The Dopefiend

by JaQuavis Coleman

  “Li’l ma, I don’t know who you are, but you barked up the wrong tree,” a calm, raspy voice said as he firmly held his gun, while pointing it at her chest. “Red sent you, huh?” he said as he yanked the bag from Millie. He lowered his gun and quickly grabbed Millie by the arm, while checking her for a gun with his other hand. He saw her rise from the back of his truck while he was paying for gas and the first thing that came to his mind was that Red had sent her to rob him for the same product he had just sold to him; an old stick-up kid trick.

  “You got five seconds to tell me who sent you or I’ma send one of these slugs through your stomach. Try me!” Tical said, meaning every single word he stated. He noticed how young the girl was and slightly loosened his grip on her. Millie was terrified and it showed through her youthful eyes. She couldn’t even get the words out; she just froze in fear.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I just hid in the back of your truck because this crazy mufucka was after me. I swear to God!” Millie said as she began to tear up thinking that she was about to die. Tical began to think about the man that he saw screaming in the parking lot and wondered if she was telling the truth.

  “What he look like?” he asked, still having a cold tone in his voice.

  “He was a white trucker-looking mufucka,” Millie said while keeping her eyes on Tical’s gun with her hands still in the air. Tical realized that it was possible that she was telling the truth, but he still remained cautious. He stared at her intently for a few seconds and then decided to ease up. He put his gun back into his waist as he looked around to make sure no one was watching. “Get in the car,” he ordered as he pointed to the truck. Millie turned, shaking like crazy, and headed toward the vehicle. She thought about making a dash for it, but she didn’t know if he would shoot her in the back. What the fuck have I gotten myself in to? This farmer-looking mufucka about to take me somewhere and rape and kill me, she thought as she slowly made her way to the passenger side.

  “And put yo’ hands down,” Tical said as he took one last look around the gas station. He put the coke back in the hidden compartments that were in the haystacks while keeping an eye on Millie through the back window. Once he finished, he got into the car and observed the young girl. He saw her discomfort and he saw that she didn’t pose any harm to him. He saw tears forming in her eyes and her jitteriness displayed her terror. Tical sat in the car and remained silent as he wondered if her story was legit. He put his gun on his side for easy access and shook his head, regretting what he was about to say.

  “Look, I’m not going to hurt you, so relax. I will take you back to the truck stop, okay?” he said in a nicer tone, trying not to scare the girl any more than he already had. Millie nodded her head in relief, but still remained cautious of him. She didn’t know his real intentions. He started up the truck and prepared to go thirty-three miles back and return to the spot, so he could drop her back off at her post. They rode in silence as Tical kept his eyes on the road. Millie was the first to speak.

  “So where are you from? I can tell that you are not from around here,” Millie said as she began to feel a tad bit more comfortable. Tical didn’t even look at her and continued to drive. He had a bad feeling about the girl and couldn’t help but feel that he was getting set up, but the good in him didn’t let him leave her so far away from where she supposedly was from.

  “Chill out with the small talk, ma. I ain’t got any convo for you,” Tical said as he frowned up.

  “Dang, I was just trying to be polite,” Millie said as she grew an embarrassed look and began to scratch her arms. Her high had fallen and she began to get the itch that most fiends got after they got high. She felt like an army of small ants was marching up and down her veins. Tical glanced at Millie’s arm and saw the needle marks. He looked at Millie’s gestures and knew that she was a user. He began to feel bad about being so rude to her and forced himself to talk to her.

  “How old are you anyway?” Tical asked. After a few seconds of silence, Millie noticed that Tical was glancing down at her marks. He continued after not getting a response, “Well, you don’t look a day over sixteen and you out here bad. That shit ain’t for you,” he said as he shook his head in disbelief. They getting younger and younger, he thought as he switched lanes.

  “How do you know what’s for me? I’m a grown-ass woman,” Millie lied as she snapped her neck back and forth displaying a major attitude.

