I called Three-Hundred. It was three in the morning but Three-Hundred picked up and I said I was sorry about calling so late. He said it was okay because he was always awake and I could come through. Libby and Gilda wanted to come along. So we all drove over to Buckeye and met Three-Hundred on one of the side streets over that way. He got in the front seat and looked back and said, “Good evening, ladies.”
Three-Hundred invariably smelled like shit, and he was a fat fuck and he had breath like he ate shit for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
I said, “Three-Hundred, this is Libby and Gilda. Libby, Gilda, this is Three-Hundred.”
“Hi, Three-Hundred.”
“We really like the heroin.”
On the way back Libby asked me if Three-Hundred was his real name. I said it probably wasn’t.
Gilda said, “He smelled like a zoo!”
Ten minutes later we were out of heroin but we were all high as fuck and Gilda flipped an ashtray over on the rug and said, “Darn.”
I said, “Gilda, you’re a fucking bitch.”
Libby asked if we could call Three-Hundred again.
I said we didn’t have any money.
She said, “Can we maybe get some and pay him back later?”
I said I didn’t think he’d go for that. It was real late.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
December. Libby had been on me to go out to Chardon and meet her dad. I called her on the way because I got lost. I said, “I’m lost and I can’t see a fucking thing. It’s fucking dark out here.”
She stayed on the phone and talked me all the way there, step by step. The house wasn’t big.
“Okay. I’m here.”
“Ooo-wee! I’m so excited!”
Her dad was in the living room. He said his name was Mark. I said hello to Mark. He was tall and very thin, soft-spoken, depressed, effeminate. Another man and a woman were on the sofa. I wasn’t introduced so I just waved to them. They didn’t wave back. The man had a silver crew cut. He looked like a sheriff’s deputy. The woman looked like hell. Both of them were wearing turtlenecks. So was Mark. But what scared me the most was that they were all drinking pop.
Libby’s kid brother came running down the stairs. He was 16 and half-naked. He was wearing silk boxers and a Santa hat, a plastic necklace that lit up. He said, “Come here, big boy.”
He wrapped his arms around me and started dry-humping me really hard. He wouldn’t let go. He was stronger than I was. I got the impression that he did lots of sit-ups. He kept humping me. I didn’t know what to do. Then Libby took my hand.
“Come with me,” she said. “I want to show you this.”
She led me into a dining room, where there were stacks of old magazines on the table and on the floor, and against the wall was a china cabinet holding a number of framed photographs.
“This is my mom,” she said.
She picked up one of the photographs and kissed it and handed it to me. Libby looked like her mother. The same eyes. The same mouth. The same smile. I handed the photograph back to her.
“She’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“You look like her.”
“Thanks.”
She put the photograph back in its place. Then she showed me another: “That’s me with my older brothers.”
It was her and five guys with shaved heads. Any one of them looked like he could beat the fuck out of me.
* * *
— I HEARD there was a party some days later. I didn’t go. I hadn’t been invited but I wouldn’t have gone anyway. It was Ricky’s party. Roy went. I didn’t wonder at that.
Roy dropped by so he could meet this guy Pills And Coke at my apartment. It was a convenience thing since Pills And Coke was paying me rent to keep a safe in my kitchen. Roy was wearing a sweater with a reindeer on the front. He looked like a total asshole, and I was ashamed of him.
He said, “You’re just chilling by yourself?”
I said I was.
He said, “That’s cool. How’s things with you and Libby.”
“Fine.”
“That Libby’s a good girl.”
“Yeah.”
“I see why you like her so much. She’s got that whole painted-whore thing going for her….Say, man. You wouldn’t happen to have any clean rigs around here, would you?”
I said no, but I had some slightly used ones and some bleach. He considered it and said it would have to do. I went and cleaned out a couple rigs. Pills And Coke came up and Roy bought an 80mg Oxy off him. If you didn’t know any better you’d have thought Pills And Coke was Biff from Back to the Future, but he wasn’t; he was Pills And Coke and it was almost 2009 and Pills And Coke wasn’t old enough to have been in Back to the Future. I had decided that I had better get an 80 as well and I asked Pills And Coke to take it out of what he owed me in safe rent. He said I’d already run through all that. So I asked him to spot me one for a day or two. He said okay.
Pills And Coke left and Roy and I got to shooting our pills. Roy shot half his 80 and I shot the entirety of mine. Roy said, “I wish I could afford to shoot a whole eighty like that.”
I said, “Work hard and save your money and you just might.”
“Really?” he said. “So that’s how you do it?”
“Something like that.”
“Why aren’t you at the party?” he said. “Libby’s there.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Zo? was back.
I said, “Zo?, what are you doing here?”
“Holiday,” she said. “Visiting friends.”
“Zo?, you live in Barcelona. How long have you been in America?”
“A month.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“You don’t check your email.”
“Please come over.”
Zo? had called. She wanted to see me. And I was dying in a good way about getting to see her.
She was fucking gorgeous and so cool.
I’d fucked her before. Maybe I could fuck her again.
Maybe that would save me.
One thing though: when I’d fucked her before, I’d fucked her all wrong. I’d been trying to make a big deal out of how much it meant to me to fuck her and I’d fucked her pretty lame. I hadn’t understood that she wasn’t trying to think about what this or that meant and she wasn’t trying to be all sad about everything. Fucking the sad is like fucking the dead; it’s not something healthy people want to do. And I’d been on coke and I’d been emotional. That’s usually how I’d ruin things. And I think this is all very tragic.
Anyway. Zo? came over.
I said, “Zo?, I’m so glad you’re back.”
She said, “Yeah, it’s cool.”
Libby called. I didn’t take her call. She called again. I ignored it. Then Libby was downstairs trying to get in. Then she was yelling up at the window, yelling like the world’s most beautiful psycho.
Zo? said, “Is she your girlfriend?”
“No.”
“I feel bad for her. I think I should go.”
“Don’t go. She’ll give up. She’ll get tired of it. Just give it a minute. She fucks lots of people.”
“She must think I’m a witch.”
“It’s nothing. We’ll just ignore her. It’ll be fine.”
And I’d thought still it’d be alright but then I ran into some bad luck. I’d taken a barr and drank a Gato Negro. I knew better than to do some shit like this; I’d always been a lightweight when it came to the benzodiazepines. But I was broke and the barrs were the only drugs I had and Zo? had wanted to do drugs and I hadn’t wanted to disappoint her. And I don’t believe in giving anyone anything I wouldn’t take myself, so I took a barr; that’s why I blacked out.
Such was life. I didn’t understand it.
I came to on the floor.
And Zo? was gone.
Beautiful Zo?.
And there was Libby.
Beautiful Libby.
She kicked me in the side. “What is wrong with you?”
“Where did Zo? go?”
“She left.”
“You’ve ruined everything.”
“What did I ruin?”
“You don’t fucking care. Leave me alone. I’m goddamn fucking miserable.”
“Why are you so miserable? You always say you’re so miserable. What do you have to be miserable about? You’re a brat. Is your mother dead? You don’t even have to work.”
“What are you telling me about work for? You’ve never even had a job.”
“THAT’S NOT TRUE.”
“Babysitting doesn’t count.”
“SHUT UP.”
“Well it fucking doesn’t.”
“Why are you always so mean to me?”
“I’m not mean to you. Now please get the fuck out of here.”
“I love you.”
“You know that’s bullshit.”
She kicked me again.
I said, “Shit! How the fuck is this cool?”
“I’m sorry.”
She helped me up off the floor.
She took me to bed.
Try as I might, I couldn’t fuck.
I said, “Hey, Libby.”