Full Frontal Fiction
Page 6
The Finish Line
BY DENNIS COOPER
Dear Dennis,
I was glad to hear from you, don’t worry about it. Whatever fucked-up shit came down between us, it doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t even remember what the problem was. People change, that’s right. I figured you were off doing your own thing and didn’t remember me. I’ve fucked so many people over, I don’t expect anybody to give a shit. I’ve been in AA off and on for a couple of years, and they make you think about what you do, and so I’m better about not going over people’s boundaries, like they say. I’m sorry for being a shithead a lot of the time back then. I make people into my dad, and then I have these big expectations that are just stupid. I wish I didn’t do that, but I still do. I just fucked up this thing with a guy here in Portland, although I have to say the guy was as much of an asshole as me. I don’t have anybody right now, and I get fucked up when I’m alone. I was clean for four months, but now I slipped and everything goes to hell when I’m using. So your letter came at a good time, because I’ve been feeling like nobody gives a fuck. I’m sleeping in my van right now because I don’t have anywhere to live, and I’m getting tired of it. I was doing pretty good for a while there. I got married to this woman, Carla, and we had a daughter. I was with her for about a year and a half, and that was a good time in many ways, but I couldn’t play it the way she wanted me to play it, so she kicked me out. That’s over. She has a restraining order against me, which I deserve because it got kind of crazy toward the end. I don’t know if you want to hear all this shit. You seem to think I’m somebody special, and you always did, no matter how much I fucked you over, which is why I loved you like I did. But it hasn’t worked out that I’m so special. That’s probably why I was such an asshole to you, because you thought I was so special, and I knew I wasn’t, but I wanted to believe it, so I wouldn’t let you have what you wanted, because if you got me for real, I just knew it would change. But then it got fucked-up anyway, and later I thought I was a total asshole for not just giving you what you wanted, because it wasn’t that much to give, and you were so nice to me, and I should have given it to you, because it’s probably the only thing I could have given you to thank you and show you that I cared. But I didn’t, so I’ve always felt like an asshole. I wanted to do it, you know. I was just scared that you’d think big deal, because let’s face it, that’s what happens. It’s not like I’ve been a saint since I last saw you. I try not to let people have me because it always fucks me up, but then I don’t keep jobs very well, and I need money, so I let people have me, just so I can get by, and so that I have something in my life. So I’m not scared of that shit anymore. I don’t have big hopes about it. I still had big hopes about it when I was with you. I just thought if I waited until I got out of high school, and had my shit together, it would be better for both of us. Then that time we started to do something, and I freaked out, I thought I blew it. I didn’t have my shit together, and now I don’t think I’ll ever have my shit together, so I feel like an asshole for freaking out. I don’t know why you wrote to me, and I’m trying to understand why. The day I got your letter I went to a meeting and told them about it, and asked what they thought. Those people all think I’m a fuckup, because I slip all the time, so I don’t really care what they think, but they said maybe I hadn’t blown it with you, and that I shouldn’t just blow you off, and that I should write you back, and be honest with you about my circumstances and my addiction and so on, and see what happens. So I’m trying to be honest with you, but that’s not something I’m good at. I’m trying to think about this, and not just say if you still want me you can have me as long as you give me some money. I told them that’s what I wanted to say, and they said that I should say that I love you, and I want to be with you, and not say the money part. Really, I don’t care about the money part except that I have nothing right now. So they said I should be honest with you, and that’s honest. Sometimes I think the people who go to those meetings aren’t being real. It’s not real to think you’re going to say, I love you for who you are and we should be together. I already blew that, and I’ll be honest with you, I think the drugs are always going to be a problem for me. So what I’m thinking is, I could come stay with you for a few days and just see what happens. I was thinking of driving down to LA anyway and trying to get some money out of these guys I know there. I guess I’ll just drive down in a couple of weeks and call you, and if you want to see me, cool. If you want to have me, that’s cool, and if you feel like giving me some money afterward, that’s cool, but I’m not expecting it. You said you don’t know what you want with me now, and I don’t know what I want either, not just with you but about everything. I know I want to go score, and I can do that, that’s easy. I know I want you to have me, if you still want me, and you said you do. I don’t remember if that serial murder shit you were into bugged me. Maybe I was scared that you were going to kill me, but I don’t think so. I haven’t thought about that shit for a long time. But I don’t live like that anymore. When I shoot dope, I don’t think if I do too much I’m going to overdose. I do as much as I feel like it to get as high as I can. When I let some fucking asshole have me for money, I don’t tell him what he can’t do, I just go with whatever he wants, because it’s bullshit otherwise. I got married and had a kid because I wanted to be with Carla, and she wanted that, and I went for it. If you’re still into that weird shit, that’s the way it is. If I’m going to let you have me, then you have me. If I don’t wake up the next morning, that’s the way it is. You were the nicest person to me I ever knew, and I just fucked you over left and right, thinking I had to protect something. There’s nothing to protect anymore. I gave it a shot, and it’s not happening. If you want me, you can have me. I used to be so into understanding myself, but now I just want to do things, and not understand them.
