Smack

by Melvin Burgess

  Lils patted her stomach. “This is all for you, yeah,” she said. We all laughed and I thought, Lucky little git.

  We did the big breakfast, bacon and eggs and that, then we went for a walk. We were all still feeling a little run down, like you do at the beginning. Sals said in Bristol by this time she’d be feeling shitty, but out here it was okay. It was this feeling that the air was so good we couldn’t feel bad at all. Which was a bit of a mistake, really, looking back.

  We walked down this track, downhill. It soon ran into woods, big tall trees, quite a lot of light coming through. We saw squirrels and birds. It was nice. Then there was this walk up the hill and that did us all in—none of us had walked more than down the road for years, I suppose. Then we went down another hill and this time we were in a plantation, little trees all packed in together.

  That wasn’t so good. It was man-made. It was dark, they pack those trees so close together. We carried on.

  It was the woods, I suppose. It was all dead—dead little trees all packed in neat little rows, like a tree factory. Nothing growing underneath and nothing in between as if these baby trees were poisoning the ground.

  Actually, I was all right. I’d had a little dab out of my packet earlier—you know, just wetted the end of my finger and stuck it in, not enough to get a hit. Just enough to keep the heebie jeebies away. I didn’t even notice the others, but I was thinking maybe I hadn’t done enough and I ought to slip off and do a bit more when Lily suddenly said,

  “Fuck this. Fuck this!”

  We all jumped. Right out there in the middle of nowhere. She was standing there with her foot up to the ankle in this rut full of water. She was livid. She was only wearing these black felt shoes she wears all the time, not really what you go for a country walk in. I had a look round and I could see everyone was looking shifty and jaded and I thought, O-oh.

  Lily turned round and stomped back up the hill towards the cottage. We’d been planning this really long walk over the hills and dales to get the toxins out of our systems. I could have carried on a bit, but you could see at a glance that the others had had it.

  We didn’t talk much on the way back, but I did have a chat with Sally. She didn’t seem too bad either and I had an idea maybe she’d had a dab an’ all. I was going to ask her, but it was a bit risky. About halfway home Gemma suddenly turned round and she said, “God, I didn’t expect to feel this bad, this is awful…”

  Me and Sals just laughed. It was funny—what did she expect? None of them was expecting it. Me, like I say, I’d taken precautions. But when Lils looked at me I stopped laughing because, shit, she really did look awful. Clammy. She’d been doing a lot lately. Well, let’s be honest, we all have. I’d have given her a dab as well, but they’d all been making such a big thing about getting right off it once and for all and I didn’t want to make it worse for her. You know, you build yourself up to do something and then you fail—it doesn’t help, does it? Besides, there was the baby. That was why we were all there, right? Not just for Lily. For the baby. And it was my baby too.

  “It’ll be easier tomorrow,” I said. Lils gave me this dirty look, and I thought, I wonder if she knows?

  We got back. We built a big fire to try and make it cosy and we started smoking joints to try and keep the heebie jeebies away.

  Tar and Lily were having the worst time. Sal and Gemma were sitting together bolstering one another. Gems was saying. “I don’t care how bad I feel, I’m not going to crack.” She’s strong. She meant it. She and Sal, they’re two tough ladies.

  Lils wouldn’t talk about it. “Yeah, I’m all right, you worry about your own head,” she said. But she wouldn’t look any of us in the eye.

  As for Tar, he was looking very fishy. I think the joints were a mistake for him. Tar’s one of those people who don’t take to hash so well. He started to get that anxious look he used to have, and he was going for little walks on his own, which made Lily ask him if he had a little stash of his own, which he denied. I’m fairly sure he didn’t actually, because he was a mess. He started talking about getting some booze.

  “You’d only get a hangover, and then what about tomorrow?” asked Gemma.

  “I need it, I need it, Gems, you don’t understand,” he said.