  “Grown-ass woman, huh?” Tical said. Millie fooled a lot of people, but she couldn’t fool Tical. He knew that she was a minor. Although she had a developed body, she didn’t have the gestures of a person who had been through life yet. That was always a telltale sign and Tical could scope out that instantly. “You can’t be any older than sixteen or seventeen, but whatever you say.” He looked at the chocolate girl who sat next to him and for some reason was drawn to her. Maybe it was because she resembled his mother with her skin tone and big, deep brown eyes.

  Just as Tical was about to say something, the flashing red and blue lights of a police car shined. “Fuck,” Tical said as he calmly glanced in his rearview mirror. Tical pulled his truck onto the side of the road and instantly began to grow big butterflies inside of his stomach. He reached into his waist and discreetly slid his gun to the side of his seat, ready to blast his way out the situation if the officer caught wind of the kilos in the back of the truck. Millie watched as Tical became noticeably shaken up and as he slid the gun under his shirt while clicking it off safety. He had a life sentence hidden in his haystacks and he had already made up his mind that if the cop asked him to step out he was going to go out blasting. Tical watched as the cop got out of his cruiser and approached the truck.

  “Good evening, sir,” Tical said as he kept his hand on the steering wheel, already knowing the drill.

  “License and registration,” the cop said as he kept his hand near his gun.

  “No problem,” Tical said as he slowly reached over Millie’s lap and into the glove box. After retrieving his papers he handed them to the officer. The officer looked took the papers and suspiciously began to look at the haystacks in the back. The cop went to his cruiser and ran Tical’s name, finding out that Tical had a felony from a previous gun charge and he instantly got suspicious and wanted to find out more about Tical. He returned to the car looking for any signs that Tical was up to no good.

  “Who is this young lady with you?” the cop asked as he stood on Tical’s side.

  “This is my younger sister . . .”

  “Millie!” Millie said, interrupting him.

  “Is that right?” the officer asked as he glanced over at her. He walked to the back of the truck and began observing what was in the bed of it.

  “What’s the haystacks for?” the officer said as he began to take a closer look at them. Tical slightly turned his body to look back at the cop, but when he turned his gun slid off his lap and onto the side of the seat. “Damn,” Tical said in a low tone as he saw that the gun had slipped. The officer quickly turned around and approached the window.

  “What’s that, boy?” the officer said as he slowly placed his hand over his gun.

  “Nothing, sir,” Tical said as he began to get tense.

  “Won’t you step out of the car?” the officer said while keeping a close eye on him. He heard the clinking of the metal when Tical had dropped the gun and he quickly got suspicious. Tical, knowing that he had to stay calm and hope that the officer didn’t see the gun, stepped out the car slowly. The officer escorted him to the rear of the truck and told him to turn around. Fuck, Tical thought, as he knew that he was in a bad predicament. He watched helplessly from the backseat of the cop car as the officer made Millie stand at the rear of the car while he searched it. Tical knew that he was going to find either the gun or the drugs. The gun was in clear sight and he knew that he was caught. After three minutes of waiting for the cop to come out of the truck with the gun . . . nothing happened. The cop made Millie get back in the car and walked back to the patrol car
where Tical sat.

  “I’m just going to let you off with a warning,” he said as he opened the door and let Tical out. Tical was relieved as he slowly stepped out of the car and got the handcuffs removed. Tical could tell in the cop’s expression that he was disappointed that he didn’t find anything and Tical couldn’t help but smirk as he returned to his truck. He got back into the car and looked down at the floor, noticing the gun had been removed. At that moment he knew that Millie had hid it from the cop for him. Tical pulled off and took a deep breath, knowing that he had just dodged a bullet.

  “Thanks,” Tical said as he glanced quickly over at Millie.

  “It ain’t nothing,” Millie answered as she reached into her pantyhose and pulled out the gun and placed it on Tical’s lap.

  “So what’s your name again?” Tical said as he lightened up and became appreciative of her quick thinking.