I’ll talk to you,
Gregg
Dear Dennis,
I’m coming down to Los Angeles next Tuesday. I have something to do that night, and then I’ll call you and come over. It’s perfect because, check this out, I’ve got this plan where I can steal a shitload of heroin from these guys down there. They think I’m buying it to sell, but fuck them. I’ve got it all figured out. So anyway, it’ll be cool because I’ll just come stay with you, and they won’t know where the fuck I am, and I’ll have all this dope for us to use. I used to believe in all that Buddhist crap, and then I sort of got out of that, but this whole thing is working out so great, I can almost believe it again. I’m so fucking high. I hope you can read this. When I got your last letter, I had to go celebrate, and fuck those AA guys who say they’re my friends. You don’t know the bullshit I’ve had to put up with, about accepting that I’m a fucked-up, helpless person. I started to believe it, so thanks for reminding me that I’m cool. Yeah, I’m not fat, Dennis, don’t worry. I’m fucking skinny as hell, but I could still go score with some guy right now, if that answers your question. I’ve got no problem getting guys to pay for it, as long as they don’t give a shit about the tracks. I can still pass for sixteen. I bullshit guys that I’m sixteen all the time, so you don’t have to worry about that, and I’m not going to worry about it either, because sometimes I can get really depressed about what I’ve done to myself, and I’m so sick of feeling like I blew all the shit that you and other guys used to think I was going to do with my life. You used to say I was going to be a great artist, but I haven’t done anything in a long time except try to get through every fucking day without killing myself. I tried to kill myself twice last year, if you want to know. The second time I almost did, and I used to be sorry it didn’t work, but now I’m excited. Maybe I won’t blow this thing with you. I feel like I have a chance. I’ve fucked up every good situation I’ve ever been in, and I decided that was because they were all bigger assholes than me, but you’re not an asshole, and you know my problems, so maybe you won’t be disappointed, because everybody’s always so fucking disappointed with me. If you want to know, I was pla
nning to steal that dope to kill myself, so this is great timing on your part. Thanks for giving me another chance. If I blow this, then that’s it. You can go serial killer on me, and I won’t even care. It would be better if you went serial killer on me than if you threw me out like everybody else has. Hey, I’m just fucking high. You’re going to hear from me soon anyway, so I’ll sign off.
Later,
Gregg
Dear Dennis,
Thanks for calling me back the other day. It was a weird conversation, but I’m not going to worry about it. I’m sorry I got pissed off. I just had this idea in my head that you’d send me the money and I’d buy the bus ticket, but I don’t blame you for thinking I’d use it to score. You’re probably right. Ever since my van got stolen, I’ve been pretty on edge, so anyway I’m sorry again. So go ahead and buy me a bus ticket, and tell me when to be on it. If you don’t mind driving me to those dealer guys’ place, that’d be cool, since I’m not going to have wheels. I won’t get you involved. You can just wait in the car. Anyway, I’m sorry about the shit on the phone. I was just jonesing, but a guy up here traded me dope for my ass, so it’s cool. He said he had a really good time with me, so you don’t have to worry about being disappointed with how I look now, if you’re worried about that. Don’t stop believing in me, Dennis. It was just a bad day. Thank you.
Gregg
Dear Dennis,
I guess you know by now that I didn’t make it down there. I tried to call you, but either you don’t want to talk to me or you’re out of town or something. I fucked up, okay? What do you expect? That’s why I want to come down there and see you, because I’m a fucking mess on my own. I’ll do whatever you say. If you send me another ticket, I won’t sell it. I swear on my life. Please write me back. I love you. Do you know how hard it is for me to say that?
