a bunch of vines in some awkward shuffle, but that one is a pattern.”

Rose did not saying anything further about the vines. To her it was the same old building she was used to seeing. There was no pattern to see, nothing was special about it. They continued for the subway, passing a slew of characters on their way. A group of school children were entering a museum. Leonard noticed one child in the back of the line. Everyone else was talking to friends, but this particular child walked alone. As far as Leonard could tell, he was just like the other boys. The look in this child’s face was that of a middle-aged, divorced father. His sadness was apparent to the whole world. This was a weakness that little kids take pleasure in picking on. He was such an easy target. “James,” his teacher yelled, “You’re too far behind! Come up here, with the group. If you stay back there, you’re going to wind up getting lost. Open your mouth and talk with your classmates.”

Even though he was high, the sight really bothered Leonard. Why do kids have to pick on each other? That is why some many people grow up to be fucked-up adults, and then they have fucked-up children. The whole thing is a never ending cycle.

Leonard managed to push James away and settle his thoughts on time he was going to spend at the zoo. They hopped on the subway and took the remaining seats in the cart. The cart was filled with the homeless and businessmen alike. Leonard and Rose giggled at the old lady in the corner of the cart. She had fallen asleep and was snoring pretty heavily. Everyone in the cart was clearly annoyed, but no one wanted to wake her from her sleep. After a few stops, a tall black man entered the train. He was wearing a black, leather jacket with a pair of jeans with holes in them. He sat patiently, rocking back and forth in his chair until it was his stop. The stop was the same one that Leonard and Rose would be getting off. Before leaving the train, the big man went over to the corner of the train and snagged the old lady’s purse.

She awoke suddenly and started yelling after the man, who had already flown from the train. “My Grandson’s card! My Grandson’s birthday card!” Leonard wanted to flee after the man, but he was still feeling the effected of the heroin. That was his excuse at least. The old lady continued to sit there, looking as sad as the young boy Leonard had seen earlier. She was not a mean old lady, either. You know the kind: those who give apples on Halloween and are always yelling something nasty about today’s youth. She was like a grandma: sweet, gentle and harmless. Her eyes filled with tears. Leonard could hear cry for “Help.” The same sound he heard earlier that day, “Help.” She did not mumble it, or even shout it, but rather she looked Leonard right in the face and he knew what she meant. She said it with her eyes; her sweet old lady eyes; her grandma eyes. Everyone on the train looked at her for a few moments, then continued listening to their walkmans and reading the newspaper. Leonard wanted to stay on the train. He wanted to help her, it was the least he could do, but Rose demanded they get off.

“Leonard, what are you doing? This train is going to start moving again. This is the stop closest to the zoo.”

He left the subway cart feeling empty. Once again he decided to not answer the call for help; the same call that he made many times in his life. He thought to himself that if he was ever going to be completely satisfied with his life, he must answer that call. As he passed through the station, the image of the sad old lady was stitched into his mind. She sat on the subway, helpless, in front of a crowd of people. All of whom were now just minding their own business. Only a couple of them would even remember that the event had occurred. Once again he felt dead; like someone who was worthless. The homeless man; James; and the old lady were polluting his brain, but another thought of the zoo gave him the motivation to keep walking. He was not mad at Rose for making him leave; he knew he would have done nothing if he stayed.

Chapter 5

First Day of my Life

Leonard and Rose arrived at the Zoo a few minutes after noon. All of the days events were forgotten as the two of them arrived at the Zoo. For being a Thursday afternoon at the Bronx Zoo, it was rather baron. Only a few busses were parked in the lot. Other than a couple of field trips, not many people were out. Rose went right for the monkeys. She would always head over to the monkeys to feed them.

“I love how similar to humans they are,” she said.

“Yeah, I know,” said Leonard. “The way they throw their shit around reminds me of half the people that live in the city.”

She smiled but remained serious. “I’m not joking, Leonard. Think about it. Scientifically, they are our closest relatives. We keep them in cages. Our closest relatives are kept in cages. Does the ability to communicate through speech, a greater brain capacity and all that other crap give us the right to cage these creatures?”

“Don’t get all animal rights on me now.”

Seeing that his comment had clearly upset her, Leonard took her to the elephants, which were his favorite. Only two elephants were noticeable to the visitors. The other ones hid behind the trees. There was one male and one female elephant visible. Something was peculiar about their behavior though. One stood about 200 yards away from the other, completely avoiding it. No other elephants were around, but they still did not get close to each other. A certain look in the female elephant’s eyes told the whole story: It was his fault. Whatever happened, it was his fault, and he knew it.

Next up on the tour were the giraffes. Ten of them were cramped together, trying to get the leaves off the tall trees. One giraffe, the one with the longest neck, was trying to impress the females by eating off of the highest tree.

“Look at that showoff,” said Rose. “Does he really think that just because he has the longest neck he will get all the girls?”

“Actually scientifically that is why they have those necks. The desire for the longest neck by females’ actually speeded up the evolutionary process resulting in longer necks. Many people claim that the reason for the long necks is due to the need to eat off the taller trees, but that’s a load of BS.”

“Leonard, you’re so smart. You deserve a treat. I bought it this morning and was going to surprise you later, but now seems like the ideal time. I’ve got a good amount for both of us to get a taste.”

They were at the zoo, why ruin it by getting high? Leonard was ready to deny Rose for the first time. This time, he was not afraid she would think he was a loser. He no longer feared if she thought he was a loser. Thoughts of his rough day came toward the front of his mind: the homeless man, the helpless little kid and the old lady. There were so many depressing events that he witnessed. He wanted to get high; he didn’t feel obligated.

They searched for the janitor’s bathroom, because they did not want to resort to shooting up in the stall while all the other visitors were there in the public bathroom. After a while they noticed a janitor emerging from what look like a bathroom. Trying to keep unseen, they headed for the bathroom. After finding the door unlocked, they entered uneasily. Leonard needed the feeling of the needle in his arm; he needed the satisfaction of getting high.

