Chapter Twelve: Prejudice and foolishness
Rascal’s face flushed when Tim complained about the last batch. He grit his teeth and was pissed off as a viper but Tim stood up and said, “Quality control is good for us both.”
Rascal agreed and Earl began telling me about his new truck but Rascal’s clothes kept distracting me. His orange and sky-blue T-shirt was giving me a headache as it tried to crawl off his bony shoulders. As the dealings went on, he flipped off his sunglasses and put on accountant glasses. He made a reference to his new “Trim”.
Tim made hefty purchases for four other people as well as himself, so it took awhile to acquire everything and haggle the prices, which surprisingly went in our favor.
All went well as drug deals go, but Rascal would not get up to shake my hand as we stood to leave. So I figured I’d better show respect and move to him to shake. As I leaned over the table, Earl rose but Rascal looked at him and he stopped.
“Good to meet you man,” I said.
“Likewise,” he replied and I looked at the space between the love seat and the wall. Hidden by the shadows were a folded wheelchair and a Russian assault riffle lodged in the space. A jagged chill ran through my body. We made our way to the car with Earl following and he told Tim time was running out on placing bets for the upcoming football games.
After hitting the road and pulling out onto the flatlands, Tim began tapping the steering wheel like a bongo.
“Everyone’s going to be psyched, got some good deals. Hey, you want to start early?” Tim said with a grin stolen from a gargoyle.
“I have work but I have a question. Why is Rascal paralyzed and what’s with the AK?”
“Uh that’s questions, plural and to answer both he was shot in a drive by. Earl must like you you. He didn’t introduce himself to me until the third time.”
“Uh no, he shook to show his piece. Fucked up,” I said.
Tim laughed and turned on the radio. It automatically went to a Country station and I let out “Yah hoo!”
Tim dropped me off. I went to my room, opened the shade, and tried to finish my work but my concentration flew about like a trapped wild finch. We met up with the other guys at the main entrance to trek across the campus for dinner.
Tim would smile and nod at me when I looked over.
I knew something was up and anxiety rolled around in my stomach like sharp stones. I was impatient and shot a look at him with my eyebrows slightly raised and waited. The grin on his face grew like hidden hands pushed his cheeks back and his teeth became visible.
We cut through the chain link length fence around Collin’s field above our dorm. I inquired about Tim’s expression. He spat and said, “It’s all good man and come to my room after eats and you’ll be smiling too.” His eyes reflected the cascading light of the afternoon and his forehead furrowed as he chuckled.
While waiting to have my card scanned by the Kaf gatekeeper, a retired women from town, James asked me questions about that day’s occurrences. I was in a talkative mood so I obliged him with a few oblique answers but then he asked, “Walk man, why is Tim so chipper? He hasn’t stopped smiling.”
“He got a good deal on something,” I answered.
I wasn’t lying. James wasn’t a big fan of the harder drugs.
The starting gun fired and the race to polish our plates began with a rare jaunt to the salad bar. It was Friday and pasta salad went fast. George won.
The crew lumbered back like sleepy dogs on the winding cement walkways full of starchy food. The college added something to the food and we knew it. It was either to make us fat and compliant or they enjoyed paying large plumbing bills. Without deviation, I went straight to Tim’s room. The door was open so I plopped myself down and kicked my feet up on a crate and said, “So, make me smile.”
He locked the door, turned to me shoulders first and said, “Open the drawer and you will see the nature of my reality.”
He covered his mouth with his hands. I opened it with a gentle even pull and three mounds of stacked baggies looked like mountains freshly covered with snow and a small baggie sat by the side. My heart skipped two beats and I felt a little dizzy. He slid his feet on the thin carpet as he came over.
“The bag on the left is yours, a thank you. The other product is for customers. I’m going on a delivery run and you’re coming. It will blow you mind. And if you would please remind me later, I have something to tell George,” he said and then nodded his head four times.
“Cool. Freaky enough day as is so what is a little more strangeness?” I said and crossed my arms.
He nodded his head twice as if a rubber band was holding his chin to the floor. I was going to be enlightened.
“A little more strangeness is always good. Speaking of good, bump?” he asked with a devious smile.
After tooting, he picked up three good sized bags that were in between two and two and a half grams each. They were separate elements; a Horse running in the Snow with a Crystal bridle. I was not familiar with heroin myself but it was a favorite of the country club kids in my town and never did much Meth as it was hard to get. I preferred snow and people in the suburbs love skiing. Didn’t expect this level of drug activity at this sheltered school, and I felt like I was back in Fairfield County.
Tim told me heroin was a secret seller because of purity allowed you to sniff it and that Meth was cheap because of the Nazi cook method. We each did another hefty line and waited for the surge. I tilted my head back so nothing would sift out by accident. The chemicals and mucus combined and dripped down the back of my throat.
“Joaquin, we gotta go over to Erin’s and drop off a package. Tonight is going to be warped man. Erin’s doing Meth for the first time. Buh-I-tha way, she is coming out with us so I can watch over her. Maybe Elyssa will come?” Tim said.
