{"id":15404,"date":"2019-07-08T05:00:21","date_gmt":"2019-07-08T09:00:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/bullmensfiction.com\/?p=15404"},"modified":"2022-08-03T13:13:03","modified_gmt":"2022-08-03T17:13:03","slug":"smile","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/fiction\/smile\/","title":{"rendered":"Smile"},"content":{"rendered":"

My poor dog. My poor, poor dog. He\u2019s whimpering. He knows. My mother wouldn\u2019t believe it if she was sitting across from me, on that ugly white sectional that came with the apartment.\u00a0<\/span>The carpet is dirty and white too. When white\u2019s dirty it\u2019s almost blue. Blue-grey. Like a lifeless body blueish grey. There\u2019s no crayon or magic marker that\u2019s that color. Crayola. My fingers are stained blue\u2014not the dirty white kind of blue\u2014but a real blue, inky\u2026 it\u2019s a permanent mark on my skin from the kids I watch. I should go to work on Monday.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll go to work on Monday. Linda, the lady whose kids I watch, is so nice. She has a babysitter for no reason. So, I cancel and she\u2019s like, \u201cOh, ok, honey.\u201d I don\u2019t think she\u2019s ever gotten high. Some people just don\u2019t need to do it. I\u2019ve only stolen from her once and I felt so bad about it. Sometimes I don\u2019t go to work just so I won\u2019t steal from her. That was awhile ago\u2014a year?\u2014when she first hired me. In May, during my last big run, I had this string of misses. One real bad one. Little bumpy abscess. Ya, know? Linda saw me picking at it and I told her it was a splinter from the post on the swing set that the kids were playing on.\u00a0 She says, \u201cPoor thing, let\u2019s have a look\u201d then spends fifteen minutes looking for something that didn\u2019t exist.<\/span>\u00a0I was dying, because I was dopesick and she was digging at it with a sewing needle. A needle in a haystack or actually: looking with a needle in a bump made by a needle. She sterilized it with my lighter. She looked at her kids and nervously said, \u201cI didn\u2019t know you smoked.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m trying to quit. I don\u2019t smoke around them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, ok, honey. That\u2019s good. You\u2019re too pretty to smoke.\u201d<\/p>\n

She resumed the excavation of the phantom splinter, and I remembered that I am pretty.<\/p>\n

The only reason I went to work that day was to go get money to get it in. Dope\u2019s stupid. I don\u2019t even like it. Just tried it and poof! All of a sudden: need that too. Maintenance. I really don\u2019t even like it. I love crack though. I can\u2019t stop with that stuff. Anyway, Linda found nothing\u2014obviously, but she insisted on a bandaid. Spongebob. Cool. I just can\u2019t steal from someone who gives me Spongebob Band-Aids. I don\u2019t want<\/em> to steal from someone who gives me Spongebob Band-Aids.<\/p>\n

The sofa\u2019s so, so, so dirty. Everywhere is dirty. My teeth need to be flossed. I have the best smile of any crackhead probably in the universe. Jimmy has a sort of teeth fetish. So, I do the vinegar thing. I shoot crack. I\u2019m one of \u201cthose people\u201d who \u201cwastes it.\u201d Don\u2019t bother. Don\u2019t tell me that I should just buy coke\u2014shoot an eight ball. I know what I want and what I\u2019m doing. I\u2019ll never let it wreck my gums. The bowstring of floss, that cat\u2019s cradle tension, digs into the side of my cheeks giving me a wide grin. Why so serious?! I work through the canines and molars and draw blood. Drawing blood. I once drew with blood on the wall of a bathroom. Blood is also a bit of nameless, impossible color. \u201cBlood red\u201d never looks like actual blood. There\u2019s so many shades of blood. Are the types different too? Like color-wise? What\u2019s my blood type? Shouldn\u2019t I know my blood type? There should be a tattoo on my wrist for that. Nut allergy. Type O. <\/em>Best just go with \u201cO.\u201d Universal donor, right?<\/p>\n

My dog\u2019s still dirty and hungry. My poor fucking dog. He\u2019s looking at me and I can\u2019t make eye contact. I can just feel it and I can hear him. Quivering. Shaking. His little tail. I can hear it not moving. It\u2019s starting to freak me out. It\u2019s making the spoon shake. I\u2019m good with a needle. I look at the rock dissolve more and more and I\u2019m in love. I\u2019m so, so, so good at this. I\u2019m so, so in love with this.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s wearing off. It wears off and I need more. I cue up the next one before it\u2019s even in. I miss a lot because I\u2019m such a nut-job, and believe me it burns like a mother-fu\u2014(I\u2019m trying to stop cursing. I don\u2019t want to keep slipping around those kids. My parents never talked like I do.) So, even though it really \u201cstings,\u201d I do it to go even faster. I can\u2019t go fast enough. Again. Up. In.<\/p>\n

