Delicate Rain

by Mitch Goth

  The meeting with the wholesaler took place in a large warehouse across the city. The neighborhood seemed to be full of these tall, mainly windowless structures. There were no cars on the streets, no people on the sidewalks, the whole area seemed deserted.

  Ben and Rain entered through a small side door and walked into a massive room that seemed to take up most, if not all of the warehouse. Besides the group of people near the center of the room, the whole place was empty. There weren't any trucks, no boxes, not even pallets to put the boxes on. It was just a small handful of people and the lights hanging off the ceiling.

  "Ben," one of the men in the group greeted the duo, obviously the head of the men he was with, "who's your friend?"

  "This is a friend of mine, and temporary business partner," Ben explained.

  "Temporary business partner?" the man chuckled. "She's just a kid," he turned his attention to Rain, "who the hell are you?"

  Rain hesitated in responding. Nothing about the man seemed to stand out as frightening. He was tall, but lightly built. His face was gruff, but his expression seemed oddly innocent. There was nothing scary about the man, but Rain was slightly intimidated anyhow.

  "I'm his temporary business partner," Rain answered after a while of silence. "Didn't you hear it the first time?"

  "I heard it, I'm just a bit surprised is all," the man replied. "Vin knows I don't work with people I don't know. I know Ben, but I have no clue who you are, so who the hell are ya?"

  "Just tell him your name," Ben suggested at her. "That's the only way we're gonna be able to do this."

  "I'm Rain," Rain finally answered the man's question. "I'm only here to help sell the stuff Ben's got."

  "Nice to meet you, Rain," the man replied with hardly believable courtesy. "People call me Deacon."

  "Well, there we go," Rain nodded. "You know me, now let's get this going."

  "All business, I like that," Deacon smiled for only a moment before bringing up a new grievance. "But, I can't help but wonder why Ben needs your help to sell me Emeralds, I've bought 'em a thousand times before. I don't really need a sales pitch at this point."

  "These aren't Emeralds," Rain explained, a smug grin coming across her face upon seeing Deacon's surprise.

  "Wait, are these Vin's project?" Deacon looked to Ben.

  "Yeah," Ben nodded, a smile also growing on his face, "its finally done. And its in mass production now."

  "Well I'll be damned," Deacon laughed. "How much you got?"

  "Two thousand pills," Ben brandished the bag and tossed it to Deacon. He caught it and immediately began looking it over keenly.

  "What the hell? They're orange," he observed, confused.

  "Color doesn't matter," Rain spoke up. "Orange, blue, purple, green, whatever it is doesn't matter. It's beautiful."

  "Beautiful huh?" Deacon looked back up at them. "Well what's the going rate for two thousand beautiful orange pills?"

  "Forty thousand," Ben answered, anxiety instantly taking over him. It seemed like Japanese to throw out such a large number in a deal with Deacon.

  "What, pesos?" Deacon scoffed. "You can't be serious. I only gotta pay five grand for a bag of the Emeralds. Where's my room for profit?"

  "Selling at twenty-five a pill, you'll make ten grand profit a bag, and those bags will go fast, trust me," Rain answered before Ben could.

  "Oh really?" Deacon said skeptically. "And how would you know people would pay twenty-five dollars for one pill?"

  "Because I'm the only one who's had that stuff before," Rain explained. "And let me tell you, one pill is worth thirty-five, forty, maybe even fifty bucks."

  "You've had it already?" Deacon looked back down at the bag. "Well then, tell me what is it like? What exactly am I buying from you here?"

  "You're buying the best night of your life," Rain painted a mental picture as best as she could. "Every night can be the best, better than the last. Everything is amazing. Lights turn into paint brushes, the sky becomes something out of an abstract art piece. Colors blend together in the sky, every light you see becomes part of it. Its even better at clubs, the same thing happens, only with neon colors, lasers, and glowsticks. And the wind, oh the wind," Rain laughed sweetly at the recollection. "You haven't lived until you've hung out of a car window high on that stuff in that bag. Its electric, it hugs you, it takes you on a trip all your own. You can go to heaven and back ten times and not leave the car."

  Deacon's eyes were now planted on the bag. "Does this stuff have a name?"

  "Delicate Rain," Rain replied.

  "That's quite a story," Deacon didn't sound convinced.

  "Try it," Ben suggested. "There's enough there."

