“I know a guy who’ll give cash for those cards. He owns a market near the rez. How much are they for? He pays fifty cents on the dollar.”
“Is it Roy’s Market?” Anthony nodded. “Fuck. I didn’t know he was doing that. I wonder if my mom knows.”
“What?”
“Never mind. My grandma’s EBT card is for eighty bucks. Will that do it?”
“You’ll still be twenty short, but I can let you slide for a blowjob.”
The memory of how the drug made her feel overwhelmed her. It would chase away the shame from that morning. She could taste the peace and euphoria heroin promised her. “Fine, but I want the stuff in my hands first.”
He took out the baggie and placed it in her palm. She clenched it and then slipped it into her jeans pocket. Her heart was racing a mile a minute. All she could think about was dropping into the mellow haze of love, happiness, and fucking rainbows.
He pulled over on a country road, switched off the motor, and slid his seat all the way back. As he unzipped his pants, he smiled at her. “It’s been a long time. I’ve missed your lips.”
“Let’s just do it,” she said as she lowered her head. She hoped he’d come fast; she needed to slip away.
***
Finally settled onthe frigid floor of the abandoned warehouse, Chenoa took out her prized cellophane packet. She’d already called her mother and made up a story that she and another student were teammates and had a project to work on for one of their classes. Her mother didn’t question her. She never did.
Inside the abandoned warehouse, the light was low and the people using were shuttered into the corners and against the walls of the various rooms. As she took out her spoon, needle, and lighter, a tall man approached her. Her heart raced and she shoved her packet back in her pocket. She pressed herself flush against the brick wall.
“Don’t freak out. I just wanna use your lighter. I lost mine and have been searching for it for the past ten minutes. I can’t find the fuckin’ thing. I need a fix so damn bad.” She handed him her lighter. “You good if I crash beside you so we can use it again?” She nodded but watched him warily as he hunkered down next to her. He took out a baggie, spoon, and needle from his jacket pocket. “I’m Nicholas, by the way.”
“Chenoa,” she said softly. She watched him melt the Mexican Mud in the spoon and then fill his syringe. He handed the lighter to her and she did the same. As she was ready to shoot into a promising vein, Anthony’s warning about the fire—the potency—in the smack she’d purchased flitted through her head. She exhaled long and slow, a thread of guilt weaving through her. She knew her parents would be disappointed if they saw her, but she needed this.I’ve been so good. It’s just this once.She pierced her skin with the cold, steel needle.
She glanced at Nicholas who was already in that special place that only heroin could offer, and then she leaned back and let the drug work its magic.