The dog. I can still feel his eyes. He has eyebrows. Little wisps. Isn\u2019t it cray that Chihuahuas have eyebrows? They do. At least, mine does. It\u2019s cray. I can\u2019t look at him right now. More.<\/p>\n

Spoon isn\u2019t shaking. We\u2019re bakin\u2019. We\u2019re rocking. Screw Jimmy. It\u2019s only good getting high with him sometimes. Other times, he ruins it. He can\u2019t totally ruin it, but he makes me<\/em> ruin it for myself. Somehow, he does that. But, this is good shit right now. Goood Goood shit. It\u2019s gotta go in my toes. I play with them along the way. Feet are funny all the time. Not just now. I won\u2019t do the space between the big guy and the\u2014the. I don\u2019t know what you call his neighbor. The big guy\u2019s neighbor? If I split the difference, I won\u2019t be able to get him food. Even if I hit the vein, my foot is going to need an hour? At least fifteen minutes. Can he wait? He can\u2019t even bark. I can\u2019t look at him. I can\u2019t shoot between my big toe and whatever the one next to it is called. I won\u2019t be able to walk in my flip flops and I can\u2019t find any of my other shoes.<\/p>\n

I missed. I went for the space between the pinkie toe and whatever the one next to it is called. I missed. I wasted good shit and if I don\u2019t get it in right now this won\u2019t be good enough. I have to go out with a bang. I can\u2019t quit after a bad run. Day three and I\u2019m on a roll. I\u2019ll just do the left spot between the big guy and his neighbor. I can wear one flip flop and make it to Publix, aisle whatever, for something.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s in, so I\u2019m out. I\u2019m getting this food. I am not \u201cnot looking\u201d at my dog anymore. I need to be able to sleep eventually and I can\u2019t sleep with him breathing like he\u2019s about to die. I\u2019ve come down before and self-detoxed. It\u2019s no fun. I need peace and quiet for that. It will be easier this time; I have a few subs left. My left foot is on fucking fire. I should have went into the bedroom and got Jimmy\u2019s Jordan sandals. The slides without the toe thing. What the hell is that<\/em> called? What the hell is the neighbor of the big toe called? Pointer-finger. Pointer toe? I\u2019m taking this flip flop off. The pavement is on fire. Florida is on fire. I\u2019m on fire. I\u2019m putting it back on. I love my puppy. I love my puppy.<\/p>\n

Cold, cold Publix. Now I\u2019m freezing. Where have they hidden the chow for chows? My foot still hurts, which means what I shot is not going to be enough for tonight. It means I need to make a pit-stop on the way home. I get the bag of food. Whatchu got in that bag? Why don\u2019t they sell crack at Publix? Wouldn\u2019t that be the shizzles? I don\u2019t even think about buying human food. Eating is something I rarely do when I\u2019m hammin\u2019 on crack. Ham. Bologna. I can\u2019t spell that word. I find my doggy food and I check out. The guy looks at me weird. The bill I handed him is a little scorched. No need to get rude. No need to judge, mister. I walk out and grin at the security mirror. I need to brush my teeth.<\/p>\n

Jimmy is probably at the apartment I\u2019m going to. I feel like my feet are getting slapped walking up these concrete steps. Fourth floor. Two units over. The yellow one. Door 403. Four-oh-three. I reach the second landing and my foot is screaming so I drop the food. Luckily the bag doesn\u2019t split but the squat lift really makes my toes hurt. Ya know how some leaves back home have veins? They bulge. I can feel my foot-veins bulge. My feet are big green tunnel-ridden leaves. I knock. I knock again. Where the hell\u2014oh hey!<\/em> \u201cOh hey!\u201d Is my way of being cool. They\u2019ll never know how much my toe hurts. They\u2019ll give me a fair break and quickly. I\u2019m in no mood to negotiate.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy you limping?\u201d says Rico, my dealer, from the clean<\/em> brown couch in the corner. He\u2019s a black guy with beautiful teeth. Clorox grin. Jimmy thinks I fuck him more often than I do.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not.\u201d I kick my flip flops off and have the closest thing I can have to an orgasm: the relief and excitement of getting more crack.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, ok. You need something?\u201d He squints his eyes and his forehead creases. He wants me to give him head today. That\u2019s what I see in his forehead. I\u2019m ok with that. Anything to get me off my feet.<\/p>\n