  “Milian, but everyone calls me Millie.”

  “You are pretty sharp, I see.”

  “Yeah, I have to be. The streets tend to keep you on your shit,” Millie said, and began to scratch her arms again.

  “Who got you started?” Tical asked, referring to her heroin habit. He had seen the best of them go down because of the drug.

  “Started on what?” Millie asked while still scratching, causing her arms to slightly bleed. Tical momentary looked down at her arm and nodded his head in its direction. He gave her a look that said, “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

  Millie, seeing that Tical was street smart and could tell that she had a habit, couldn’t deny it. “My stepfather,” she answered.

  “Your stepfather? That’s fucked up,” he said as he shook his head from side to side. Millie studied Tical’s gestures and mannerisms and immediately was attracted. Even though he had on farmer clothes, she knew that it wasn’t his style. The way he talked and took his time with every syllable had Millie wanting to learn more about the older man. Her mind was trained to look at every man as a potential John and that is exactly what she did. Millie unbuckled her seatbelt and took the gum out of her mouth that she was chewing. She then leaned over the seat and attempted to put her head in Tical’s crouch, wanting to give him oral sex. Tical immediately put his hand on her forehead and gently pushed her away.

  “Fall back, ma. It ain’t that type of party,” Tical said as he frowned up and looked at Millie like she was insane.

  “What’s wrong? You don’t think I’m pretty?” Millie asked as she grew self-conscious about how she looked. When she was in school, she got teased about her dark skin tone. Millie had hatred for herself ever since she was young. Society had wrongly taught her that the lighter you are, the prettier the person was.

  “Actually, I think you are beautiful, but I ain’t trying to take it there with you. You are way too young for me,” Tical said as he sensed her insecurities.

  “You really think I’m pretty?” Millie skeptically asked as she ran her fingers through her damaged hair and placed the gum back into her mouth. She wasn’t used to a person telling her how beautiful she was when they had no intention of sexing her.

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Tical said. He wanted to change the subject, so he began to ask her common questions and they talked all the way until they reached the truck stop. The hour ride only seemed like minutes to Millie; she had fallen in love with Tical’s swagger within the thirty miles they had traveled on the highway. When he pulled up to the stop, she saw her stepfather waiting outside of the diner with a small bottle of five o’clock gin in his hand. Millie heart instantly began to pump. She knew that every time he drank he would beat and sexually abuse her.

  “Okay, here’s your stop,” Tical said as he put his truck in park and hit the unlock button. Tical looked over at Millie and noticed her discomfort. He followed her eyes and noticed that she was staring at the man who stood in front of the diner. “That’s your stepfather, huh?” he asked. Millie nodded her head and became teary-eyed as she thought about the night ahead of her. Tical looked at Millie, then back at her stepfather, and he just couldn’t release Millie to the wolves after what she had done for him earlier with the cop. “I’ll be right back,” he said just before he grabbed his gun and put it in his waist, jumped out of the car, and headed toward the man.

  The man who Millie called her stepfather leaned against the building while smoking a cigarette. He had been there for the past thirty minutes looking for Millie. He didn’t notice Tical walk up until it was too late. Tical grabbed the man by his collar and slammed him up against the wall aggressively.

  “Yo’, man, what’s yo’ damn problem?” he said as he looked confused as he got ambushed. Tical looked deep into the man’s eyes while still having a tight grip on him, and although Tical was full of rage, his voice remained calm and clear.

  “Yo’, is that your daughter in that car right there?” he asked as he threw his head in the direction of Millie, who sat in his passenger side. The man squinted, trying to look inside the car to see.

