by NM Facile
Central Avenue Publishing Edition
Copyright © 2012 NM Facile
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This Central Avenue Publishing edition is published by arrangement with NM Facile.
www.centralavenuepublishing.com
First digital edition published by Central Avenue Publishing,
an imprint of Central Avenue Marketing Ltd.
CURE FOR PAIN
ISBN 978-1-926760-88-9
Published in Canada with international distribution.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Michelle Halket
Cover Photography: Courtesy © CanStockPhoto: umbertoleporini
For my mom, Mary Jean.
Her warmth and love know no bounds.
This was her idea; I merely gave it words.
Cure for Pain
Prologue - Angel
Ty Jaden had better shit to be doing than freezing his balls off, waiting for one of his regulars to get his works. Yet, he stood down the street a couple of blocks away, watching for the old man to return. Had he known it was going to take this long, he probably would have told him to forget it, but he couldn’t do that to Art. He had been a regular for as long as Ty could remember, and he knew the old guy needed a fix to get through the cold night.
I swear, when I get out of here I’m going somewhere warm. Someplace where below zero wind-chill isn’t in the daily weather report. Ty pulled his hands up into the sleeves of his coat. He wished he had thought to grab some gloves before he left home. His old, worn, black leather jacket didn’t do much to keep him warm even with his black hoodie underneath. The bitter chill nipped at his cheeks and stung the exposed flesh. It felt more like January than March. Ty flipped up the collar on his jacket and dropped his chin, crossing his arms across his chest and trying not to shiver.
Ty kicked at a little pile of gray ice that was once pristine white snow. Just like everything else in the city, it ended up dirty and ugly. In his world there was no such thing as lasting beauty.
“Damn it, old man. Fucking hurry up,” he mumbled under his visible breath. The streets were mostly empty. His eyes followed a homeless guy further down the block. The man stumbled and swayed as he crossed the street heading towards the alley. The spotlight created by the street lamp behind him highlighted his ragged old jacket and the brown bag clutched in his hand. Ty shook his head as he watched. The poor bastard would probably freeze before morning if he wasn’t lucky enough to be picked up for public intoxication.
Ty glanced towards the small storefront that was Safe Works. He was the required distance away, barely. He rarely made exchanges that close to the place—and so visibly—but it was a quiet night and the chance of being seen was minimal. Ty had sent Art in to pick up new shit, doubting he had anything and knowing he’d just steal what he needed off some other junkie. Ty had been around enough junkies to know that clean needles didn’t matter to them, but he tried to encourage them, anyway. It was the least he could do for them.
But there was only so much Ty could do; everyone had to make their own decisions in life. There was no changing the direction his own decisions had taken him, even if he wanted to. Ty flexed his pecs involuntarily as he often did when he thought about the reminder he carried, inked above his heart. Redemption. He wondered if there really was such a thing for a person like him.
Art was just lucky to have found him and that he happened to be carrying. He hadn’t planned on being found tonight. This was Ty’s night to himself, a night he could be someone else for a little while, at least.
He had left his guitar at the bar, and would have to go back and get it before going home. Ty had been looking forward to playing at the open-mic night. When he was onstage he could escape and forget about everything. Forget who he was, where he was, but mostly forget the disgusting life he led. The desire to play had left him after Art had tracked him down.
Ty turned and looked down the block. No sign of life beyond the cars driving by at the end of the street. The cold highlighted the exhaust that ghosted behind them. It reminded him of smoke from a cigarette. His fingers twitched to reach for his pack but it was too cold to hold one. Finally, he saw Art emerge from the plain brick storefront. As Art shuffled down the sidewalk he called out to Ty, bringing him out of the shadows.
“Damn, Art, keep it down,” Ty growled at him. “What the fuck took you so long?”
“The angel.”
The old man was losing it. He was always a little off, talking to himself and shit like that, but Ty had never known him to hallucinate before.
“Whatever. Did you get your stuff?”
Ty knew that Jack was at Safe Works and would have made sure Art was taken care of. Jack Adams was almost always there since he’d gone straight. As far gone as Jack had been, Ty didn’t see how he could hang around addicts all day. It made no sense, but he had seen crazier shit.
“The angel gave it to me, an angel with a needle,” Art went on. Ty rolled his eyes as they ducked back behind the shadow of the brick wall to make the exchange.
“The most beautiful angel. And she talked to me. You have to see her.” He continued to ramble on about the angel, but Ty didn’t understand him and didn’t really care.
“Art, have a good night and try to stay warm.” Ty tried to hurry Art along so he could get out of there. No need to hang around a sale any longer than necessary.
Ty watched Art shuffle off down the street, and threw a glance back towards Safe Works. He was curious about what Art had been saying, but not curious enough to hang around in the cold. He turned the other way to head back to the bar. It was just a few blocks and the walk warmed him up some. He stepped inside and immediately the strong scent of smoke and beer hit him. Ty reached into his inner pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. Maybe he would have a quick smoke and a drink just to warm up before he left again. Ty sat down at a table away from the door and listened to the guitar player on the stage. He wasn’t bad, just generic. Ty ordered a Jack and Coke and finished off the cigarette, deciding that the whole night had been a wash.
