Vida Nocturna Part 17

Iggy fumbled with the safe, removing something. He closed it again, and then there was another sound. She knew it now. He was checking a gun.

Iggy let Neil into the entry area, leading him through the curtain to where she was. Neil laughed. "Having a little party here?" Another chuckle from that direction was obviously Cameron.

"Got the cash?" Iggy's voice came from over by the table. There was a kind of thump, probably a duffel bag being set down.

"I gotta count it," Iggy said. A zipper unzipped.

Footsteps came closer. Neil's voice was right in front of her. "Looks like you're a little busy tonight. Anyone I know under here?" He pinched her nipple.

Iggy came over, knocking his hand away while Neil was still pinching hard. She made a choking gasp as the pain radiated.

"Get your own," Iggy said. There were a couple of quick shuffles of feet; maybe Iggy had pushed Neil over toward the table. "I shouldn't even deal with you little p.e.c.k.e.rheads anymore since you got rid of that other one. You still haven't made up the extra volume he was doing."

"Yeah? We will," Neil said. "'Cause when we get rid of someone, he stays gone. Our share of the market's still getting bigger. And anyways, you're still making money."

Iggy made some kind of hissing sound. The stacks of money made a fan-like sound as he flipped through them.

Joe's red couch barely fit along the wall. Nosferatu gleefully peered down at Renfield. Or maybe he was looking at Alexander's scale, happy Sara had used the spare key to fetch it from the trunk of the abandoned Four-Four-Two. Three ounces of cocaine sat next to it, waiting to be bagged.

Seeing them made her back muscles spasm and her face get hot, remembering Iggy's belt. The time before that he'd just sold her the c.o.ke just like she was any other customer. It was part of the game, not knowing what would happen when she walked through his door.

Renfield looked sad without his red light. "Sorry I took it again, buddy," she said, bending to look at him through the gla.s.s. The ether dropper was still wet in her hand. "I shoulda got you a bigger cage when we moved, huh? But you should be proud, Renfield. You now live within walking distance of Michigan Avenue shopping." She rubbed her left elbow, numb as always and a little sore from moving boxes around.

The lizard stared straight ahead. Sara looked around the little apartment. "Okay, it's tiny. And it's a bas.e.m.e.nt. And it smells like ether. But it's all ours and I'm paying for it myself. I'm somebody now, Renfield. I'm worth something." She sighed.

The red light shone down on the plate, just a few steps from Renfield's cage, but it probably didn't warm him very much. "It's supposed to be twenty-four hours, little guy," she said. "Think you can wait that long?"

But crystals were forming on the plate already. She leaned closer. The crystals were right there at the edges. How could it take twenty-three more hours to dry them? She blew across the plate.

She swiped the dropper across the plate, spreading out the ether so it would dry more quickly. She blew again and again, the heat stinging her eyes, but more crystals formed.

It's working!

She slid the dropper back and forth in the center of the plate until the entire surface looked dry. She sc.r.a.ped the crystals with a razor blade and loaded the pipe, finding the lighter with her outstretched fingers. She flicked the lighter as she brought the pipe up to her lips.

Before she could suck down the fumes, a strange heat rushed over the hand holding the pipe. Her hand automatically dropped the pipe as the nerves in her fingers started to send the signal to her brain. The ether was burning! It had mostly evaporated, but there must have been some residual vapors around the crystals! The pipe shattered on the countertop as it burst into open flames.

The fire was almost completely invisible, with only slight hints of blue and orange at the tops of the flames, but it was real. Heat blew from the countertop past her face as if she'd just opened an oven, and the m.u.f.fled whoosh of the flickering flames resonated like a jet flying at a great alt.i.tude. How could so much fire come from that residual ether?

The can! The cap was still off! The pattern of blue and orange flickers went up its sides as fumes tumbled down from the open spout at the top.

They burn their way inside, the can becomes a bomb ...

She wrapped her hand in a dishtowel and pushed the can toward the sink. It spilled as it moved; the towel smoldered as the can dropped down into the basin, dumping ether and roaring into a huge flame. She whipped her hand in a circle, unwrapping the burning towel to let it drop on top of the can. It blossomed into the orange flames and smoke she'd always a.s.sociated with fire. She couldn't turn on the sink! Flaming ether poured out of the can and down into the drain.