Gregg
Dennis,
Your letter got me really pissed off. I wasn’t going to write you back, but I thought about it, and I feel like I don’t have a choice. I’ve really, really fucked things up here, not that you give a shit obviously. So yeah, whatever you fucking want. I’m just worried you don’t love me anymore, because you haven’t written that in a while, and that’s all I’ve got to live for right now. So if you could just tell me that you do, that would be cool. I’ll probably come anyway, but that would help, because I am kind of scared. You’re getting pretty heavy on me, and I don’t really have a problem with that, but the whole thing for me is that you love me, and if you don’t anymore, then I don’t know what the fuck to do. If you love me, I’ll do fucking anything you want, don’t you know that? I fucking swear. I don’t know what you want me to say about your rules. I feel like I don’t know what answers you expect, and I’m bad when I don’t know what people want, because I always make the wrong decision, if it’s up to me, but I guess you’re saying I have to answer or you won’t bring me down there and give me money and all that, so here you go. (1) Fine with you making a reservation so I won’t be able to sell the ticket. I won’t even get off the bus to take a shit, okay? The thing is, I don’t have any ID except for fake ID, so make the reservation or ticket or whatever for James Ravell. It’s a long story. (2) I think I answered that. (3) I think it’s really unfair of you to ask me that, because you know how hard it is for me. I told you I love you. All I can say is that the only person I’ve said that about is my daughter. You make me feel like I’m important. I’d be upset if you were dead. If someone fucked you over, I’d fuck them over. I’ve jacked off thinking about you holding me in your arms and telling me the kinds of things you said in your letters a while back. I don’t know what else to say. I’m going to come down there and be with you even though it scares the shit out of me, and part of me is worried you’re going to kill me. I mean, I’m not really worried, but you know what I mean. That’s a big fucking sacrifice on my part, so I guess that must mean I love you. (4) The heroin deal’s not going to happen now probably, because I sort of fucked it all up, so you don’t have to worry about that. (5) I ask myself that question every fucking day. I don’t think I’m worth shit. You’re the one who thinks I’m so great. So I don’t know how to answer that question, because it seems like a trick question to me, but then I can be really paranoid. I’m worth all this shit because I’m your friend, and because I’m going to let you do shit to me that I would never let anybody else do, and because you probably couldn’t get anybody else to do that shit with you, and because I’m great-looking like you said, okay? (6) I already told you that you can have any kind of sex you want to with me, but, if you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about the details anymore. Yeah, whatever you want, Dennis. Go for it. I’ve been in jail enough times that I think I can deal with whatever you’re talking about. Remind me to tell you sometime about the shit I went through in jail, because you’d probably really get off on it. Imagine someone who looks like me in jail, and figure it out. (7) You don’t have to worry about me taking off, as long as I have my dope, and you have a TV and maybe a VCR. So does that answer your rules? Now get me the fucking ticket, Dennis, so we can be together. No offense.
Gregg
Dear Dennis,
You’re going to be pissed off, but I have to change the plan a little. Just read this and you’ll see why this has to happen, and why it’ll be great for both of us. I fixed it so I could see those dealer guys after all, but they can’t do it on Monday night, so I changed the bus ticket for a different day, and I’ll call you from a pay phone near their place when I’m finished with the deal, because you shouldn’t have to hassle with it anyway, and it’s safer for both of us if I deal with it myself. So I’ll call you, and don’t be pissed off, okay?
Gregg
Dennis,
Thank you, thank you, thank you. Carlos is going to call you when he finishes doing something he has to do in a couple of hours. Thank you, thank you. You’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me. Nobody else would do this for me, I know that. It’ll be worth it, I swear.
Gregg
Dennis,
After the mean, evil shit you said to me last night, you deserve what happened. You’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever known. You say you love me, but all you want is my fucking body for your sick sex bullshit. Yeah, so I look wasted and skinny and shit. What do you fucking expect? I was totally going to let you do all that weird shit to me, you know. That’s how fucking desperate I am, because I thought you’d love me if I let you do that, because I do love you, you asshole. You’ve gotten me so confused, I don’t know what to think anymore, but I just want to tell you that I had nothing to do with what happened. Yeah, I set it up for them, and they were supposed to give me part of the money, but they fucked me over just like they fucked you over, I swear. I was going to share it with you. I know you don’t believe me. Now I’m much more fucked than you. You have money and a place to live, and I have nothing. I had to go down to Santa Monica Boulevard and sell my ass just to get a place to crash. I’m sorry you lost the money and that I didn’t stand up for you, but I’ve got nothing and now I’m stuck here, and this guy won’t buy me dope, and I’m sick. So I’m going to ask you if you’d please lend me some money so I can get high and go back to Portland. I think you owe me after all the shit you said. I’m at some guy named Lawrence’s place, but I don’t think I can stay here past tonight because he’s sick of my shit already. I know you don’t want to have anything to do with me, and you probably don’t even want to do that weird sex shit anymore, and I don’t deserve your pity, but I’m asking you this one last favor, and then I’ll fucking leave you alone. Fax me, okay? Be cool.
Gregg
Dear Dennis,
Yeah, that sounds cool. Thanks. I’m still totally cool with the sex stuff, I told you that. I’m up for it. I was just pissed off. I didn’t mean it, you understand. How about this, though? Just read this and see what you think? I don’t really want to go back to Portland. If you could give me enough money to fly to Cincinnati, and stay in a motel there for a c
ouple of weeks, then that would be the best thing for me. Carla and my daughter live there, and I think if I can get there, and get a job, and prove to her that I’ve got my shit together, she might give me another chance, and I’d be near my daughter. I’ve been thinking that might really be the thing that would make me get my shit together. I know you hate me now, but I was just thinking if we could go back to that thing before about your rules and all that, and I could stay with you for maybe a week, and do whatever the fuck you want, and I can just be your whore and pretend I don’t know you, and that you don’t know me or whatever, like you said. Maybe at the same time we’re doing all that, I could kick dope, so when I go to Cincinnati, I’ll be in good shape. I’ve kicked a hundred times and it never takes more than a week, and if you want to see me suffer, then you will. Doesn’t that sound sort of perfect? You can tie me up, like you were saying, and do whatever the fuck you’re going to do, and that way I won’t be able to escape and go score at the same time. That’s a really perfect plan, isn’t it? So what do you say? Fucking great, right? I’m excited. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.