Although the bathroom was no bigger than that of an airplane, it would have to suffice. With no water to cook the stuff, they had to resort to using toilet water. Leonard felt like a junkie, he thought only junkies had to resort to using toilet water. He remembered using toilet water back in the day. That was when he was a junkie, he thought, now they are just using it because they have nothing else to use. The thought of using toilet water upset him, but he knew his fix was coming soon. He watched as Rose take her taste. With a glimmer in her eyes, she rested her back against the cramped wall of the bathroom. She looked more beautiful to Leonard now than she ever had before. While preparing his fix with toilet water, Leonard searched for a sufficient vein. Finding the vein was not necessarily hard for him to find it, but it was not as easy as the first time. When he found a solid one on his right arm, he inserted the needle and watched as the fluid pumped into his vein.

He always got a certain satisfaction when there was a needle in his arm. As the heroin settled in he could feel the dancing in his stomach, the tingle in his bones. A wide smile swept across his sad face as he looked at Rose and then at the needle. In his life right now, these were the most important things. He hated to think of drugs that highly again, but they helped him find Rose. Without Rose, he would be nothing right now. The urge to kiss her washed over him like an angry storm. Surprised at first, Rose tried to jokingly brush him off, but there was something about that small janitor’s bathroom that turned her on. Leonard, feeling aggressive, removed Rose’s shirt. In his mind, he knew this whole scenario was absurd, but that did not faze him. All he knew was that Rose was the greatest thing in his life and he wanted to make her to know that. They remained in the cramped bathroom for about ten minutes making love, or at least the equivalent.

After a struggle with the door, a janitor managed to enter the bathroom. The image he got upon first entrance will forever be etched in his mind. Instead of confronting the couple, he immediately exited the door. By now, Leonard and Rose were so flustered that they made a quick exit. While laughing, they ran away from the bathroom. Something about the whole situation was comical. Out of the corner of his eye, Leonard could see the janitor pointing them out to a security guard. Knowing his day at the zoo had come to an end, Leonard took out a bag of peanuts and tossed them at the monkey’s cage. All of the creatures went after the treats in frenzy. They exited the zoo, still hysterically laughing, and finally stopped their running about a block away. Still feeling the euphoria from the junk, they both were on top of the world. Leonard felt so alive; he had not been kicked out of the zoo in about 15 years.

Still out of breath he managed to get some words out, “I’ve never had so much fun in my life.” When he thought back on the adventure and realized why it was so fun. He realized why his life was like shit for the past ten years. It was because of the drugs: they made everything so much better. All those nights spent alone in his house he spent regretting drugs could have been spent embracing them. He began to get upset that they were all out. He didn’t need more, but he sure as hell would rest easier if he did have some.

“Where did you get the stuff from today?” he asked Rose.

“I didn’t tell you? PJ’s got some dank again,” she said smiling. “Don’t worry about that right now, I think we have something to finish.”

Chapter 6

Lay Lady Lay

The night was still young and Leonard was in a great mood. The sorrows of the day were behind him and thought of having a fun night with Rose filled his excited mind. Rose, being a well-liked person, knew of a party they could both attend. Her friend Lisa was just getting an apartment and was having a few people over for the occasion.

“Lots and lots of drugs…” Rose was telling Leonard. “…Lots and Lots of connections.”

The idea of being in a room full of people he did not know would normally scare Leonard. He is not the most personable human on the planet. Knowing drugs would be there, however was settling for him. They always made him fell himself. The fact that there was going to be a lot of connections also made him feel much better. The night was going to be good, he thought. He had not had a good night out with a bunch of people in a while.

When he was dating Melinda, they would attend small dinner parties together, but he was never good at interacting. Melinda used to joke to him that he was the only guy she knew who could be so outgoing, yet so anti-social at the same time. One moment stands out in his mind: Melinda’s 30^th birthday party. She was having a small gathering at her apartment. Looking back on it, he remembered being especially apprehensive that night. He was happy for Melinda and was happy to see her having a good time, but something was unsettling to him. A man named Mark, who Melinda knew from work, was there with his boyfriend. The sight of gay men was not something Leonard was unfamiliar with; it was just that he felt uneasy with the way they interacted. Above all, he thought they couple got the notion he was a Homophobe; even though he was doing nothing too out of the ordinary. This paranoia was created in his mind. “They think I hate them. They think I hate them,” he kept repeating the words over and over in his head. From out of nowhere, it became too much to take. He ran from the room screaming “I am not a homophobe.” Melinda was so aggravated with him. All he could remember was the face she gave him when he came back. It was more than embarrassed, more than angry, more than disappointed. It was the same face that a doctor gives a mother after telling her that her son is dead, or the face a pilot makes when he realizes that his engine has died. Faces themselves feared this face. Even the very thought of it upset Leonard greatly.

Bringing up that thought made him think about tonight’s events. Even with all the drugs, could he still interact? What if he made an ass out of himself in front of everybody? The face was enough to take the first time; he could not let Rose give it to him. He realized that he had been getting these thoughts all the time now. Negative thoughts about himself were filling up his mind every time he dared to collect a thought. The thing that always pulled away the clouds of his mind was the heroin. He decided not to do any of the other drugs at the party. “Just Heroin,” he thought, “That is all I need. If anyone offers me meth, coke, or even just a little grass, I’ll tell them no.”

“You alright?” asked Rose. “I’m almost ready to go. Do you think we can make the walk reasonably quick or would you rather catch a cab?”

He was always down for the walk, but tonight he did not feel like walking. The trip was only a 20 minute walk, but he wanted to get to the party and he wanted to get high.

“I’m fine…I was just pondering some things. About the walk, usually I’m down, but tonight I’d rather hitch a cab.”