  “You can’t make coming down feel good, you just have to go through it,” Sally told him. By this time, Sal and me were smirking a bit at one another when one of us said something like that. It was, like, I know you know and you know I know but neither of us is going to say anything. Lils had the cramps by now, so did Gemma. Tar didn’t get the cramps so much, but pretty soon he started throwing up. Whereas me and Sal…well, I was moaning about how foul I felt and so was she. But…well…

  Finally, it must have been about four o’clock in the afternoon, Tar said, “I’ve had enough of this, I’m going to hitch in and get some booze.”

  I said, “I’ll give you a lift.” There was a village nearby but they didn’t sell anything. The nearest offie was a good five miles away and anyway, Tar was only sixteen. They might refuse to serve him.

  He didn’t want a lift at first. He said he wanted to go on his own. But of course once it was established he was going, everyone wanted something to drink, so I ended up driving him in anyway.

  Well. We got there all right, bought some cider and beer. Then he said, “I’m going to walk back.”

  I just looked at him.

  “No, I want to.”

  “Five miles, Tar.”

  “I just want to clear my head.”

  I thought, Oh yeah. I didn’t say what I was thinking, but we were both thinking it. I watched him in the mirror as I drove off. He stood there watching my back but he didn’t move until I was out of sight.

  Things had gone downhill quite a lot while I was gone. They were all looking foul; there must have been an argument or something judging by the atmosphere. Gemma was getting violent stomach cramps. I thought, Wow, she must have been doing a lot to get those sort of symptoms. I handed over the cans and while they were opening them, I went into the bedroom for another dab. I figured, well, one of us better keep a clear head. But Lils followed me.

  She just looked at me and said, “Gimmee.”

  I spread my hands. “What do you mean, Lils?”

  “Don’t muck me around, I know what’s going on. Now just give me mine, I want mine, all right?”

  I fished around in my pocket. “What about the baby?” I said.

  “Don’t give me that crap, you want me to get like Gemma? Yeah, that’ll do the baby a whole lotta good. Right, yeah…” She snatched the package off me and then pulled a piece of silver foil out of her pocket.

  “I only had a dab,” I said.

  “Yeah, how many? You haven’t been coming down at all…”

  She wasn’t that angry. I reckon she was pleased really, because if I hadn’t brought any, where’d she be then?

  Don’t get it wrong. We weren’t getting back on it but…going away and just expecting to drop it was a bit unrealistic. You have to do these things bit by bit.

  We didn’t have any needles, we had to have a chase. Then we lay on the bed and listened to Gemma having a bad time. Sal was joining in but she wasn’t so convincing. Lils had already guessed that she had some; they’d had an argument about it while I was away. They were really making a racket, moaning and groaning. After a bit we started to giggle. I mean, poor old Gemma was falling to pieces, Sal was making a fuss to keep her company, but in fact she was just like me and Lils, and all it took was a little dab I had in my pocket and Gems’d be as right as rain…No, but I know it wasn’t funny, it feels awful. But, you know?

  Well. It went on till, I dunno, ten o’clock? Gemma was getting really agitated because Tar wasn’t back. The village was only about five miles down the road and he’d been gone over five hours.

  “Something’s happened to him, he’s done something silly,” said Gemma. She thought he’d topped himself or something! I tried not to look at Lily but I
couldn’t help it. We both started snorting and laughing. It was no use, I couldn’t keep a straight face with Lily looking at me like that. Gems didn’t seem to notice that all the rest of us were okay. And as for Tar…

  It was just so obvious. Tar didn’t have to kill himself. If he was that desperate there was a much easier way. Not that I’d fancy hitching all the way back to Bristol. He wasn’t exactly wearing his woollies and overcoat. Come to that, I don’t think he even owned one.

  Poor old Gems, she was so worried about him. Her stomach cramps were really bad and…it was getting silly. Then Sals started on at us because we were laughing about it.

  We had to spill the beans. Lils got cross and she said, “Look, Gemma, it’s obvious…” and she told her that Tar had certainly hitched back home for more smack.

  That was the worst bit. Gemma was furious. She wouldn’t have it at first. She more or less accused Lily of lying, and that’s a bad thing to do. They started shouting and that’s when Gems clicked that Lily and I had some.