Leaning sideways to avoid the fire, she managed to hit the hot water tap with her fingertips and get it to turn on. A thin line of water trickled down into the mix but the fire burned on. How long until the cupboards and wall caught, too?

The heat burned Sara's face as she leaned more, trying to push the tap farther open. Her fingers hooked the hot water tap. A steady stream of water poured into the sink, soaking the towel and extinguishing most of the flames. She opened up the cold water tap as well and the fire's heat disappeared. She tipped up the bottom of the can and watched the remaining ether drain away with the water.

f.u.c.k it. I'm done with freebase. From now on, I'll just get by with powder.

Smoke and steam filled the apartment, along with the medicinal reek of ether fumes. Sara opened the drapes and the window that looked out to a brick wall, breathing the warm night air in through the screen.

And n.o.body to call. Not Angie, not Josh, not Alexander.

She went back to the counter, s.n.a.t.c.hing her purse from next to the plate. She'd put it in there when she'd changed that day after work.

She removed her pack of Salem Lights from the purse, lighting one with her lighter as her other hand still felt around in the purse.

There!

The matchbook. And inside, Miguel's number. But it was around four in the morning, and it was rude to call someone this late ...

She dialed the number.

Miguel answered after the first ring. She recognized his voice.

"Miguel?"

"Yes?"

"Um, did I wake you?"

"Who is this, please?"

"It's Sara. From Vida Nocturna?"

"Oh, hi, Sara. It is nice to hear from you."

She smiled. "I'm sorry to call so late. You must think I'm crazy or something."

"It's all right. I am awake. What do you need?"

"I'm, um ..." She stared at the ether can in the sink. "Well, I'm standing in my kitchen and waiting for the smoke to clear out. I just had a little fire here, and I'm trying to calm down. Oh, jeez. I am so sorry to call you like this. I am a f.u.c.king psycho. I'm so sorry."

"No, It's okay, really. I don' mind."

There was another pause.

"I ... I guess I'm just really lonely these days, you know? All my friends keep disappearing."

"Mmm. That's no good, Sara. You have to have friends, you know. You have to keep trying to make friends."

"I know. But it's just ... it's hard, you know? I ... I don't trust people anymore. I've just seen too much, I guess. I don't trust anybody."

"I seen a lot, too. An' I don' trust too many people neither. So I understand that. But, hey, you know. I can be your friend, right?"

"Yes, you can." Sara tried to sound jovial but it still came out flat. "I hope you can, anyway. Thanks, Miguel."

"I like having someone to talk to. You know, my family, they are still in Mexico, except I got some cousins ..."

She stared at the ether can, her mind replaying the whole process of making base. An image appeared in her head: the white stuff that formed when she added the baking soda to the solution of c.o.ke and water. That was the base. The ether made it pure by re-dissolving it and then evaporating away, but the white stuff floating in the water was freebase cocaine. It melted without burning, so if she tried to smoke that stuff the vapor should still mostly be pure c.o.ke, even without the purification step. If she could filter that stuff out some other way, she could dry it and still smoke...

She did a line to clear her head.

"You okay, Sara?" Miguel asked.

"Oh, yeah. Just a little messed up from having my place almost burn down. Did you know I moved?"

"No, where do you live now?"

"I'm over by Michigan Avenue, you know, where the shopping is?"

She got some c.o.ke and one of the drinking gla.s.ses she'd brought over to Alexander's place long ago. Then she went through the process, adding c.o.ke to water and then adding the baking soda solution until white stuff stopped appearing with each new drop. Instead of adding ether at that point like she always did, she stuck the dropper into the vial and used it to collect all the little specks floating in the solution. Once the dropper was full, she emptied it into a small dish and placed the dish into the microwave.

"Oh," Miguel said. "Maybe I come visit you sometime. Sounds like a good place."

If a lighter could make freebase evaporate without ever touching the inside of the pipe, would the microwave turn it to vapor the same way? She set the microwave for ten seconds.

"Yeah, you should see it," she said.

Nothing happened. She set the microwave for twenty more seconds. The tiny bit of water in the dish began to boil. She opened the door.

The conversation went on like that. Miguel said something about his place. Sara wasn't sure what he'd said. "Mmm," she replied, hoping it sounded appropriate.