The guy on the stage continued his set, morphing one stale song into another. Ty looked around as he waited for his drink. The atmosphere was hazy with smoke in the dim lighting. The patrons weren’t paying much attention to the performer. Most were deep in conversation at their own tables, a few were playing darts and a couple of old timers were sitting at the bar watching a muted hockey game on TV. The mood of the room was the same as it always was: a blend of those out for a good time and those out because it was better than being home alone.
Ty’s drink came; he handed some money to the waitress and then lit another smoke to accompany the booze. Ty noticed a few people he vaguely knew in the back corner, but didn’t feel like socializing. He might have before Art found him, but his mood had soured.
His mind went back to Art and his angel. Could Art have been talking about Jack? The fucker was a pretty-boy. He might have been able to chalk it up to the ramblings of an addict if Art’s eyes hadn’t been so clear. Art was junk sick and needed a fix, but he was still lucid. Ty took another drag and let the smoke fill his lungs before he slowly let it leak out. Ty shook his head to rid it of thoughts of angels. He finished off his drink and got up to leave.
He pulled his jacket around him and zipped it up as he made his w
ay over to the bar. Ty caught the bartender’s eye as he was pouring a beer and gestured towards the back room where he had stashed his guitar earlier. The bartender nodded and pushed the handle back, shutting off the amber flow. Ty opened the door to the little room and maneuvered around a few empty kegs and some crates. He grabbed the guitar case by its strap and slung it over his shoulder. He walked past the bar on his way outside.
“Hey T. J.,” Ty turned to see the bartender beckoning to him. “Aren’t you going to play for us tonight?”
Ty rested his foot on the railing that ran the length of the bar as he leaned forward. “No, I’m just going to take off.”
“The ladies are gonna be disappointed,” he continued. “You know they love it when you play. We always do better business when you’re here.”
He shrugged shyly and muttered, “Maybe some other time, man.”
It always made him uncomfortable when people commented on his performances. He really didn’t do it to impress anyone; it was just the one thing that made him feel less empty. As Ty reached the door he had to step back and let a couple guys pass by. They were arguing over something and one guy playfully shoved the other one and he bumped into Ty. Their eyes locked and Ty’s hand twitched at the “fuck you” glare the guy challenged him with. Ty didn’t need the trouble—or the satisfaction—that pushing back would give. He apologized and looked down before quickly stepping away.
Ty didn’t give the incident a second thought as he walked back out into the cold. He started up the block to the next, busier intersection. It would be easier to catch a cab on a main street. He started to whistle as he walked and stopped when he realized he was whistling the last song the performer at the bar had played. Echoes of the chorus lingered in his mind, promising an angel. It brought to mind Art and his angel.
“Fuck you, Art,” Ty muttered, as he turned around and headed back towards Safe Works.
The whole way there he told himself he was being ridiculous. As he got close, he could see two people standing out front. Ty quickened his step, hoping he could make out who they were before they were gone. He recognized Jack’s tall, thin frame, but the small woman in the oversized white puffy jacket was a stranger.
He stood in the shadow of a doorway of a pool hall across the street and watched them. He hadn’t seen her face, yet he was entranced with the way her long, fair hair bounced around her shoulders as she swayed back and forth slightly, trying to stay warm. She was definitely not there for works. He’d seen enough junkies in his life that he could spot one with just a glance. No, this girl was no addict. Ty wondered what she was doing there. He briefly thought she could be one of the benefactors, coming to check out where her rich husband’s money was going. He studied her more intently. That couldn’t be it.
Ty was still puzzling it out when Jack and the girl turned to look at a bright yellow VW bug that pulled up to the curb in front of them. That’s when Ty got his first glimpse of her face. His breath caught and he felt as if he’d just taken a punch to the gut. Standing out in the cold, on a desolate street in front of a rundown building that treated the forgotten of humanity, stood an angel. Silvery blond hair framed a delicate round face that radiated a pure, heart-stopping smile.
She stepped towards the car but stopped before getting in. She glanced in Ty’s direction but her smile was gone. In its place was a look of confusion. He didn’t think she could have seen him standing in the shadows of the doorway, and he desperately hoped she hadn’t. She shook her head and shrugged after Jack spoke to her. She glanced in Ty’s direction again and said something before getting into the car.
Ty stayed hidden as he watched Jack scan the street, apparently searching for whatever it was that had caught the girl’s attention. Ty could have just gone over and talked to him but something stopped him. He shouldn’t be there, but Jack wouldn’t turn him in. Jack and Ty had known each other for a long time. They had almost been friends before Ty went off to prison, as close as an addict and his dealer could be, anyway. It was just shortly before Ty got out that Jack left for rehab and since then they had been cordial to each other, but nothing more.