I use the bathroom after. No time to shower. No time to wash my hands. My dog is waiting. Rico\u2019s moved into the living room. I sit down just for a second. He pulls my head into his stomach. I can feel his sweat through his t-shirt. He has nice abs. If I was able to feel things, maybe I\u2019d feel something.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know I like you.\u201d That\u2019s Rico\u2019s way of saying he\u2019d be ok with me living with him.<\/p>\n

I look at Trisha shoot up in the corner. She\u2019s wearing a ripped t-shirt and purple underwear. Her hair\u2019s a mess and the mascara she\u2019s wearing is so thick that it looks like beetles are resting on her eyelids. She blasts off and leans her head into the screen door that leads to the balcony, then she closes her eyes and lands back on the floor. She collapses into a smile, but her brow is tense. She already needs more. Rico sees me looking at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt wouldn\u2019t be like that. I wouldn\u2019t make you go out. You\u2019d be mine and that\u2019s all you\u2019d do. Me and your maintenance.” He laughs, because he can remember me telling him this. I can\u2019t remember telling him this. “You can go work with those kids and come back here.” He holds me by the shoulders and smiles. His teeth are so white that I could cry. Instead, I go back to Jimmy\u2019s place to floss.<\/p>\n

I walk in and can tell that Jimmy\u2019s home. I can tell by the way my fear shifts around. I can feel my high float and bounce off the walls. I\u2019ll catch it again. I finger the rock and the bundle in my pocket and put down the dog food. I hear him open the door and the loud slam, then he\u2019s in front of me, in my face and then I hit the floor. My cheek is stinging. Hot against our dirty white scratching carpet.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me see. Let me see your mouth,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n

I roll on my back and open my mouth. He drags me by my ankles toward him and then sits on my chest. I bite my tongue, because he sits all the way down. He talks to me with his body. He tells me he\u2019s mad and that I\u2019m shit with his body. He starts to choke me and looks in. The hand that isn\u2019t on my neck is in my mouth. Two fingers separate my cheeks and I feel his nails. He feels the top row with a finger sliding it over my teeth like the legs of a chair being dragged across a tiled kitchen floor. He presses my tongue down hard with his thumb. I start to gag and my eyes begin leaking; it always happens around this point and it means he\u2019ll stop soon. It takes him a full minute to make sure I did a good job today. He takes his fingers out of my mouth and puts them on my chin, swivels my head from side to side like a doll, and tells me to move my tongue back and forth. He tells me I\u2019m dirty.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK. They\u2019re better than yesterday. Get up and wash him <\/em>out. Go get his juice out of your mouth\u2014for fuck\u2019s sake. GO!\u201d<\/p>\n

He leans back and let\u2019s me go, then kicks at air behind me, as I crawl to the bathroom. Big mirrors aren\u2019t allowed. I don\u2019t even know where he put them or when that happened. He gave me a makeup mirror, something cheap like RiteAid brand blush. He doesn\u2019t want me to wear makeup. He says it makes me look like a whore. \u201cUse this to check them. You can look nice if your teeth are clean. I like when your teeth are clean.\u201d<\/p>\n

I take my mirror out and wipe off some powder that might be blush residue or might be drugs. I floss first, then brush, then gargle. He comes in behind me. He never leaves me alone. He loves me that way. Jimmy\u2019s like a blanket of arms and fingers. It doesn\u2019t feel right to just look at him. He has to touch me and then it\u2019s all real and good. He rubs my back, puts his head on my shoulder. If there was a mirror, we\u2019d look up and smile at each other through it like some sort of married couple or something. He\u2019s different and gentle now. Touching me like this. Putting his hands on me like he\u2019s addicted to the way my skin is smooth. He tells me how good my teeth are when they\u2019re taken care of and when he really loves me, when we\u2019re in bed, he tells me how soft I am. How no one is as smooth as his baby. That\u2019s me. I\u2019m his baby. I think it\u2019s the dope. Girls that do dope glow. I guess it\u2019s not the worst drug to do.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much he give you this time?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEnough.\u201d<\/p>\n

He kisses my neck and pushes my hair back. His tongue hits my pores and I feel a bolt through my veins like I can\u2019t describe. I can\u2019t wait to get high with him.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe. Maybe if you promise to be nice.\u201d<\/p>\n

