by Dayle Gaetz
That’s when I first smoked crack. Rachel was right. The high hits so fast you don’t see it coming. And, if you’re lucky, it lasts for all of five minutes before you start to crash. That low is so low you need to keep using and using, spending more and more money.
But I was okay. I only used at parties. I could handle it.
Sometimes, when I was alone in my room at night, I got to thinking about how I had messed up. And then I felt so bad I couldn’t sleep. I needed help, but Coach’s pills were long gone. So I started keeping a stash of crack with me, just in case. Kind of like those pills, for emergencies only. I could handle it. No problem.
One day when no one else was home, I slept late, then went to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. There was some coffee in the carafe so I poured myself a mug and sat at the table. The back door opened and Mom walked in. She poured herself some coffee and sat across from me.
She looked at me and then stared into her coffee mug. She lifted it and put it down again. “Curt, something’s wrong. Please tell me, maybe I can help.”
“I’m fine!”
“You’ve dropped your old friends, you’ve quit sports, we hardly ever see you — and you seem so unhappy…”
“So I made some new friends! Is that a crime?”
“Of course not, Curt, it’s just that you’ve changed so much lately.” She took a deep breath and went on. “I’ve done some research. Curt, you have all the symptoms of having a drug addiction.”
I felt that rage again. It built inside me so fast I couldn’t control it. “You’re out of your mind!”
“Curt, you need help…”
“Stay out of my life!” I yelled.
I heard her sob as I slammed out of the house. I felt so bad I wanted to go back, but my feet kept right on walking until I found myself at Rachel’s place.
She was sitting on her lumpy couch, smoking a joint, drinking beer and crying. Black mascara streaked down her face. The roots of her hair were black too.
“What happened to you?”
“I got fired! I can’t believe it! I always work hard, I do a good job — but that manager never liked me.”
She was right. She did do a good job when she was there, but half the time she showed up late or not at all.
“I’m going to need that money you owe me,” she said.
“What money?”
She laughed. “Come on, kid, you didn’t think all that stuff was free, did you?”
“But I paid you!” I couldn’t believe this. Almost all of my last paycheck went to Rachel. She said it was my share of the party expenses.
Her laughter died and her face turned hard. “No. I’ve been keeping track. You still owe me plenty. And I owe plenty to a couple other guys, so I need you to pay up.”
“Whatever. I have no money until payday.”
“Sorry, kid. No way I can wait that long. I need the money now. Trust me, you don’t want to mess with these guys.”
Rachel didn’t look so good; she was pale like a ghost. When she smiled, a shudder ran through me because her face looked exactly like a skull. She raised her hand to take a drag and it shook so bad she could hardly reach her mouth.
Had she just threatened me? Or was she scared? I didn’t stick around to find out.
Chapter Fourteen
I walked straight to Leah’s apartment building and stared up at the windows. They stared back like dark, empty eyes. Leah wasn’t there.
I hated myself. I hated what I was doing to my life. I hated this thing, this terrible need. It was inside me, around me, creeping over my skin. I had to make it stop. But I couldn’t! I was so weak! I hated myself.
Suddenly the anger took over. Everything was Leah’s fault. If she hadn’t dumped me I would be fine. Trembling, I ran to the door and pounded on the buzzer, over and over again.
“Hey!” a woman yelled from the window next to Leah’s. “Give it up! What are you, crazy?”
I stepped back and shook my fist up at her, an old lady with gray hair. “Mind your own business!” I screamed and took off down the street.
I walked for hours without going anywhere. By evening my feet hurt. I was hungry and headed for home. I was almost at the backyard when I heard voices. I crept slowly to the corner of the house. Mom and Dad were on the back porch, talking.
My father said, “He lost his job?”
“Yes. The manager phoned. He said Curt didn’t show up for work today and this isn’t the first time. He has to let him go.”
My face went hot. Anger burned in my gut. What was she talking about? I never missed work! Not on purpose anyway. Sometimes the manager changed the schedule on me, but it wasn’t my fault. No one told me I was supposed to work today!
“Where is he now?” my father asked.
I could barely hear my mother’s answer. “I don’t know.” She paused. “Doug, I’m scared.”
I crept away and headed for the store. I would tell that manager exactly what I thought of him. He said to come in on Tuesday, not today.
I stormed across the parking lot, angry enough to throttle the guy. “Ten Percent Off Everything in the Store!” the big sign across the front windows said. How stupid can you get? Someone put it up too early. That’s supposed to be for tomorrow. The parking lot was full, just like on Tuesdays. And suddenly it hit me. I had messed up, again. Today was Tuesday. I turned away.