The ride to the party was pretty smooth. “Beautiful,” Leonard thought. The back of the cab smelled refreshing for once; as if a woman with a bag full of flowers rode just before them. Also, the cab driver was really nice, unlike anything either of the two has seen before. They reached Lisa’s, a big brick building that did not seem to fit in the village. Sure, it’s a beautiful place and it is the village, but there was something Leonard found peculiar about it.

When they finally walked the ten flights of stairs, they could hear the music coming from Lisa’s room. Stitched on the door of Lisa’s apartment was a poem, in which she had written:

In the walls of my home

The bloody walls of my home

Fear instilled within the pillars

Throw drama out the window

The bathroom cloth is filled with blood

From an unknown sunset

Shall you dare to enter?

Or will you wait outside

-Lisa [Hello, Welcome]

“What a pretentious fuck!” Leonard shouted.

“Leonard, be nice. Really, she’s a really old friend and I don’t want her to think we’re nuts. Besides, it’s not too bad.”

Rose’s line about not looking nuts got to Leonard. He became quiet, not wanting to anger her. After their nock was answered by a slightly overweight Asian man, they entered the loft. Six adults were standing around listening to records. Lisa, a skinny blonde with a Victoria’s Secret bust, was very happy to see Rose. The two had been fighting until recently, but everything was patched up now.

Lisa was unique; the kind of girl who in high school is named “most artistic” and then delves in drugs for the next ten years. She was the type of girl who you could go out with for a year and never notice she is crazy, until one day she chops off your testicles and throws them in a jar while you were sleeping. Her apartment showed this. It was a cozy little loft, with art filling up the walls. Most of it was dark art, with ghostly themes. Not quite gothic, but very dark. Even the windows had little designs stitched onto them. A skeleton holding a confederate flag was hanging inside her bathroom.

Leonard found himself socializing within no time. Already he had met the other six people: a black man named Charlie; the fat Asian man, Arnold; a red headed, big busted lady named Peggy; a small man named Lester; and a rather old looking lady named Raquel. He found himself talking to Charlie for a long while.

“So, you guys are into heroin?” Charlie said.

“Yeah, I guess you could say it’s my drug of choice. You happen to have any on you?” Leonard asked.

“Sheet man, Charles always got the brown sugar my brotha” he laughed.

“Nice, just what I like to hear.”

It wasn’t weird picking up the bag off of Charlie, it went smooth. Leonard was now getting a hang of this whole drug thing again. The minute he got the bag off of Charlie, Leonard felt the need to shoot it up. Now the party was migrating to the heavy blue carpet around the floor. Some groovy music was being played on the record player and the fun was just beginning. People just sat around talking, rolling joints and laughing. Leonard prepared his needle for his fix. After not being able to find a vein in his right arm, he became aggravated. Although he tried to steer clear of it, he inevitably used his left arm to shoot the junk. He could still feel the burning of the infection in his mind and he felt like putting the needle down right now and stopping. Life for the past ten years was boring, but at least it was sane. If he kept doing this, it was going to be another slow, painful process. Until now, he thought he was just taking a taste, but looking around he saw a man blowing a line, a lady smoking a joint, and a couple free basing. These were his associates. He thought of how he missed his co-worker Gary’s lame parties where the only females there were relatives of Gary and the only drugs there were the occasional six-pack. Woosh! He shoved the needle into his arm. The pain went away; all of it. He looked at Rose and she looked even more beautiful than two minutes before.

A joint was being passed around and Leonard kindly accepted it. After taking a few pokes at it and holding them in for as long as he could, he passed it to Rose. When the joint withered down, it was time for the hookah. As a house warming gift, Peggy and Lester bought Lisa a giant hookah. Leonard, forgetting his previous vow to just stick to the heroin went straight for the hookah. Usually it is the stoner who swears to lay off heroin, not the dope addict saying no to pot. Leonard knew this; he knew the hash was not going to get him hooked, so he grabbed a tube. After a couple of hits from the hookah he was feeling miraculous. Lying on the carpet, he could feel Rose’s body just beside him. He was so content; nothing could get to him. The same people he was just disgusted by seemed like the only people he wanted to be around.

“What’s that?” he asked Lester, who was blowing a line of something.

“Demerol, it’s really nice. These things will mess up even the biggest junkie. I’ve got a bunch of them if you’re looking to buy one.” Lester explained.

“Defiantly. Rose, you want one?” Leonard said with an enormous smile across his face.

“You know it,” she said smiling.

“I’ll take four,” Leonard told him.

After crushing the pain killers up into a huge mound, Leonard and Rose took about seven lines each. Following the lines, neither one was in the right frame of mind. Leonard could feel no pain, whether it be emotional or physical. Being next to Rose was the only thing he wanted to do. He moved his body through the music that was playing loud on stereo, content.

Chapter 7

Confessions

The next week was about the same as that night. Lisa’s hangout became the place for all the junkies who had. You would not find any hobos in that apartment; neither would you find a morally apt person. Leonard was no longer trying to hide the fact that he was back to his old ways. Most of his money was spent on junk and food. For the first time in a while, he was happy. Lying down on the couch in his apartment, he thought of something: he and Rose never really got a good talk in. They’ve been together for a couple of weeks and spent hours in bed together, but never really bothered to find anything out about each other. He felt this was the time for the talk. Every relationship since the dawn of mankind had one of these talks; the kind of talk where couples fall in love; the talks that fuel things to keep going. Usually, it was much earlier in the relationship, but now would suffice.

“I don’t even know you,” he said to Rose seemingly out of no where.

“What do you mean?” asked Rose, looking confused.

“You know what I mean. I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know your parents name, or even where you’re from. What’s your middle name? Why did you start using drugs? Who are you? What’s your favorite movie? Sure I know the basics of your personality, I’ve been around you for the past week straight, but I want to know more about you. I sound like such a loser saying all this, but I really find it necessary that we talk.”

