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Who said that?
“Grab his feet,” Mickey told somebody. He had my upper body. Luckily we were at Stokes’ apartment which was close to several downtown hospitals.
I was struggling to breathe. Heart beat? Almost non-existent. They loaded me into Mickey’s car and drove the three blocks to the city hospital. They were frantic.
“How’s he doing?” I could hear Mickey’s frantic voice in my near comatose state.
“Same,” Stokes replied. They were the only two of our friends who came. The others bailed. The car stopped with a jolt. I didn’t know where we were. “We’re leaving him,” Stokes told Mickey.”
“Leaving him where?”
“In front of the ER doors,” Stokes replied. “Love Ronan to death but not getting into trouble for him. I have my career to think of man.”
“Stokes, you are a dick,” Mickey replied.
I felt cool air on my face when Mickey opened the door. Then I was being dragged across the seat. They were carrying me a short distance until they laid me none to gently on the hard concrete in front of the doors of one of the busiest hospitals in downtown Cincinnati. They just dropped my ass in front of ER doors and scrammed. Funny thing, it was the same hospital where my older brother, Liam Moore was an ER doctor.
My luck that night held true to form, he was working.
“Hey, you can’t just leave him,” a man shouted. “I need an orderly and a gurney.” Two fingers pressed to the pulse at my neck. “Better hurry. This one has no pulse.”
I could hear the wheels of the gurney clicking against the concrete as they wheeled it outside to me. Two men threw my ass on it. Funny what you can hear when your death is gripping you. Wanting to take you away. “Damn, he’s a big mother fucker,” they griped. “Almost dropped him,” one said. I didn’t feel it. I was out of it but I could hear them. I had already convulsed twice, once at home and once in the car besides barely breathing or having a nearly non-existent pulse.
“Another junkie,” they sneered at my dying, overdosed ass.
Not me. I was no fucking junkie.
At first, it felt had like pure bliss when the shit hit my bloodstream. All my worries disappeared. I could see why people were so addicted to this shit. My body felt warm and safe. I was mellow and chill. I was one happy mother fucker.
My friends had convinced me to try it just this one time. Never again. We would return to our pot or coke habit. Just this once. It wouldn’t hurt. I was pretty disciplined with my coke habit. Smoked weed on a regular basis. Could go without the coke for months. I could do this. I was a dumb fucker.
So what caused my reaction? The shit was bad that they gave me. Not that they knew it. It was laced with something that was used to put down an elephant; I found out later. I was first to try it. First to convulse. Only one to get dropped in front of the hospital where Liam was on duty.
Even in my state, I could hear him. His panic. “That’s my brother,” he said to someone. Then he was slapping my face. “What the fuck Ronan? What did you take?” Not like I could respond even though I could hear him.
My clothes were being removed. “Needle mark, left arm,” somebody said. “You need to call your parents Liam.”
Shit, was I going to die? I’m only twenty-seven years old. This is going to kill my mom. I can’t die.
**
I didn’t know what the hell to do. I couldn’t call Mom and Dad and tell them, hey guess what looks like Ronan OD on something. Most likely Heroin. That wasn’t news you shared over the phone with your parents, not with Declan Moore, my father. I called Jamie, my twin brother who also lived in Pointe Royal.
I could hear in his voice when he answered the phone that I had woken him from a sound sleep. “Moron, do you know what time it is? Seth and I have to be onsite at six a.m. in the morning,” he snapped at me. He had no life. I had no life. Our other two brothers were married to O’Halloran girls. One was beautiful and sweet, Aine. One was sweet and sassy, Ryan. Apparently Ronan thought drugs were the path to take after busting his ass in law school. I was at a loss for what had possessed our little brother to do heroin.
Seth was our cousin, Sophia’s husband. He worked with Jamie and our dad, Declan as electricians for Dad’s company which was thriving. They were so busy they worked every Saturday right now. Dad hadn’t gone to college, neither had Jamie but he had always done well for himself. Seth and Jamie were doing pretty well too.
My other brothers were the triplets, Ronan studying law. Fionn took over the farm that had been in our family for generations. He and Aine, his wife is expecting another baby. Their first, Gracie Lou was turning two soon. Ciaran and Ryan were content with their two little angels that are not quite so angelic. They had their hands full with the twins, James and Annie. Both identical twin girls. Then Sophia and Seth had two little girls. Two-year-old Charlotte, one-year-old, Asia. Not sure of Sosie’s second name choice but what a beauty she is. I have to admit the girls have me wrapped around their little fingers just like their moms.
Back to the shit storm, my brother Ronan has caused. “I know what time it is Jamie. Man, I don’t even want to tell you this over the phone.”
“What is it?” He asked. I could tell my twin was now sitting up. He was awake and listening to what I had to say. This was bad. This was something the Moore family had never dealt with.
“Ronan was left in front of the ER doors tonight. Possible drug overdose.”
Jamie laughed. “Yeah right. You asshole, you woke me up with this bullshit. I have to work tomorrow.”
“Do I sound like I’m kidding. You need to head over to Mom and Dad’s and tell them. He’s bad Jamie. They don’t know if he’ll pull through. You guys need to come down here.”
