It was snowing in my mind. The size of the little white dots would vacillate
with each bump on the road. I had the windows down and the radio cranked to
keep me from falling asleep. Before I left the room I had made a few capsules
filled with meth so I could eat them on the move and I swallowed one down with
a chug of cold coffee I had from who knows when. Ingesting meth would add on to
the visions but keep my body stirring.
I knew a girl in Chatfield and I had the thought that maybe she might know Driver because all tweakers in small towns seem to know each other. Her name was Crystal, all of their names are Crystal. We knew each other from working together at an old bar in the small town of Fountain a few years back. I knew right when I met her that she was a heavy drug user, and my instincts were spot on. I knew her only fifteen minutes before we were smoking a crack pipe in the bathroom. She had a weird habit of clicking her teeth repeatedly after a good hit. It reminded me of those wind-up chattering teeth with a face around it. But she was cool and she was a loyal customer, and I helped her transition from crack to meth which was a considerably less expensive habit. I selected her name from my contact list and tapped.
About a minute later I caught myself drifting off and cursed the man who made the lines so fucking straight on the road. I looked at my phone and understood why I didn’t hear any ringing; I hadn’t actually pressed a button. I hate smart phones. This time I clicked the green send button and stared at the screen until I knew the call had sent. It rang. Enthusiastically she answered, “Hey!” Too cheerful for my mood I thought. I replied, “Hey, Crystal. I have a question for you. Do you know a guy on Union street up toward the hill?” I knew the city well enough to describe the location in a way as to not give up an address quite yet. “Uhhh. Do you mean like us?” She was a paranoid person and would only ever allude to drug use over the phone. “Yes. Like us.” She continued, “Well I know a couple people over that way but they aren’t like us.” She then continued in a whisper as if that were somehow safer, “I mean they don’t get high.” I understood the first time. Fuck. I suppose there was a chance that Driver wasn’t a user, or that she just didn’t know him, and I didn’t want her asking anybody else anything so I cut off the line of questioning and proceeded with the usual conversation. “You want to meet up?” She screamed, “YES!”
I met her at a little gas station between Chatfield and Rochester, she didn’t bring up our other conversation so I assume she had already moved on. Perfect. It was a dead end but it was worth a shot I thought. Anyhow, an hour had passed and I was still awake. I had to get through day five. It always seemed easier to stay awake after you crossed a certain threshold, but this was always the worst. My muscles were on fire from being constantly tensed. My senses were all jumbled in a state of synesthesia, and my stomach was aching from two full days without so much as a drop of water or bite of food. Eating now would surely put me to sleep, I had to put that off for at least another day. There was one thing I could eat, another capsule. I did, and I could feel the burn of the meth when the thin dissolvable container burst open in my mouth. It made my teeth hurt and I winced in pain.
I drove around for another hour until the time came for me to call my guy. I had enough money in my pocket to make it worth a trip to his house. I looked like I had been in a fight with a dump truck, and he would be pissed that I hadn’t slept. But I had to keep things on a normal schedule or he would worry. You don’t want to make dangerous people worry.
I knew a girl in Chatfield and I had the thought that maybe she might know Driver because all tweakers in small towns seem to know each other. Her name was Crystal, all of their names are Crystal. We knew each other from working together at an old bar in the small town of Fountain a few years back. I knew right when I met her that she was a heavy drug user, and my instincts were spot on. I knew her only fifteen minutes before we were smoking a crack pipe in the bathroom. She had a weird habit of clicking her teeth repeatedly after a good hit. It reminded me of those wind-up chattering teeth with a face around it. But she was cool and she was a loyal customer, and I helped her transition from crack to meth which was a considerably less expensive habit. I selected her name from my contact list and tapped.
About a minute later I caught myself drifting off and cursed the man who made the lines so fucking straight on the road. I looked at my phone and understood why I didn’t hear any ringing; I hadn’t actually pressed a button. I hate smart phones. This time I clicked the green send button and stared at the screen until I knew the call had sent. It rang. Enthusiastically she answered, “Hey!” Too cheerful for my mood I thought. I replied, “Hey, Crystal. I have a question for you. Do you know a guy on Union street up toward the hill?” I knew the city well enough to describe the location in a way as to not give up an address quite yet. “Uhhh. Do you mean like us?” She was a paranoid person and would only ever allude to drug use over the phone. “Yes. Like us.” She continued, “Well I know a couple people over that way but they aren’t like us.” She then continued in a whisper as if that were somehow safer, “I mean they don’t get high.” I understood the first time. Fuck. I suppose there was a chance that Driver wasn’t a user, or that she just didn’t know him, and I didn’t want her asking anybody else anything so I cut off the line of questioning and proceeded with the usual conversation. “You want to meet up?” She screamed, “YES!”
I met her at a little gas station between Chatfield and Rochester, she didn’t bring up our other conversation so I assume she had already moved on. Perfect. It was a dead end but it was worth a shot I thought. Anyhow, an hour had passed and I was still awake. I had to get through day five. It always seemed easier to stay awake after you crossed a certain threshold, but this was always the worst. My muscles were on fire from being constantly tensed. My senses were all jumbled in a state of synesthesia, and my stomach was aching from two full days without so much as a drop of water or bite of food. Eating now would surely put me to sleep, I had to put that off for at least another day. There was one thing I could eat, another capsule. I did, and I could feel the burn of the meth when the thin dissolvable container burst open in my mouth. It made my teeth hurt and I winced in pain.
I drove around for another hour until the time came for me to call my guy. I had enough money in my pocket to make it worth a trip to his house. I looked like I had been in a fight with a dump truck, and he would be pissed that I hadn’t slept. But I had to keep things on a normal schedule or he would worry. You don’t want to make dangerous people worry.
Trying desperately to stay awake behind the wheel was often a losing battle, but I pushed on.