She looked at him with a strange face. Although she was scared to share so many personal things, she knew it was time for that talk. She hardly knew anything about him, about his family, or about the infamous accident.

Without remorse she went right into every aspect of her life, “I’m Rose Wallace Goldeline. Let’s see…I don’t know where to start. I guess I’ll start with probably the defining moment of my life. When I was five years old I took a knife and stabbed my dad in the arm. I didn’t know what I was doing…I was angry at him and hey, I was five. The only seemingly logical thing to do at the time was to stab him. From that moment forward my life was hopeless. It’s a terrible feeling to be five tears old and have your dad hate you. I was five years old, how can you hate your five year old, no matter what they do to you.

I guess that answers the question about my parents. I wasn’t even a bad teenager. I didn’t do drugs in high school; all my boyfriends were very respectable, nice boys. But it still wasn’t enough. They have this whole right-winged perspective on things…I’m glad I haven’t talked to them in nearly 15 years. You know what I mean? They’re the type of people that think the most important thing in someone’s life is their job. They followed the American Dream, had a big beautiful house, and by that time in my life they wanted me to follow in their footsteps. I guess that answers the question bout drugs, too. It’s hard not to drugs when you have those two to come home to. When visiting from college, I would come home all high and shit, and they knew it. The first minute I’d walk in the door it would be ‘your grades aren’t up to par…we’re not paying for you to just get high all the time’ or ‘I can smell you from hear, you’ve been smoking pot.’ After a while the pot wouldn’t be enough so I’d have to go see them strung out or tripping. I’ll admit, after a while I did get a little out of control, but I was still managing myself. I got decent grades and never was arrested. Once again that wasn’t enough for them.

So the next thing they do is stop paying for my school. I was fucking in the NYU writing program; one of the better writing programs in the country. It was great…I didn’t have to commute or anything and then one day I’m visiting my parents in this big new house they just had bought for themselves in some New Jersey suburb, and they tell me ‘We’re not going to pay for you to waste away anymore.’ I was so angry; I really wanted to take another knife to my father. His face just disgusts me in every way. I tried to stay in school by getting a job, but with the cost of NYU and drugs, I’d have to be a frickin’ millionaire. So I dropped out. Life has been ever since then, though, so I can’t complain. I mean, I no longer have to visit my parents. If I never see them again in my life, it would be too great.

So that’s my life, not too bad, not too good, but I can’t complain. What about you? There is something very mysterious about you. I’m usually attracted to people who seem genuinely nice and that what I thought when I first saw you. You’re not the guy who is going to break my heart…If anything we’ll both get bored of each other. But really who are you, Leonard?”

Leonard was in shock to what he had just heard. This was not the talk he imagined, it was more of a crying out; a time for both of them to just spill their guts to the other. He had built up so much trust in Rose; he was ready to tell her the truth about himself.

“As you may have heard my name is Leonard,” he nervously laughed, the feeling in the pit of his stomach was that of discomfort. “I have to confess this to you. There is no troubled childhood in my life story. I grew up in those New Jersey suburbs to parents who loved me too much. Now I am realizing how great they were and how I let them down. I was the worst kid on the baseball team, yet they showed up to every game. None of the other kids’ parents were ever at the games. My early teenage years were great. Me and my parents had an amazing relationship. Then, I turn 18 and I’m the coolest kid in town. I started out selling weed at my high school. If you ever needed a bag of green, I was the kid to call. My parents knew about this, they caught me selling. I felt as If I hurt them so bad, but that’s nothing to what I would go on to do to them. I had tried cocaine at a party on the last day of high school… I felt the power it gave me; I felt powerful on drugs. Next I was taking ecstasy and every pain killer I could get my hands on in the small town of Bloomfield.

After high school I was ready for college in the city. My parent were worried about me…That whole summer I spent out partying, doing drugs. That was when I met my first true love: heroin. I loved the way it made me just not give a shit about what was happening in life; the brief euphoria that it gave me. Freshmen year at Manhattan College was extremely rough. The drugs were all around. I wound up failing out after only one semester. At that point I was sure I’d hit rock bottom. I would become one of those addicts who didn’t have to go through all that hardship in order to realize how fucked up I was.

But I was wrong. My parents took me home and kept close watch on me. I was sent to this crappy rehab facility in New Jersey. They had the greatest drugs I’ve ever had. If you’re looking to send someone for help, it’s usually not a good idea to send them to a shitty two week institute in Hudson County. In that case, you’re pretty much asking them to keep going. I became so deep into heroin that there was no escape I thought. Everyone that I had ever loved had given up on me. My parents had tried several times to get me clean, but it was too much, I was too deep. I ran away from them to the city. I ran way from my older brother who I looked up to for the most part of my life. How could I not look up to him? He had a great job and a beautiful kid. My nephew, Joel was the greatest thing in my life. I wanted to be a great uncle to that baby more than anything in the world. I suffered from withdrawal so many times in order to try to get clean, but when you’re hunched over a garbage can watching your insides practically wipe their way from your body, it’s hard to picture a little six month old baby.

I met a guy in New York; Grey…he invited me into his home. Before that I had been sleeping on the subway, trying to do just about anything to score a fix. Heroin became my prime reason for living. Grey’s invitation was the biggest break I could have ever wished for. He was the greatest friend in my life. He knew that I was a drug addict, but unlike all the others in my life, he accepted it. Never did he try to feed me all these views on how what I was doing was wrong and shit; he was a real friend. Living with him made me less of a junkie. I no longer had to use the dirty subway toilets and puddles in order to fix my hit. I had a sense of purpose and I found a job. It wasn’t much…just washing cars, but it kept me off of the junk for those hours of the day.