After gently heating the thickening liquid that way for what seemed like days, she opened the microwave to discover that solid, milky-yellow-colored lumps had formed in the dish. She sc.r.a.ped the bottom of the dish with the razor blade and turned it upside-down, dumping several hard pellets on her countertop.

"You know, Miguel," she said. "I'm just so embarra.s.sed for calling you in the middle of the night like this. I think I should just let you sleep. We could both probably use some sleep, don't you think?"

He laughed. "Sure. You can try to sleep. I talk to you some other time."

"Okay, thanks, Miguel. Thanks for everything."

"Sure."

She hung up and pinched one of the pellets between her fingers. Water was the only solvent she'd used. No ether, so no big fire.

Her pipe was beyond repair, so she used a doubled-up wire twist-tie from a baggie to push one of the smallest rocks deep into the tobacco of a cigarette. She loaded up on oxygen and flicked her lighter. The little rock crackled as the tobacco around it burned, and Sara breathed in. Mixed with the smell and taste of menthol cigarette smoke was the unmistakable essence of pure cocaine vapor.

Sara shuddered with the familiar pleasure. She'd done it. The high wrapped its fingers around her brain and she let herself melt onto the kitchen floor.

Sara twisted her purse between her hands. The c.o.ke in her bloodstream kept her from being scared but it did make her a little twitchy. And when doing a deal with Benny Downer in the alley behind the club, being twitchy was an especially bad thing.

"Seven bucks a pill? That's a lot," she said.

Benny Downer's dead eyes stared through hers as he gestured at the club's back wall. "I see you slingin' in here every d.a.m.n night," he said. "What's seven bucks a pop? Anyways, take it or leave it."

"Would you trade some c.o.ke for 'em? I barely make enough to pay my rent right now ... I got sort of an equilibrium going, where I just make enough, you know?"

"c.o.ke? s.h.i.t. Everybody got c.o.ke. Don' need that. You don' wanna do business, I'm goin' back inside." He turned away.

"Wait! How about base?" His eyes turned back to her. She shuddered. Removing a little baggie from her purse, she pinched one rock, handing it to him.

"Base? This ain't base. Can't just carry base around."

She nodded. "It is. Really. Take that, try it. I'll give you that one. And let me know if you'd trade for some downers, okay?"

Benny wandered away, peering at the rock in his hand. Sara watched him go, leaning up against the wall to keep herself from falling over. Her nerves and muscles were all sending the same signal: Impending Shutdown. But that was impossible. Shutdown would be impossible until she got those downers. She'd proven that by staying awake for the past couple days.

She took a step, and then another, still palming the wall for support. She stopped to rest. A tattered newspaper fluttered beneath her with the headline "President told: Keep Star Wars."

Back inside. More deals, more money, more c.o.ke. Always more.

The bottle of Beam. A couple of Benny's pills.

Wait, wait. Coming down's too hard if the pills haven't kicked in. Too bleak. Bleak as life.

She fondles the pipe, breathing deeply. The calm evades her. She takes another pill.

She flicks the lighter, watching the flame, waiting. Her heart flutters when she brings the flame near the pipe.

Not quite yet.

The calm begins. Just a tiny bit. She loads up on oxygen, warms the bowl, inhales. Sweet chemical fumes. The pleasure is muted, but hopefully the blast wave of hopelessness will be, too.

Eyes. At the window, at the corners where the shades fail to cover completely. She stands, pushes it shut. It hangs again, gaps. She peeks. The eyes are gone. For now. She spits on the window and pushes the shade into the spit, sealing it but wasting whatever vapors her saliva might have collected.

She pivots, facing the room. Every shadow is a chasm where someone hides, watching, waiting.

Every tiny crevice holds a microphone. They listen. They watch.

A floorboard creaks above- someone leaning to put an ear there.

She holds the shotgun, staring at the ceiling. It's what they want. They know you'll do it. It's a trap. She shuts off the last remaining light.

Squatting on the floor with her back against the wall, she watches, she listens, stroking the gun like a pet.

Her eyes burn. A presence. Here. Something here in the dark, silent, invisible.

She stays frozen, her heart deflating, her nose running, her eyes tearing.

Her mouth hangs open. Her fingers go numb. She pumps a sh.e.l.l into the chamber and flips off the safety.