I was hungry and really wanted to go home, but could not face up to my parents, not right then. So I kept on walking. My feet hurt more with every step and my head was starting to feel worse than my feet. When I saw the pay phone I stopped and stared at it. Should I call her? Would she hang up on me? Did I still have the number? I searched my pockets and found a folded sheet of paper.
I didn’t have any money, but I made the call anyway. I needed to talk to her so badly I called collect. Instead of giving my name, I quickly said, “Leah, please talk to me!”
She answered. I held my breath. The mechanical voice said, “You have a collect call from ‘Leah, please talk to me!’ Will you accept the charges?” She gasped. I waited.
“Yes!”
“Leah,” was all I could say.
“Curt, where are you?”
“I’m …walking.”
“I feel like walking,” she said. “Where are you?”
Something was wrong here, but my head hurt, I couldn’t think. “I gotta go now.” I hung up, stared at the phone and walked away.
At the gun emplacement I hunched down out of the cold wind. I was safe here and might never go home. If only I wasn’t so cold and hungry. If only my head didn’t hurt so bad. And I was tired. I would rest a while and then decide what to do.
“Curt!” The voice seemed far away. “Curt!”
My eyes refused to open. My voice wouldn’t work. I was in the middle of a deep dream. But I was so cold. All of my bones ached. I must have been asleep for a very long time. I realized that someone was leaning over me. A warm hand rested on my arm. “Curt? Are you okay?”
“Mmm…”
Hands gripped my shoulders, shook me. “Curt, talk to me!”
“Leah?” My eyes opened. Everything was dark. I could see only vague outlines against a slate gray sky.
“You’ve been missing for hours. I — we were hoping we’d find you here.”
My head throbbed. I pressed my hands against it.
“It’s all right now, Curt, it’s time to go home.”
“No…don’t understand…can’t go home… Mom and Dad…”
“Your parents are worried sick about you. So is Stuart. Everyone has been looking for you all night!”
“Stu?”
“I’m here, man.”
“How’d you guys find me?”
“Your mom phoned,” Stuart said, “and said you took off. Just lucky I knew where Leah was staying. I called her just before you did. Then we went out looking. It took us a while, but we finally figured out you might be here.”
“We want to help you, Cu
rt,” Leah said.
Suddenly I was on guard. I sat up straight. “What is this? What’s going on?”
“Nothing, man,” Stuart said. “It’s just, we’re real worried, you know, about the problems you’re having.”
“Yeah? What problems?”
“Okay, since you asked, your problems with drugs.”
“I’m out of here.” But before I could move, Leah grabbed my hand and held it tight. “Please, Curt, come back to your house with us. We need to talk to your parents.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Stuart said. “You have some better place to go?”
He had me there. “I don’t have a problem with drugs.”
“My dad talked the same way,” Leah said. “He couldn’t see what alcohol was doing to him. Not even when my mom left him and he lost his job and our house.”
“So? That’s got nothing to do with me.”
“Curt,” she said, “don’t you get tired of pretending to be all right when, inside, you’re hurting so bad it terrifies you?”
How does she know? “There is no problem.”
“You know, I learned a lot about addiction because of my dad. It’s a disease, Curt, and if you don’t already have it, then you’re so close you can’t see straight. We need to go home and talk to your mom and dad. They can help. Trust me.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll both stick with you,” Stuart said. “The thing is, we all know about it now, me, Leah, your mom and dad. So you don’t need to pretend anymore. Doesn’t that take the load off, old buddy?”
Strange, but it did feel good. If everyone knew, then there was nothing to hide, nothing to lie about. Before I could answer, Leah and Stuart helped me to my feet. My legs ached from being cramped up in the cold. My head throbbed.
A bright orange sunrise colored the sky as my friends walked, one on each side of me, towards home.
Orca Soundings
Orca Soundings is a teen fiction series that features realistic teenage characters in stories that focus on contemporary situations and problems.
Soundings are short, thematic novels ideal for class or independent reading. Written by such stalwart authors as William Bell, Beth Goobie, Sheree Fitch and Kristin Butcher, there will be between eight and ten new titles a year.
For more information and reading copies, please call Orca Book Publishers at 1-800-210-5277.
Other titles in the Orca Soundings series:
Bull Rider
Who Owns Kelly Paddik?
The Trouble with Liberty
The Hemingway Tradition
One More Step
Kicked Out
Refuge Cove
Sticks and Stones
Death Wind
DAYLE CAMPBELL GAETZ is the bestselling author of more than half a dozen books for young readers. Her book Mystery from History was short-listed for a Silver Birch Award. Dayle is a full-time author and creative writing instructor. She lives in Campbell River, BC.