One day we decided to go nuts. It was his birthday and I had been saving up money from my job. He had just found this dealer who was selling cheap, pure, uncut brown. So we pick up a Kurt Cobain amount and are ready to enjoy his birthday. After a taste or two we are floating…this shit was dynamite, I’m not joking. I get up to go to the bathroom. I must have been a while because when I returned…” Leonard started to all out cry. Streams and streams of tears just fell off of his face, soaking his gray shirt. The figures which formed from the salty tears resembled what Leonard felt inside. Rose, who felt absolutely terrible for him, tried to consol him.

“I feel like such a baby. I have to finish the story, though. I’ve never told anyone this story before. No one knows about it, but you are different. I can tell you anything.” He was still crying but he managed to continue, “When I returned he was lying on the ground. His eyes were open but they only said one thing: that he was dead. Being so fucked up myself, I didn’t know what to do. My first thought was to kill myself. He had been there for me when I lived in the subway, I had nothing without him. I searched for the window and when I found it I tried my hardest to open it. The damn thing was stuck, but I was determined to open it. Fuck that thought, maybe he was till alive. I went over to his body, it was stiff. His pale, lifeless eyes stared back at me the same way they did when he was alive, but this time there was a glow about them. His arm looked like a brail scripture. Seeing his body lying there was a turn around for me. Had I not gone to the bathroom, I could have lied there with him, dead. Maybe that would have been better. I’ve never been able to get past that image of him on the ground, needle still in his arm, with a slimy mix of punk and spit dribbling down from his mouth.

It changed me. I had no family to look back on now, but I wasn’t going to end up like that. I could think of a million ways to die that would be better than that. I checked into the rehab…this time for real. I could bore you with the cliché ‘it was so life altering, I’m so glad I got clean’ bullshit, but I know you don’t want to hear that. The pathetic person you saw that night confessing his past to that group of people was really me. I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. If I could do this week over from the time we first met, I’d do it all over. I can forget my past”

After the final words rolled off his tongue, Leonard knew something was not right. He knew that Rose would feel uncomfortable being around him, knowing what she had put him through. If she left him, he though, at least they had a fun time together. Going back to his normal, routine was going to be rough at first, but after a while he would mold right back into it.

Chapter 8

A new Beginning

After the startling confession Rose was stunned. As the two of them lie in Leonard’s bed, the feeling in the air was not awkward, but rather, it seemed fitting. No new words needed to be said. Throughout the rest of the remaining time in which they lie awake, no words were communicated. Whether it was through body language or voice, they remained silent. It was not as if they felt strange or could not think of the words, but nothing more needed to be said. The silence spoke volumes about their relationship. After the drugs, after the brief euphoria, their relationship was strong, but it was no more than a friendship.

Rose felt hurt, but not because of what Leonard said, rather through her own actions. Leonard’s confession, whether or not she would like to admit it, was getting to her. The confession made her question her own existence. Was she a happy user or an addict? Maybe if she did not fiend for the drugs so much then Leonard would not have gotten back into the drugs. A week ago Leonard would spend a Friday night parking cars until it was time to go home. Now he spends nights neglecting his work and searching for a vein to shoot up. “What is next?” she thought. This was the most unusual relationship she had ever been in. Typically, Rose liked to hang out with a guy for a few weeks, then split, building no other relationship besides drugs and sex. It was not as if she was heartless or soulless, but that is just the way relationships went with her. The guys in the relationships would accept this. Actually, it was encouraged. Building relationships is not the thing addicts really like to do. Dope love only lasts through the high, but Leonard was different. He was not like the other junkies she dated. Leaving a man who she turned into an addict would kill her on the inside.

Surely, she could not longer stay with Leonard. Shooting up with him again after the talk would be impossible. She lay awake in the bed for almost three hours gazing into his sleeping face. In his sleep, Leonard looked much more peaceful than his nervous, conscious self. How could she leave him? He was the kindest, sweetest person she had ever met. With his confession, however, she had a new outlook on their whole relationship.

Glancing over at Leonard she said in a whisper, “Maybe if I leave you, you’ll get back. Back to normal; back to parking cars; back to the lonely nights. You’re a nice guy though; you won’t be lonely for long. You’ll be back to the way it was before drugs…before me.” She made a few movements at the door, hesitating more and more with each attempt. If she left the room, there was no way she could bring herself to come back. That notion was not something she was happy with, but she knew it would be for the best. As she walked for the door for the last time, she could feel the enormous weight being lifted off her back. Rose slowly stepped out the door, never to open it again.

Leonard was left in the bed, alone. Alone like the time Grey died right in front of his eyes; alone like the time his parents abandoned his drug problems and left him to fend for himself; alone like he always ended up; alone like we all end up. The bed was cold and lifeless, ala Ian Curtis. Leonard unconsciously tossed around in the bed. Through his sleep he could feel the emptiness around him; he felt lonesome. Instead of waking up, he decided to keep this dream. As sad and hopeless as a dream can be, it could never match real pain. When you wake from a dream, it is over. The idea of being in a bad dream seemed a lot more enticing to Leonard than being alone in reality.

In the dream, he envisioned himself swimming through the ocean, but there was something strange about it. Waves of water with no temperature, no color came crashing down on him fiercely. They did not hurt him, but rather they slapped him around. It was as if they were telling him listen. Swimming through the waves made him feel like a child on a family trip to the beach. In the waves, he could see reflections of his great childhood; the childhood that he took for granted. Those were the good old days: the days when his parents would tell him they loved him every night before he went to sleep. They would never send him off to dream land without a story out of the old story book his mother kept. His favorite moments would be when his mom left the story on a cliffhanger. He remembered how he would beg her to finish. Waiting for tomorrow night was too much for a child of nine. Now he would wait years to hear his mother’s soft, sweet voice telling the rest of a tale.

