Nightfall was upon the town of Rochester. The overcast sky
cast ominous shadows on the tall buildings of downtown. I was driving down
Broadway Avenue with my head out the window trying to keep it together. I had
left everything back at the hotel and I had the thought that I may never get
back to retrieve it. This night was going to the last for three depraved souls.
Maybe more.
I had only an hour to kill before I was to meet Driver at the
predetermined spot in the Walmart parking lot and I wished I had the desire to
eat food. The only real urge I ever had those days was to get high. I did bring
three more capsules and a small package I would need for a payment with me. I would take all three capsules right before showtime, to take the edge off.
Over and over again in my head I replayed the things I would
say and do. Unfortunately, every time it changed, whether in the order or the
words, it was never the same. In my fantasy, I left the three dead amigos in
the car while I walked away with the briefcase full of money and the girl and
the car exploded and even though I was still kind of close to the explosion, I
wasn’t injured by shrapnel or flame. And as I walked away I would say something
cool and trendy like, “Suck an egg!” But in real life, there wasn’t even a girl
in the story, and I’m almost positive I couldn’t make a bomb or get it to
explode on time. But it killed time, and that’s all I was trying to do.
I had to make a quick stop at a tweaker house to visit a
chick I knew that would be able to help me out with one small problem. I
offered her a quarter gram to put makeup on my face as to not attract as much
attention. Of course, as with all tweaker projects, it could go really well or
horribly wrong. I arrived at the house and knocked at the door and was greeted
by Erika Haugerud, a street prostitute and self-proclaimed makeup artist. She
gestured me inside and I took a seat on a couch next to her husband Jeremy who
was passed out in a recliner with his mouth agape. He was covered and
surrounded by cheese puffs and I cocked my head inquisitively and turned to
look at Erika. “Well, his mouth is open and he’s been sleeping all day and I
got bored.” It made sense. She looked at my face and went into another room to
grab her supplies and came back and sat down next to me. Ladies, I don’t know
how you do it, but I sat there for almost half an hour getting “made-up.” It
was a horrible feeling having that crap on my face, but she was good. I looked
in the mirror and for the first time since my teens, I looked healthy. There was
no time to reminisce now so I paid her and left for good.
It didn’t take long before I was at the Walmart on the south
end of town. I had done more drug deals in this parking lot that anywhere and I
was familiar with the layout, and more importantly, where all of the cameras
were. I drove all the way through and parked against the large East wall and I
waited. And I waited. I started feeling a little anxious and I realized it was
because there was supposed to be a timeline for all of the events about to
transpire. I settled myself down knowing that none of it was real. Well, some
of it was real, but only I knew which parts.
I saw a guy that looked like he was about to shit his pants
pull in next to me. I had parked backwards so we were face to face, and our
windows were down. It was Driver, and he looked scared for the first time. I
liked that.
“So, everything lined up?” He asked with a quivering voice.
“It is what it is, and everything is going to happen the way
it unfolds. I’m not doing this willingly, and I didn’t exactly have a lot of
time to plan things out.”
He nodded, then looked closer. “you look… good.”
“Fuck you.”