  Deacon finally looked back up at them, suspiciously. After a moment of thought he opened the bag and pulled out a pill, being careful to seal it all the way again before focusing on the orange triangle in his hand.

  "Prepare for one hell of a time," Rain snickered.

  Not wasting another moment, Deacon shot the pill down his throat and swallowed it. He stood for a second, looking at the two of them, waiting for something to happen.

  "What the hell is this?" he scoffed. "I don't feel anything."

  "It takes a second," Rain calmed. "It'll come on smooth, and it'll stay there."

  Rain was prepared to continue explaining it, but then she saw it. Deacon's eyes began shooting around the room, his fingers twitched, already numb and heavy. In no time his eyes were fixated on the lights on the ceiling. They weren't anything special, all the same color, but Rain understood the amazement.

  "Well?" Ben wondered.

  "Its," Deacon sighed, looked away from the lights, "its...something else for sure."

  "Worth every penny?" Ben asked hopefully.

  "Its...damn," Deacon laughed lightly. "But forty large is a big commitment. You gotta understand where I'm coming from."

  "I knew it was too high a price," Ben groaned at Rain.

  "I've got an idea," Rain said slyly, approaching Deacon. She could see the men behind reaching into their jackets, preparing for the worst. She was inches away from him before he even realized she was there. For a moment they both just stood still and stared at each other. Then Rain implemented her plan. She puckered her lips and blew a fine stream of air across his face.

  Deacon immediately took several stumbling steps back, clearly overwhelmed by some sort of euphoria. His knees shook and the bag slipped from his grasp, but it was too well sealed to break open. Two of his men had to hold him up to keep him from falling.

  "What'd you do?" one of them asked, still holding his gun.

  "I gave him a bit of wind," Rain explained simply.

  "Jesus," Deacon moaned, "Jesus fucking Christ."

  "Yeah, exactly," Rain said. "Couple that wind with brighter lights, movement or dancing, and music. And remember, outside that wind never stops. How about now? Is it worth every penny now?"

  "Um," Deacon collected himself enough to stand on his own, "yeah," he nodded before turning to his men, "pay the people. Forty large."

  "You've gotta be kidding, Deacon," one of them replied in disbelief. "Those pills are goin' to your head. Forty is an insane number for those."

  "No, no its not," Deacon assured. "Its the best damn deal I have ever seen. Now shut up, do what I tell you to do. Pay those two every cent they deserve, and somebody call Vin, tell him he's gonna be a Goddamn billionaire."

  "I thought the exact same thing," Rain laughed softly.

  "What the hell is this stuff called?" Deacon wondered, forgetting he'd already gotten an answer. "Its gotta have a name, and I've gotta know."

  "Delicate Rain," Rain replied, smiling at Deacon's lapse in remembrance.

  "Delicate Rain is amazing," Deacon sighed comfortably. "Heroin ain't got shit on this."

  "I wouldn't know," Rain shrugged as she watched one of Deacon's men walk by her with two tall stacks of cash in his grasp. He handed them off to Ben, who looked at Rain with an elated expression bubbling up in him
.

  "We're in business," he chuckled, obviously overwhelmed.

  "Damn right we are," Rain looked back at Deacon, who was back to looking at the lights, mesmerized. But he quickly looked back at her.

  "Wait a minute," he slurred through his words, "I heard about some blonde kid runnin' off from where those two KC Devils got killed."

  "I figured you'd find out sooner or later," Ben sighed.

  "You heard about that?" Rain looked at Deacon, surprised he'd heard, and even more shocked he recalled it in his current state.

  "Oh, yeah," Deacon laughed, "its the talk of the underground. You got those guys good, a real bloody mess," he snickered.

  "Its just some nobody biker group, who cares?" Ben scoffed, not finding any importance in the conversation.

  "Don't underestimate them, Ben," Deacon instructed as seriously as he could. "They've grown a lot in the past few months, they're not so easily rolled over anymore. I'd suggest keeping some eyes in the back of your head."

  "You think?" Rain inquired, now much more concerned.

  "I know," Deacon replied, stumbling over himself, barely keeping himself from falling. Even in his less than sober state, Rain could tell he was serious. He stumbled back once more and was caught by his still vigilant guards.

  Watching Delicate Rain's progression only made her want it more, crave it, need it. His words echoed in her head, 'heroin ain't got shit on this'. Now it was more apparent than ever. Maybe not in the effects, but certainly in the addictiveness. Rain saw this clearly, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to care anymore.

  19