  And then there was a real major row.

  “But what about your baby?” said Gemma. “You just don’t care, do you? You’re doing that to your baby…”

  I thought, O-oh. I cleared off quick into the next room because you can tell Lily anything, but don’t tell her she’s doing her baby any harm…

  It was horrendous. They were screaming and yelling. Sal was quite pissed up by this time and she was having a go as well, which was a bit unfair because she was all right. I sat on the bed next door and listened. They were really digging up the dirt on one another. Finally Gemma came barging into our room in tears. Gemma’s no good at that sort of thing, she starts crying. Sals and Lils’ll carry on forever. We could hear them screaming at each other and Gemma said, “Give me some, just…give me, will you?”

  I pulled the packet out. I was getting a bit worried because there wasn’t much left but I couldn’t say no, could I? She calmed down. Lils came in a bit later. She said, “Are you all right now, Gems?”

  “I’d have done it if just one of you bastards had hung out with me,” said Gems. And the whole thing started off again. I thought, This is no fun.

  Gemma

  We never even spent the second night.

  On the way back no one said anything. A couple of times I tried to say how awful it was, but I just got “Next time, next time, next time…” We were all scared silly.

  I’d tried to give up about half a dozen times, but I’d never been scared before. I mean, you’ve gotta take risks, we’d all been scared about ODing, or about getting stuck forever on junk, or about buggering up our veins, that sort of stuff. But that’s just normal. This time was different, and I knew I really was a junkie this time because, what’s a junkie scared of? Not AIDS, not overdosing, like you might think. We were scared because there might be no more smack at the other end. It was the first time I’d felt like that. It was the first time I knew I couldn’t get by without it.

  Rob dashed round to Dev to score, but I was all right because Tar was at home when I got there and of course he’d already scored.

  He was sitting on the settee. “Home already, Gems?” he said, with this silly little I-told-you-so smile.

  I walked across to the kitchen area and found the stuff in our usual stash place. I got my works together, put the kettle on. I sat down on the settee and did it.

  You have no idea. You have no idea.

  I could feel him watching me. “You really hitchhiked all the way back?”

  He pulled a face. “I should have taken a bit with me.”

  “Rob did.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Why didn’t you ask him, instead of hitching all the way back?”

  “I don’t know.” Then he pulled a face and told me I wasn’t to get at him; how did I think he felt about it? I got on with the tea. We drank our tea sitting on chairs at opposite ends of the table and he started again. He said it didn’t matter anyway, because he hadn’t really intended giving up, he only went along with it because the rest of us were so keen and he’d cleared off because he didn’t want to tempt us.

  “I like what I’m doing, why should I want to give up?” he said.

  “And what happens when you turn blue, like Lily did?”

  Tar gave me a grin and said, “Live fast, die young, you know, Gems…”

  “You don’t really think like that,” I said.

  “You don’t know anything about it when you’re dead,” he said.

  “Yeah. But no more junk for deadies…” I teased.

  It was quiet for a bit and then Tar got up to put some music on and he started talking…how he felt better now, stronger; how he was going to have another crack in a week or so; he would have been all right but he knew Rob had some so it was going to fail anyway, but now it was different because he knew what he was up against…

  I sat there and I watched him. I wasn’t even listening really. I was thinking about how much better he’d been these past few years. I’d really thought that, that he was better. But suddenly I really wanted the old Tar back. I wanted my Tar back.

  I started to cry. I put my head in my hands. I said, “You never even do anything to that sodding dandelion any more,” and I tried to squeeze back my tears.

  Tar came and put his arms around me. “I didn’t mean it, Gems…I was just saying that. I want to live and stay with you.”

  I just wept.

  “Dandelion,” he said.

  I turned and buried my head against his stomach. “Dandelion,” he said. “Dandelion, dandelion, dandelion.”

  “I love you,” I said. And I bloody meant it too.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to say that all these years,” said Tar in a quiet voice. He stroked my face. I looked up at him. “I love you too,” he said. “I love you too. Dandelion.”