After passing the gleaming memories of childhood, the water reflected his teenage years. He saw a distant memory of his mother giving him a big kiss at middle school graduation. The memory soared back to him. He received a plaque for honors throughout the school and his mother was so proud. Those were the days: the days before drugs. He could still remember being allowed out of the house on a Saturday, no questions asked. A phone call conversation with his mom always ended in I love you, rather than the calls that ended with them fighting about Leonard getting help. The ocean swim was not over, it had just begun. While fighting off the waves, he saw what looked to be his old self. The man was on the subway, stealing from the passengers. Hopping off a train, he took an old lady’s purse. After the man left, Leonard could see the old lady. She looked like she had just lost her life. Her eyes were empty; they called for help, but nothing, no one, helped. Moving even further into the ocean he could see that same man puking into a trash can. It no longer looked like himself though. It was just a random man, but he knew that it was himself. He swam past the cemetery where he used to shoot up and saw this man again. This time he was crying over a grave: it was his grandmother’s. Swimming through all these memories was extremely painful, but there is no way it is as painful as the bed in which he lay.

Happiness would come however. The waves now were forming an excellent image. The image was that of Leonard and Melinda, together. Leonard remembered the instance: it was the face. Through the waves he could make out that horrid face that Melinda made at him. At the time, he felt as though the face was the worst thing on the planet, but now it seemed reassuring. Leonard had everything he ever wanted with Melinda. Things did not work out between them, however. Leonard blamed that face. One day it drove him over the edge and he had to leave it forever. Now he felt as though he wanted Melinda back; he wanted the face back. He felt grateful that Melinda ever cared enough for him enough to make a face as horrible as the one she made. It was not a face you make at someone who annoys you, but rather a caring face. Rose would shoot him an evil eye when she was annoyed with him, but those looks never carried any substance. No worthwhile substance ever came from Rose. For a minute in his dream, he thought of how he would tell Rose this, but even in his sleep, he knew she was gone. He knew he did not have to tell her anything.

Chapter 9

Lightning

The next day started out as a good one for Leonard. He woke up with a smile on his face, knowing he did not have to say anything to Rose. It never really sunk in however, that she was the one who left him. After taking a shower, he felt clean: clean of Rose, clean of drugs. He took out the needle from his drawer and threw it in the trash. Upon discovering that he had more heroin left over, he tossed it right out the window. If the junkies at the foot of his building knew what had just been thrown, they would have been all around it like a pack of wolves. Ready for a full, clean day, he put on his favorite dress cloths and prepared a trip to Queens where Melinda taught elementary school. Everything was planned: he would walk into the school and ask for Mrs. Melinda Bridge’ class. In front of the whole class he would confess his ever-growing love for her. The children would clap, he thought, and Melinda will have no other choice but to take him back. All these thoughts were racing around his mind as he entered the train feeling confident.

While on the train, he saw an old couple who must have been in their seventies. They sat together, smiling. They seemed happy, Leonard thought. Usually when you see an old couple, they have a bitter, disgruntled looks on their faces. These two, however, were as happy as any couple Leonard had ever seen. The sight of them really put a smile on his face. Just seeing the two elderly people being happy together satisfied him in some way. Surely, these people have had some hardships in life, like everyone does, but right now they are happy. In ten minutes they could both get killed by a maniac, but they will still have had this time together, right now. Leonard wanted to feel what they felt. He wanted to feel happiness and someone to share it with. Happiness, he thought, was too much for one person to have all to themselves; it needed to be shared. The way the elderly couple were happy together inspired Leonard.

Leonard could finally breathe when the train hit the Queens stop. He was rethinking what he would say to Melinda. Could he just walk into the class and confess his love still burned for her? What if she did not answer, or even worse, acknowledge him? He managed to push the thought of rejection into the back of his mind and focus on the immediate acceptance which he imagined.

The scene would be perfect, he thought as he pictured it in his mind. He would walk right into the class full of students. Melinda would stand in the front of the class teaching the students the day’s lessons. At first, Melinda would be skeptical about his visit. After confessing his love however, she will have no other choice than to take him back. Melinda would then fake an illness from school for the rest of the day and the two would catch up. While walking towards the building, Leonard kept repeating the scene over in his head.

The time was now, he thought while standing in front of the building. He entered the building and headed for the office. There was a typical secretary behind the desk answering calls. Everyone has seen these ladies; they’ve been around since the dawn of time. They sit behind their desk all day answering calls from angry parents, annoying colleges and the occasional bomb threat. All of them wear sweaters at least twice a week and they are all overweight. It’s not as if they are giant fat-asses or anything, just that they live in their cozy home and do not have time to remove themselves from in front of the television to take a walk every now and then. This one was no different, pretty much the epitome of a secretary.

“Excuse me. Can I have the room number where Melinda Bridges teaches class?” he nervously asked.

The secretary looked at Leonard strangely. Then in a low pitched, muffled, cigarette smoke infested voice she explained, “Mrs. Bridges does not work here anymore. Last Friday she hung up her chalk, so to speak.”

Leonard knew that the secretary was not lying to him, but for some reason he got angry at her. After giving her an evil look, he walked out of the building. Maybe, he thought, they could give him her address. He did not want to put this off anymore; he was ready to confess his love. He reentered the school and went back into the office. The secretary gave him another weird look.

“Can I help you again sir?” she asked in a snobby manner.

“I’m sorry, but is there any chance that you could possibly give me the address for Melinda Bridges?” Leonard said.

“I’m sorry too, because I really can not do that. All records of staff, both current and past, are off limits to the public”

“Listen Miss, I really need to talk to Melinda.”

“I really need you to leave mister. You are causing a commotion.”

“I apologize for getting loud, but I really need to talk to her. Could you at least tell me her phone-number?”

The secretary saw the look of sadness in Leonard’s eyes. After glancing around the room to see if fellow workers were watching, she tilted the computer towards Leonard. He could see the numbers on the screen and quickly copied them down and went on his way. After giving the lady a sincere thank you he eagerly left the building once more.

Things were good; he did not get to confess his aching love, but he was much closer. He thought about going all the way back to his apartment to make the call, but it was too far and he was too close. Melinda moved shortly after the two split up. Leonard knew it had to be in Queens. The woman lived there all her life; she did not like the hustle and bustle of the city.

