Crackhead (16 page)

Dink didn't know what put him off more, her nonchalant attitude toward him or the way she left him there speechless. Either way, he was entranced.
I'm gonna make her love me,
he thought.

M
ARGARET HAD NOTICED
a change in her daughter, and her intuition told her that they needed to have a heart-to-heart. Laci had been keeping late hours and missing school. She refused to go to the doctor or talk with her mother. The first thing Margaret thought of was that Laci might be hiding a pregnancy, although Laci was adamant about not having a boyfriend.

Worry had definitely taken a toll on Laci's mother. She found herself snooping through her daughter's things and even trying to listen in on her phone conversations. It seemed to Margaret that Laci was no longer hanging out with Tonette and her friends. So when Laci came sneaking into the house at three in the morning, Margaret was on the case.

Margaret didn't approach her at first. She wanted to let Laci think she had pulled it off again before she burst her bubble. When she thought Laci had settled in. Margaret went into her bedroom and found her about to change into her pajamas.

“Mom, why are you still up?” Laci said, startled and a little
disoriented. Attempting to hide her condition, Laci smoothed her hair and tried to straighten out her clothes. She had been out half the night trying to score a decent blast. Margaret looked Laci up and down and wondered what had happened to her daughter. Laci's hair looked as if she hadn't run a comb through it in days, and her clothes were wrinkled and stained. Considering that Laci didn't even like to wear clothes from last season and would die if her hair was out of place, a red flag went up in Margaret's head.

“Where have you been?” Margaret asked sternly.

“I was out . . . out with a friend.”

“Really,” Margaret said, with a raised eyebrow. “Which one?”

“Crystal,” Laci said, blurting out the first name that came to her mind. “Crystal and I were hanging out in Manhattan.”

“That's funny, because Crystal called here for you twice,” Margaret said, cleverly playing along with her. “Are you sure it was Crystal you were with?”

“Yeah,” Laci continued to lie. “A couple of the other girls were with us, too. Crystal left before the rest of us. She was probably making sure that I got home safely.”

Margaret knew her daughter was lying, but she was going to see how far she was willing to go.

“Where did you say you and Quita went again?” Margaret asked.

“I don't remember the name. It was in The Village somewhere.”

“I thought you said that you were with Crystal.”

“Oh yeah, right,” Laci smirked. “I meant to say Crystal. Quita wasn't even there.”

“You know, Quita called you too.”

“Did she?” Laci said, getting excited. “When? What time? I need to call her back.”

Laci headed toward the phone, but her mother stopped her in her tracks, grabbing her by the arm. “Do you know what time it is?” Margaret said, staring at her. “What's wrong with your lips?” Margaret held Laci's face in her hands and observed her.

“Nothing, Ma,” Laci said, pulling away.

“Looks like they're scorched . . . like you've been smoking. Are you and your friends smoking?”

“N-o-o-o, Mom!” Laci said, stomping away. “Look, some of the girls smoke, but I don't.”

Laci hadn't told the truth since she stepped foot inside the house. In addition to smoking, lying had become a habit she couldn't seem to control. Riding dirty, she excused herself to flush the last flakes of coke she had balled up in her fist. Laci's mother followed her. She stood in the bathroom doorway and saw her struggle to stand upright.

“Laci?” Margaret whispered.

“I'm trying to use the bathroom.” Laci went to close the door.

“Talk to me, Laci, please.” Margaret placed her hand on the door to stop it from closing. “What's going on, baby? Come on, Laci. You know that you've always been able to talk to me. That will never change.”

“Fine, Mom. Cool. We'll talk,” Laci said, trying to get rid of her. “Just give me a second to use the bathroom.” Margaret removed her hand, allowing Laci to close and lock the door. Laci held her hand over the toilet and hesitated. There were only a few flakes left, but it was enough to numb her pain. Laci ran her index finger through it, then rubbed the coke across her gums.

“Laci, are you okay in there?” Margaret asked through the closed door.

Laci closed her eyes in shame. No way could she could poison herself while her mother stood on the other side of the door. She took the little bit of coke that was left, poured it in the toilet, and flushed it. It hurt like hell to watch her get-high disappear, but this was just the beginning of the heavy price she'd have to pay for living a double life.

“I'm okay, Mom,” Laci called back. “I'll be out in a second.”

Laci washed her face, splashed water on her messy hair, and slicked it down with her hands. She wanted to give the appearance that she had it together, but the mirror didn't lie. Laci opened the bathroom door and found that her mother hadn't budged.

“Laci, I'm so worried about you.” Margaret followed her to her room. “What's going on? You missed the last three weeks of school. Graduation is next week and you haven't even begun to prepare for your trip to Puerto Rico, or college for that matter.”

“Mom, I'm just tired,” Laci said, rubbing her forehead. “You know, ever since I caught the flu I haven't been myself. As far as school goes, you know the worst grade I've ever gotten since kindergarten was an A-minus. I'm graduating. Don't worry about it. Everything is fine.”

Margaret wasn't naïve; she knew there was something more to Laci's story than what she was saying. “Are you cold?” she asked, touching the goose bumps on her arm. “You're shivering.”