An icy gust blew down the deserted street and Jack turned and went back into Safe Works. Ty had never been inside and decided that now wasn’t the time to change that.
As a patron emerged from the door of the pool hall, Ty stepped aside, lit a cigarette, pulled up his collar and set off for home. Ty watched the smoke dance through the night, the white wisps highlighted by the street lamps. As it dissipated into the gray of the night, he envisioned the face of the angel. He knew it was unlikely he would ever see her again, but, somehow, she had ignited a tiny spark of hope in him that, just maybe, there was still something good and beautiful left in this world.
Chapter 1 - Introductions
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. We have no business even thinking about going to a place like this,” grumbled Faith.
Mary Flynn tried to ignore her closest friend’s complaints as Faith drove her little yellow bug from their safe middle-class neighborhood into the heart of the city. She watched out the window as the architecture changed from houses to tall, shiny glass structures; to smaller, crumbling brick buildings flanked by cracked concrete parking lots. The sun was low, obscured by dark clouds that made everything gray. Pedestrians hurried to their cars or buses as the workday ended.
The girls turned off a main avenue on to a smaller, less congested street that ran through the downtown district. Mary watched the left side of the street looking for the address she had memorized. They passed the mom and pop market on the corner: its wall of windows plastered with signs for cigarettes and bread for sale and a big sign flashing the latest Powerball lottery amount. Next to that was a slate gray building claiming to be The Best Used CD Shop Around. Both stores were two-story, attached to each other, though made from different bricks.
Mary had Faith slow down for the next storefront: a single-story building next to a small parking lot that was fenced off from the alley behind it. There were only a few cars parked in it, next to an overflowing dumpster. Faith only pulled into the lot far enough to turn around and park on the street near the front door of their destination.
Faith cut the engine, and the girls sat contemplating the building, which had four small windows and an unassuming white door. There was no neon sign declaring the name of the place, just a piece of paper tacked above the door identifying it as Safe Works, and listing its hours of operation. Neither of them made a move to get out of the car.
“One last time, are you sure you want to do this? You’re not committed to anything,” said Faith.
Mary shook her head as Faith grumbled something under her breath about needing to be committed. Faith had laid out her ideas on what Mary should do about her family situation, but Mary felt she could do more than just wait and pray.
Mary sighed, “We’ve been over this before. I might not be able to do anything to help my mom out but maybe helping here will give me the chance to make a difference in someone else’s life.”
“I don’t know Mary. It still sounds dubious to me. I mean you’d basically be condoning drug use. In fact, you’d be helping them. What would your grandparents say?” Faith got the condescending tone to her voice that she used when she thought she was too good for something.
“Faith, it’s not like I’m giving them the drugs or even selling it to them. I would just be making sure they had the means to do it safely. They’re going to do it anyway, so why not make sure that they aren’t putting others at risk from it? Maybe if someone had given J. P. a clean needle my mom wouldn’t be sick now.” She snapped the last words at Faith; not entirely sure why she was so defensive of why she was here. She had the same anxieties about it as Faith did.
“Jeez, calm down, Mary. I’m just pointing out the obvious.” Her stormy eyes flashed a warning but Mary continued.
“Shouldn’t we be there for others? Isn’t that the Christian thing to do? Helping those
in need?” Mary played on Faith’s strict Christian background; playing the same card Faith had used on her parents when she decided she was going to nursing school instead of getting married and raising a family.
“Oh, get off it, Mary. You know it’s not the same thing.” Faith’s voice was heated and Mary knew they were headed into an argument. Just as they were there for each other, like sisters, they occasionally argued like them too.
“Why is that? Is it because they are less of a person for making bad decisions?” She shook her head. “Then what, Faith? What makes it such a bad thing to want to go help there?”
Faith reached across the seat and captured Mary’s hands, stopping them from wildly gesturing. “Mary, I didn’t mean it was wrong or bad. I just meant you should think this through. You know nothing about the kind of lives people that frequent that place live. Nor do you know the trouble that could be involved with it. What would your principal say if she found out you were helping there? How would it affect your job? What about the dangers of working at a place like that? How would you handle someone who came in all hopped up on something? You could be hurt or worse. Did you think of that?”
“Yes, actually I did think of all that. I’m sure they have some kind of policies that keep the employees and volunteers safe. On the website it said it had been open for nine years. I can’t imagine that they could stay open that long if it was dangerous. As far as my job goes, we’re encouraged to be active within the community.” Mary answered all her questions, yet was still upset with her for asking them in the first place.
“Mary,” her voice quieted considerably. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”
Mary felt bad for blowing up. She turned her hands palm up and took Faith’s. “I know you are. Just come in with me.” She hadn’t planned to ask Faith to join her in volunteering, but it just seemed right. They did everything together; this could just be another thing they shared.