Leonard searched for the closest pay phone and went running for it. Hello Melinda, it’s Leonard he practiced. He practiced it dozens of times, but it did not quite work. Each time he changed something and each time he hated what he had changed. Finally he got the nerve to dial the number which he wrote on his hand. A woman with the most beautiful voice answered the phone. He could tell immediately who the voice belong to.

Forgetting his rehearsal, Leonard blurted, “Melinda, it’s me.” Since the voice had so much apprehension in it, Melinda could not tell who it was.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“It’s Leonard. I hope you don’t mind me calling. It’s just that we haven’t talked in almost a year and I really feel like we should.”

“Leonard?” she said puzzled. “I don’t really think we should talk.”

“Really Melinda, we have to.” He thought about easing into the topic he called for, but he became too anxious to wait. “I made a huge mistake in letting you go. The truth is you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. You actually cared for me. I thought you didn’t, I was under-appreciative, but you really did mean everything you said about me. I didn’t want to do this in a pleading way, but recently my life has been so messed up right now. I need you back.” He was on the verge of tears, but overcame the urge to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Leonard never thought those words could be so hurtful. I’m sorry was supposed to cheer you up, not crush your soul. He felt like slamming the phone down as she said that, but he held onto the receiver as he held onto the hope that she would change her mind. “I have moved on from us. You said yourself, we were a great couple. When you left me I was confused. I thought we were working on something great. Then when you left I had no idea what my life was going to be like. I never want to feel that again. I’m not going to lie to you Leonard, you are amazing. I have been with other men since we split and none of them compared to you. You’re a great guy, Leonard, but you hurt me too much, who is to say you won’t do it again.”

That was all he needed to hear. He no longer felt the need to plead with her. It was over, there was no way he could come back from we what she said. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that she was right. Even in his mind, he could not lie and say he would treat her correctly. He was not sure if he would leave her again. After the conversation, Leonard felt the air sink from the tires. The day in which he planned to be the first day of the rest of his life now felt as though it would be the last day of his life. Thoughts of suicide tore through his mind, but if he were to ever kill himself, it would not be now; it would not be over this. In his life, most of the thoughts that entered his brain were about killing himself, but he always managed to fight them off. As he sat on the curb thinking about his horrible life he thought of something that would cheer him up; something that would make it all better. He knew just the thing.

Chapter 10

Say goodbye to sanity

The trip back to his apartment seemed to take forever. Leonard was very anxious to get back and when he finally made his way to his building, he practically ran his way up the stairs. After checking the garbage can and removing the needle, he needed a fix. Damn! He was all out of junk. Throwing the stuff out of the window seemed like the stupidest thing to him now. There was someone he met at Lisa’s he remembered. Leonard knew he could not call Rose. That phone call would be too awkward. For the first time in nearly ten years, he would have to find a connect himself. On the streets of New York, it is easy finding a connect, but it is not always safe; you really have to be careful. Junkies out there don’t give a damn about you; if you let on that you are holding money for drugs, you’re treated like a fresh piece of meat. Knowing all about how rough the streets can get, Leonard set out.

“You guys know anyone with junk?” he went up to junkie after junkie asking the same question. A lot of them, usually the more haggard looking ones, told him they had some. He could smell their bluff from a mile away. The last thing he was looking to do now was waste his money and not get high. The frustration was now apparent on his face; he wanted a fix. After about a half hour of hustling the streets, he met someone who he could trust that said they were carrying.

Leonard took a look at the junk. It was not the best stuff, but for now it would more than suffice. Since the price was a lot less than what Wayne charges, he was able to pick up a bunch. The walk back to his apartment felt like the beginning of the day again. The high does not reject the way love does. This thought kept him in a terrific mood as he walked to his apartment. All the high can do is accept you, embrace you. He entered his apartment and went straight for the trash can. The needle he had thrown out earlier had been contaminated with a yogurt he eaten for breakfast. He cleaned it off and took a good look at it: it was beautiful. “I’ll never throw you out again”

Looking for a vein, he noticed something strange. There was a hole in his left arm; right around the same spot his infection was years ago. He poked at the wound, but it hurt. Instead of going for the straight kill and using the hole, Leonard showed some restraint. It would have been unnecessary to use the hole, considering the plethora of veins in his right arm. After shooting one with some junk, he decided to use a different vein and then a different vein. Shot after shot filled through his body until it was an impossible task to move. He was not a human right now he thought; humans are not allowed to feel this good. As he took more shots into his arm, the pain disintegrated more and more. The terrible thoughts of rejection, of failure, all vanished.

Through the euphoria, thoughts came pouring into his mind, ala William S. Burroughs. These were happy thoughts though; thoughts of pleasure, of bliss. After letting all this emotion travel to the many corners of his body, his mind sent a signal to his brain. With heightened awareness of his body, he could feel the message being sent, word by word. He managed to copy the message down into a few couplets:

I met a girl more beautiful than you

When I’m with her, the sky is always blue

To tell you about her, I don’t know where to begin

She is my love, my heroin.

Just then he got the urge to call Melinda; he thought she should know how he felt. He did not need her to feel happy, she was no heroin. The poem he thought to himself would be the perfect opener. In his stupor, he managed to find the phone but he had forgotten the number. Reaching into his pockets never seemed like such an effort before. After shuffling around in his pocket for a while, he managed to finagle the crumpled up piece of paper out of his pants. When he finally found the phone he put the number in.

“Hello.” the voice on the other end said.

“I met a girl more beautiful than you,” he said, laughing. If not for the heroin he would have felt like a pathetic piece of shit. With the junk in his system, however, this call seemed fun.

“Come on Leonard, don’t do this. Don’t start.”