He bites my neck, the part right below the back of my head. He hates to see bite marks. Jimmy only bites me where no one can see. It\u2019s another one of his things.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me feed Henry first,\u201d I say, knowing that he wants to shoot up now. To go to the bedroom and do what we do.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. Baby. I\u2019m real sick.\u201d<\/p>\n

I give in like always. We fly together and it\u2019s great. It\u2019s what I want. He holds my hand and I get curious for a second about who he is. From Cleveland. He\u2019s from Cleveland and Cleveland\u2019s cold. OK. That\u2019s who he is. We do the dope on the bed kind of close, then we roll over back to back and do our favorites. I shoot my crack next and he does the steroid thing. The ones that make us up. Sometimes horny. Sometime \u201ccrazy\u201d horny. We did that dumb dope together. First time was in a red car in the parking lot of Home Depot<\/em> at like three in the morning. Blood red. The car was sort of close to blood red. We used this big needle. The kind he uses to get the steroids in past the muscles or whatever. Scared me. I liked it but I didn\u2019t. I think I only liked it because I did it with him. Maybe it\u2019s why I don\u2019t think dope\u2019s something to go ham on.<\/p>\n

My crack is in. I used a vein in my hand. I can shoot lefty and righty. I used to draw. Sometimes I color with the kids. Those markers. This ink on my hands. I have skills on an Etch-a-sketch too. Like I really can do a lot with one of those. I told Jimmy that and he laughed. I tried to show him and he told me, \u201cI don\u2019t fucking care, where\u2019s the shit?\u201d I think Rico might have cared. He might have looked and said, \u201cThat\u2019s nice.\u201d Rico is too good for me. My Etch-a-sketch is gone though. It got burned from a pipe and I threw it away so Jimmy wouldn\u2019t find out. I rarely smoke, because it\u2019s really bad for your teeth. But, I really don\u2019t like Jimmy\u2019s big needles. So, if I\u2019m out of mine and can\u2019t wait, I don\u2019t share unless he\u2019s right there staring at me. I sometimes ask him to do it for me. That\u2019s how much of a wuss I am.<\/p>\n

I climb out of bed and Jimmy gets up too. Even when he\u2019s high he doesn\u2019t trust me. He doesn\u2019t know how bad I need him. I want to feed my doggy. I want him to not die. I go take a drink of water from the sink first. Rinse it out. I can\u2019t brush and floss just yet. I feel my gums through my cheeks. I think my mouth must look like a pumpkin carved out. The inside with strings of pink skin the color of a grape fruit. I puff my cheeks back and forth. It feels cool. Soft. Hard. Soft. Hard. Fun.<\/p>\n

I hear Jimmy flush the toilet and then he starts laughing in the hallway. His laugh is mean, \u201cYou got cat food.\u201d I look at the bag. I look at my dog and his fur that\u2019s so dirty. I want to cry. I want Jimmy to make me cry. I look at Jimmy and he gives me this face: this get-over-here face. I walk back to him, defeated like I\u2019m supposed to feel, to let him scare me into forgetting that I\u2019m alive. Jimmy\u2019s great at that. He\u2019s the best.<\/p>\n

My father showed up the next morning. I don\u2019t know how he found me this time. This time was the seventeenth. I\u2019ve been to rehab ten times\u2014well, I\u2019m being dramatic. Ten including detox, but six if you just count inpatient. Only finished one time. I don\u2019t know where Jimmy went, but he wasn\u2019t there when I woke up, just my dad. Outside. Pounding on the front door. It was unlocked. I don\u2019t think he\u2019d have opened it even if he had checked the handle. He can\u2019t stand how bad it\u2019s gotten. I think he thinks it\u2019s his fault.<\/p>\n

I asked my father if he ever smoked pot. This was before I tried anything. He said, \u201cI\u2019m going to be honest with you, I did. It was a waste of time though.\u201d I wish I could explain to him that I partied all on my own. One boyfriend led to the next and we go on and on until I\u2019m the girl with the needle in her arm. That\u2019s how it always ends. The last time I went to rehab was at place called Whitefalls; I left on my eleventh day with a guy named Tim, who introduced me to Jimmy a week later. Whitefalls. In my opinion, shit was a joke. I just hope that\u2019s not where dad\u2019s taking me this time. My guess is no, because we\u2019re at the Orlando airport. Headed to\u2026 Philadelphia. Oh great, I guess I\u2019ll freeze to death instead of die of an overdose. They\u2019ve got great shit in Philly. I\u2019ve heard that. I know <\/em>that. They\u2019ve got great shit everywhere if you\u2019re me and know where to look.<\/p>\n