  “Oh, I see what you getting to,” he said as he grew more relaxed. “She is a hot commodity around here. Tell you what, give me fifty and you can have her all night. Believe me, she’s good. I’ve tested the goods myself,” he said proudly as puffed his cigarette. Tical couldn’t control himself as he quickly wrapped his strong hand around the man’s neck and squeezed as tight as he could. The thought of Tical’s own mother being killed by an abusive boyfriend when he was only sixteen emerged. Millie looked so similar to his mother, he instantly felt connected to her, and all of the hatred seemed to travel into his hand that was suffocating the man. Tical watched as the man struggled for air and dug his nails into Tical’s hand, trying to get him to release him. Tical began to talk to the man, speaking his mind. “You are a bitch-ass nigga. You feeding that li’l girl poison and killing her slowly. She’s not even old enough to understand what she’s doing her body. I should put a hole through yo’ mufuckin’ dome. Niggas like you make me sick. You can’t get out here and hustle for yours; you leech off of the weak. But you the weak one!” he said as he emphasized every word that came out of his mouth. He reached and grabbed his pistol from his waist. He then put the barrel of the gun in his mouth and his trigger finger began to itch. Tical stared at the man as he looked as if he was about to lose consciousness and realized that he wasn’t even worth the bullet. He released his strong grasp and watched as the man fell to his knees and gasped for air. Tical turned around and walked toward his truck, breathing heavily. Millie looked confused as she sat there in fear, not knowing what Tical was going to do to her. She hadn’t heard what was said between the men, she just saw Tical grab her stepfather by the neck. The car was silent, except for Tical’s heaving breathing, which eventually slowed down. Tical gathered himself and thought about what he was about to say. He knew that he was about to do something out of character, but deep in his heart he had to.

  “You are coming with me, okay?” Tical said as he turned to Millie and stared at her with his piercing hazel eyes. Something came over Millie and in a situation where another girl would’ve been scared, she became comfortable. She slowly nodded her head in agreement as tears formed in her eyes. Not tears of pain, but of joy. For some unknown reason to her, she knew that from that day on, she would be okay.

  From that day on, Tical took Millie under his wing and taught her everything he knew. He looked at her as a younger sister and helped her kick her drug habit and made her return to school. He always told her that her living with him would just be temporary, but weeks turned into months, and month into years. They had become family. Tical helped her kick her heroin habit cold turkey and told her that he would kill her before he let her go down that road again and he meant every word. He refused to let Millie inject poison to her body. He told her that she was on the wrong side of the game, and instead of killing herself with the drug, he taught her how to get rich off the drug. After two years of grooming and on her nineteenth birthday, he introduced Millie to the hustle
game and she took to it like a duck took to water. Most people said she was the female version of Tical and rightfully so, as he raised her. Tical had promised her that no matter what they would always be family and always stay close. That’s why he made sure that every Friday was their day to bond and talk. Even after she moved out, he wanted to keep their Friday ritual going. He never told her, but he wanted to make sure that Millie never messed with drugs again, and that was his slick way of always checking on her and keeping her close. She was his backbone and he was hers.

  Millie snapped out of her nod and looked around her home, hoping she would see Tical . . . but then her harsh reality set in. She wiped the slobber from her mouth and tears from her eyes and staggered to the bathroom to clean herself up. She knew that the only way she could see Tical was in her daydreams.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hazel was wiping down the table in Insight’s cafeteria. Dr. Young had gotten her a job as a food service worker there and she had been clean going on almost six months. She had visited Apple frequently along with Seven and she could tell that her father was happy to have his little girl back. Hazel glanced at the clock and noticed that she had worked five minutes past her shift, and quickly finished wiping of the long tables and snatched off her hair net. She made her way to the back room where the other cafeteria women were and stuck her head in the door.

  “See ya, guys,” she yelled as she smiled, sticking half of her body inside the room.

  “See ya!” one of the elderly women yelled.

  “Bye, Hazelnut!” another one said. Hazel was taken aback at the sound of someone calling her by her nickname. It instantly reminded her of Millie. She exited the facility, telling people bye on her way out, but Millie was the only thing on her mind. Hazel missed Millie so much, it hurt her heart. But a rule of recovery was to separate yourself from former friends who could potentially make you relapse.