“When I’m with her, the sky is always blue…” he managed to get out. The feeling of joy became drowned out feelings of craziness. All the crazy thoughts he could think have started to fill his brain. He thought of going and hanging Melinda, or chopping off her fingers. Since when did the heroin make him feel this way? The stuff he got sucked, he decided. Still holding the receiver, Leonard went over and grabbed the needle again. He pierced the tip through the hole in his left arm.

“What’s going on Leonard? Why do you want to do this to me? What did I ever do to you that was so terrible?” her anger was evident.

“To tell you about her, I don’t know where to begin...”

“Please, stop it. You’re not acting yourself. What is wrong?”

“She is my love, my heroin” he jabbed the needle back into the hole in his left arm. He screamed in pain, but it was pleasure, not pain, in which he felt. He was being freed from the invisible grudge he was holding with himself.

“You’re using again Leonard? When did you start? I’m coming right over. Don’t leave…I’ll be over soon.”

Any other day, this news would have made Leonard content. Under the circumstances, however, this was not what he wanted to happen. After managing to finally get up from the fetal position he put himself in, he headed straight for the door. Before he left, he managed to grab his needle and the little bit of junk that remained. Pushing for the stairs, his legs gave out. He let out a moan that is usually heard in the animal kingdom. It was the sound a whale makes when it is swallowing a baby dolphin whole. Lying on the ground, Leonard could hear the sounds of his neighbor.

“Are you alright?” he could hear in the distance.

He got up and started to run for the light. Light shined all around him and he was determined to find the source of the power. A couple of leaps forward sent him crashing into a door. His vision was no longer that of a human. All that could be seen was light, endless light. Was this it?

“I’m going to end up like him! I’m going to end up like him!” Leonard screamed while running though the halls. All the neighbors were awaked with this commotion and entered the hall. A small child opened his door and laughed.

“Mommy, what is that crazy man doing?” the child laughed.

“It is not funny Lenny, there is something wrong with him.” The child’s mother scolded as she closed the door.

Another neighbor took hold of the phone and called the police. Not knowing what to do with the crazy man running though their hall, the neighbors all went back into their rooms. Leonard was still searching for the light. Finally he collapsed from running around. His heart began to pound out of his chest. The noise sounded like a jack hammer. All he could hear was the heart nearly punching in his chest. Thump! Crack! Thud! All of these different noises were being formed by the heart and chest. It sounded like a concert orchestra. Through the awful sound of the pounding, Leonard could hear a far off voice. The voice was like a melody to go along with the orchestra. Melinda, he knew would help him.

“Melinda?” he cried though the blurriness.

“Not quite,” a police officer responded.

“Melinda?” he asked again.

Spending the night at the hospital under constant police questioning was not how Leonard saw the day shaping up, but he knew it fit. This was the first chapter of the end of his life.

Chapter 11

You Flew Away

The next few months were a real struggle. A few run-ins with the law and lack of sufficient funds sent Leonard back out on the street. All the money he once had was spent, but the high was over. Over like it always became. No matter how much money he spent on heroin, it would never last; it would never keep him happy. With the money gone and the highs getting much closer to mediums, he was hoping to find another kind stranger that would take him in. This time, however, that stranger did not come. That stranger died almost ten years ago. A new stranger was formed, Leonard thought. He had become a stranger to his own self. I’m not even a rock star; it’s not even cool for me to be a drug addict, he thought to himself one lonely night out in the alley.

On busy nights, he had the best time. In some small, insignificant way he got pleasure out of watching the people going about their busy lives. He was one of them once, but now it all did not matter. Every once and a while, Leonard would observe a fight between a boyfriend and girlfriend or a mother screaming at a group of her children.

Being a homeless man on the street was a lot worse now than what he remembered. The days were much colder in the spring time and at night, temperatures dropped even lower. Faces passed by all day. He recognized people he used to work with, they refused to acknowledge his existence. It would be an embarrassing conversation, though, if they ever did decide to say anything, Leonard thought.

He would sometimes talk to the other junkies and hobos. Some of them were really nice. It was a really close knit community they had out on the streets. One would think it was a jungle for the homeless to live in, but as long as you were respected and you respected others, then your friends would have your back. He built friendships on the street that would last him a lifetime.

Friendships, however, did not keep him warm at night. They did not prevent him from puking his guts out on days when he could not scrounge up enough money for a fix. The days when he did have the money, however, seemed good. After months of this lifestyle, it became too much. Mostly everyday he thought about death. Where would he go when he died? What would he be remembered by. It hurt him to think about what people would say if they every saw his obituary. His parents would cry, surely, but they would just remember him as the son they never wanted; the son who was a drug addict. Melinda, what would she think? Probably she would think of how she could have saved him, but was too late. After the arrest, Leonard hit rock bottom. He no longer wanted to hear from Melinda, or anyone he used to know. No one else would even care to notice him on the newspaper page. He would just be another unread obituary.

One day in the late afternoon he saw a beautiful girl stroll along the sidewalk; it was Rose. He could not say anything, he was speechless. He had not seen her since the talk. Upon walking the street she tried not to notice his face, but once it entered her memory, it would never leave. She created that face; that sad, lonely face. She tried to pass by, but she could he the mumble of something. “Help” she heard. It was barley even said, but rather it was assumed. Looking at the pain in Leonard’s eyes almost made her cry. She created that monster, she knew, but what could she do know. For the past month, she had been determined to keep clean. “Help” Leonard said to her, quietly. She could not make out the exact sound, but it was defiantly a cry for help. Taking a step towards Leonard she began to open her mouth in order to find words to say to him. Only air was released from her half open mouth. Nothing could be said. Knowing the life story of a hobo on the street was not a pleasant thing. After a few more steps toward Leonard, Rose turned away. It was too much for her life right now. Besides, she was late for a drug counseling meeting. “Help,” she could hear in the distance as she walked away, but she never turned back. “Help,” the cry became much less distinctive, much more muffled. “Help.” It finally faded away to the wind.