Dad had maybe said four sentences to me the entire trip. Two of them were, \u201cWhere you going?\u201d Both times was to the bathroom. What I wanted to do was exactly what he thought I was going to do: run. The first time I went to the bathroom that was right in front of him. He ate lunch at Chick-fil-A in the main terminal. I couldn\u2019t swallow or eat anything. I was getting sick. I had three subs in my pocket. I went to the bathroom and took one. I knew I\u2019d need it just to get me through the flight. I had to.<\/p>\n

The next time I went to the bathroom was after we went through security. I was flipping out on the inside. Not sick because the sub kicked in enough. But I knew it was going to all start to slow down and hit me. A big ton of bricks. The fucking guilt. You only feel shame when you\u2019re high, but you mix in guilt when you\u2019re sober. I did want to run. I looked in the mirror of the bathroom. The one four gates closer towards the exit. I could get on a hotel shuttle bus. There are a million of those at this airport. Maybe even the Disney Express. Hooray for Mickey. This wasn\u2019t funny or fun though. My dad. I can\u2019t do it to him again. Not while he\u2019s watching.<\/p>\n

The mirror. It\u2019d been awhile. A real mirror and my face. My skin. I had eyes. I blink. I wish I was dead. I can\u2019t stand myself. I can\u2019t stand this. I went back into the stall. I needed to take my clothes off for a second, because I was suffocating. The floor was cold and filthy, but I couldn\u2019t breathe. I was breathing just enough to be alive\u2014which thoroughly sucked.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know where it came from. It snuck under the stall door and underneath my eyelids. A projected image, a lit-up neon sign that flashed, \u201cDon\u2019t.\u201d I exhaled. It felt like all I had been doing was sucking in air. I stood up and put my clothes back on. Damp. I walked out and my dad was leaning against the wall opposite the women\u2019s room. He looked tired. He looked so beat. But, he was there, so I followed him. I asked him about the dog and he looked surprised. I know he was wondering why I cared about anything but myself. That was my adjective ever since I got into this, \u201cselfish.\u201d Couldn\u2019t be more true. He said, \u201cI didn\u2019t see any dog.\u201d<\/p>\n

When we land, Mom\u2019s not there. \u201cShe\u2019s not coming this time. We\u2019re doing this different.\u201d My mom alternated between being mean and being hysterical about me. A thunderbolt of emotion. Everything I can\u2019t feel she seems to absorb. The place was called \u201cCloverfield Lodge.\u201d I know enough that \u201clodge\u201d in the name meant no guarantee on the length of stay. It also meant lock-down. I always felt the same at In-take. Pissed. Like a caged animal cornered in the shavings looking across the cage at the water bottle wondering which was better: escaping or going back for another hit. I didn\u2019t lie about what I was on. This was a first. I know that eventually they get you off everything. Why delay those two days of hell? I deserve it all. I shared a room with a Xanax girl. Poor bitch. I never messed with benzos. I was in rehab for coke my first time and I saw that detox. Not for me.<\/p>\n

I sat in on lecture my first day\u2014also a first. Most girls my age come in and ride out that they can be down for a few days. They shuffle back and forth between the dining room and the detox nurses. Complain. They carry on dramatically if they feel inclined. I just went to lecture. I cooperated\u2014also a first.<\/p>\n

The speaker was a man\u2014not a first. I sat in the front\u2014you guessed it: a first. This guy was likeable. He had his hair and everything except his teeth hid his history. He could have used a Jimmy in his life. He said getting sober is a process. He didn\u2019t talk about some fairy dust moment. I admit it. I\u2019ve been waiting for that type of thing. Some illuminating burst of courage to transform a coward. But, \u201ca process.\u201d How disappointing for me. He said how we got to the level of messed up was a \u201cprocess.\u201d So how is the fix going to be any different? He made a joke. He said that humor helps. And yeah, he said it is the program that guides you there. Those are the rules to follow. But, it\u2019s going to take awhile before those rules are reminders instead of punishments. This wasn\u2019t my fairy dust moment. I already told you that that doesn\u2019t happen. But it was my first day. Today\u2019s a year. Wish me luck.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Why don\u2019t they sell crack at Publix?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":15500,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15404","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","writer-kate-scarpetta"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15404","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15404"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15404\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15508,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15404\/revisions\/15508"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/15500"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15404"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15404"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15404"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}