  “Dandelion, dandelion, Tar.”

  Skolly

  It used to be a nice area round here. You look at the houses.

  Big stone things, Victorian, Georgian, some of ’em. This must have been a posh part of town, believe it or not. Even I can remember when I was growing up, there was some posh money about. And those of us who didn’t have it, you’ll’ve heard this before, but it’s true, we were all in it together. There was a sense of community.

  You just have to make the most of it, but I feel sorry for some people. There’s this old lady I know, she must be ninety-odd, she’s lived in St. Paul’s all her life. Now look at it—the whole street is black. Reggae booming out all hours. Curry everywhere. Muggings, drugs, prostitution. I mean live and let live, all right, but she remembers the days when all this was a good area. You never even saw a darkie when she was a girl. I drop round there with some chocolate from time to time and let her go on—not often, once she gets going you can’t stop her. But it is interesting.

  Of course she makes it hard on herself—never goes out, never talks to the neighbours. You can’t blame her, they probably taught you that darkies ate you when she was a kid. She probably thinks the curry’s full of old dears like her.

  On the other hand she was probably a snooty old bag even when she was young.

  We had riots a while ago. Blacks, mainly. As usual. My shop got smashed up, would you believe? And you know what they painted on the front?

  “Fat Jew Bastard.”

  Me…a Jew? I ask you. I’m so Jewish, I think a bar mitzvah is a sort of biscuit. Fat…all right. Bastard…well, sometimes. But I’m no Jew-boy. Those Rastas are more Jewish than I am. Lost tribe of Israel—some of them believe that, I’ve read it. I’m Bristol-born, Bristol-bred. My dad was, and his dad before him. We go back for years. I admit my great grandfather was Jewish. That’s where the name comes from. I’d have changed it if I was bothered. I get a bit of stick about the name, but I never thought anyone’d smash up my shop because I had a Jewish name.

  Even if I was Jewish, what have they got to get at me for? They’re always going on about being picked on ’cause of their race; ho
w do they think the Jews feel? Those darkies don’t even know what persecution is. Actually, my side of the family had it easy, we were over here when everyone else was getting gassed over there, but still.

  They’ve only been over here two generations, the West Indians. Didn’t take ’em long to pick up the local prejudices, did it?

  I’m going off the point. I was very upset about my shop.

  Anyway, seediness. I say this because I was going down the road the other day, on my way for a pint at the Eagle, and there it was—the police car half up on the kerb, flashing lights, the ambulance blocking off the road, everything looking busy and no one in sight…

  It’s always interesting when someone gets into trouble. Although this could have been more interesting if it was something else. The ambulance—it could just have been someone hurt themselves falling downstairs. Or a fight, something domestic. Now if it were armed robbery or supplying stolen goods—what you might call traditional crime—that would’ve been nearer home and something to tell the lads.

  I did a little detour just to have a nose. I knew the house very well from years ago. On the corner, quite a nice big garden. I keep an eye on things but on the City Road there’s always people moving in and out; you never know, you can’t keep track of them all. I hadn’t even noticed who lived there for donkey’s.

  I was walking down the road opposite and the door opened and these two ambulancemen came out, half carrying, half dragging this lad between them. The police car was going, flash, flash, flash. I dunno who he was, I don’t remember seeing him before.

  I thought—drugs. It had to be. This bloke, his head was on his chest, he was stumbling. He’d taken too much and given his mates a scare and they’d called the ambulance and now they were being done as well!

  Typical.

  I thought, Nah, not really my scene. I don’t take drugs and I don’t deal in them either, although I know some of the boys make a lot of money like that. I watched them load this lad into the back of the ambulance and I was about to head off down the Eagle when the door opened again. This time it was the cops, and they had this boy and a girl. The bloke was tall and thin with a scatty haircut. I didn’t recognise him. The girl was young and pretty, or at least, she used to be. She was still young, but…I knew her from a while back, you see…