“Fine. So you know, I am not interested in her anymore,” I said.
“Sure.”
It was a quick walk to Erin’s dorm and there was no sight of Elyssa. We didn’t take the elevator because Tim said he get claustrophobic in them after a few bumps. Erin opened her door and started to clap her hands and said, “Oh, goody, goody, goody” then her face went sour and asked, “What took you guy’s so long?”
Tim rubbed circles on his forehead with his left hand, and said, “What are you saying women. I just talked to you.”
She put her tongue out and then asked, “How are you Joaquin?”
“Fine. Good. How are you?” I asked and my airy voice diffused in the background noise of her busy hall.
“I’m totally excited. By the way, Elyssa is coming,” she said while tapping her fingers together. I heard “Tee Hee” come from Tim and realized the Fates were against me.
Tim gave her the bags and plans were made. He had been hanging around with her a lot lately and I wondered maybe they were becoming a couple.
Erin asked Tim, “Are you guys going back to the dorm or?”
Tim turned towards me and said, “Yeah, we better get going. See you later. Joaquin let’s go.”
We were off to the stairs as quickly as we were there.
“You set me up. Dick!” I said as soon as we were out the front entrance.
“Yes. I figured you’d be happy to try your luck again even though you don’t stand a chance,” Tim said and stung my back with a slap.
“I am not going out tonight with you then, so it will not matter,” I replied. A wounded ego bled.
“Don’t be a punk ass,” Tim said. The king tortured his jester.
“Fuck it. So what is going to blow my mind?” I asked and waited as a leaden cloud covered the sun. Tim put his hand up and said, “Just wait and see.”
The first delivery was to a chubby guy off campus, I had seen trying to rollerblade the day before. I was not freaked out. We then went to the Three Girl’s House. I was not freaked out.
We strolled to the far end of the campus past the Reed library, past the Hoth writing lab, past the Carver Earth Science building
and onto a perfectly straight street lined with black Victorian street lamps. This was the restricted realm where many professors lived in quaint houses. Tim picked up the pace and spoke only to point out where certain professors lived like a tour guide.
“You’re bugged out, aren’t you?” Tim asked.
He nodded forward and waved me on. We come to a clapboard colonial style house with a screened in porch and beat up blue sedan in the driveway. Neatly trimmed bushes lined the yard. Tim skipped up the cobble stone walkway to the slate stoop and I put my hands in my jean pockets. Through the windows I saw a table layered with books.
The fabric of reality began to fray.
“Knock, I dare you,” Tim said with a sneer of twisted pleasure.
I took the three stone stairs, turned to look at Tim and he did that weird upside down wave like a grandma shooing a dog a way. So, I knocked with four stern and steady raps. Two taps on the shoulder got my attention and there’s Tim right behind me. He pushed me to the side next to the black mailbox. The door creaked as it opened and it was a tall white guy with sandals, white shorts, a grass stained T-shirt and a faded Yankees cap.
The man was my history professor Dr. Campbell, a tweed wearer, peering at me with a conveyor belt stare in his eyes and was known to frequent college parties.
“Hello Tim. Oh, and hello Joaquin, are you here to drop off work?” he asked as his eyes shifted while scanning the neighborhood for witnesses.
“No,” I said.
“Howdy Prof. We come bearing gifts. I didn’t know you had this punk in your class,” Tim said and pushed his way inside.
The professor’s face sunk. Mine rose. It was like getting into a car accident and realizing it was the guy in the Rolls Royce’s fault. The professor let out a sputtering sigh and held the door open for me. The negotiations already began.
Tim went on ahead and sat down on a spindle chair, as if he owned the place, in a room at the back near the kitchen. The professor led me through the house strewn with books. The tar black hardwood floors were bowed.
The professor sat down at the mission style table Tim had his elbows on and motioned for me to sit. He then asked Tim, “Why did you bring one of my current students to the house?”
Tim placed the bags on the table, raised his head and looked the professor straight in the eyes and said, “What are you saying? Oh I get it. That’s not nice. You think I did it intentionally? Fore shame.”
“Oh well, what’s done is done. As Voltaire said ‘We are full of weakness and errors; let us mutually pardon each other our follies-it is the first law of nature’,” Professor Campbell said.
“Pardon me,” Tim said.
There was a short session and the professor was quite generous with his blow. When we got to the road that bordered the campus, I noticed the leaves on the oaks and elms were beginning to change. I felt like jumping beans were inside my skull and I could not hold back anymore.
“That was fucked up. Can you say A? How did you ever end up hooking him up anyway?” I asked and twitched.
“Did I deliver on my promise or what?” Tim asked.
“Fuck yes,” I responded.
“To answer your question, I saw him in the beginning of last year when I was introduced to Rascal. A few weeks later I saw him on campus and found out he was a professor, so I approached him and started to chat. Then I became Rascal’s middleman due to a clerical error so to speak and the rest is drug mythology.”
The sun was going down over the back of our dorm and brushstrokes of pink, lavender and orange light framed the distance as swirls of gray filled the in between spaces. Night was descending like oil paint running down the canvas of autumn.