“No, I'm fine,” Laci said, examining her arms. “I don't know why I'm trembling like this. Maybe I'm cold. I don't know, Mommy.” Laci began to laugh, even though things were far from funny right now.

“All right, Laci,” her mother said, sounding as though she
was about to throw in the towel. “Like I said, I worry about you. You've been hanging out a lot and I can tell that you haven't been eating much. You have to start eating square meals. You don't want to fall dead out there, do you?”

“Don't you think that's a little extreme, Mom?” Laci said. “I'm not gonna die just because I'm not stuffing my face every five minutes. Besides, I do eat.”

“We need to start taking better care of you. I want you in tip-top shape for your graduation. Your father would be so proud of you. I know he already is.” Margaret hid her sadness with a smile. She paused. It was time to get to the point. “Laci, are you taking any drugs?” She couldn't find an easier way to ask this difficult question.

“Why would you ask me that?” Laci asked defensively. “Do I look like I'm taking anything?”

Margaret dropped her head and sighed. “Answer my question, Laci.”

“Mom, I can't believe you,” Laci said, flipping the script. “You know how important fitting in with my friends is to me. Is it because I've been hanging out a little more than usual? That doesn't mean I'm doing drugs.”

“This just doesn't sound like you, Laci.”

“Well, it
is
me, Mom. People change.”

“I'm so disappointed in you right now.” Laci's mother's words were filled with emotion.

“Mom, I swear to you,” Laci said, walking over to her mother and gently placing her hands on her shoulders. “You have to believe me.”

“Okay,” Margaret said with a sigh, giving in, but still not feeling totally at ease about the situation. “If you say so, then I have to believe you. Here, let me help you into bed.”

“Mom, I'm almost eighteen,” Laci said, throwing her a friendly look. “I can put my own self to bed. I'm not a baby.”

Margaret quickly pulled Laci to her bosom and hugged her. “You will always be my baby. Sleep well, Laci. I'll make you a big breakfast in the morning. I want you to stay home and rest up this weekend. No excuses. And you're going to school on Monday?”

“I don't know, Mom . . . I'll try,” Laci said.

“No, Laci. You
are
going to school. If you aren't able to go to school, then you sure in hell shouldn't be able to run the streets. Maybe I should call Dr. Stevens and tell him to make a house call, since you're so sick.”

“Fine, Mom, I'll go to school on Monday.”

“That's what I thought. Good night, baby.” Margaret smiled.

“Good night,” Laci said as she watched her mother head toward the door.

Laci watched her mother leave her room and closed the door behind her. It eased her mind to know that she had gotten her mother off her tail. Waiting until she swore she heard her mother's head touch her pillow, she picked up the phone and quickly began to dial.

“Hello, Quita,” Laci whispered into the receiver after Quita had answered the phone half-asleep. “It's me, Laci. How much money do I need?”

F
RANTIC, LACI SEARCHED
for a place to light up after exiting the nearly empty subway station. She couldn't wait to smoke the rest of Dame's work, but she wouldn't dare do it on the streets. If the police rolled on her, they might take her drugs. She had one other option, but she didn't like it. Not long ago, a friend of a new smoke buddy hipped her to a spot where she could get her mind right if she was ever in the area. Laci couldn't remember the building number, but she'd know it if she saw it.

After crossing her way through Harlem, Laci found the building she was looking for. It was right off of 137th Street and Seventh Avenue. She hiked up the stairs of the front stoop and headed for the door. Finally, Laci had somewhere to smoke in peace. But just when she thought she was home free, she ran into her uncle.
Where in the fuck did he come from?
she wondered.
I haven't seen him in forever and a day.
The only reason she even recognized him was because he was the spitting image of her own father.

“Laci?” he asked in shock.

“Uncle Sonny?” Laci replied.

“What the hell you doin' around here, baby?” his eyes begged to know. “Yo' momma know you hanging on a dope block?”

Laci smiled innocently. “Hey, Uncle Sonny. I was just coming from a friend's house. She lives in this building.”

Sonny looked at Laci as if she were crazy. She was standing in front of a dope spot trying to match wits with a professional liar. Sonny had been a junkie for more years than she had been alive. He could tell by the way she was fidgeting that something was wrong. He looked into his niece's eyes and saw her monkey.

“What's the real deal?” he asked. “I've been around for a long time. You think I don't know one of my own?”

“Uncle Sonny,” she began. Laci thought for a few seconds. “Why would you think that? Do I look like a drug addict? I'm just tired. It's late. And, what are
you
doing here?”

Sonny stared at his niece, trying to get a line on her. Truth was he had been a dope addict since 1965. It cost him everything, most importantly his relationship with his mother and his brother, Jay. When confronted by his family, Sonny left and never came back. He wasn't there for his mother's funeral, or for his brother's college graduation, marriage, or death. Margaret was big on family and for years snuck behind her husband's back, sending Sonny money and keeping tabs on him. It was she who paid for his rehab and set him up with a boarding house. Clean for a year, Sonny had woke up that morning with a jones he couldn't shake. After a day of work at the supermarket, he traveled to his old hangout to see his old friends, but mostly to score his first hit in a while. Seeing Laci squashed all that.

“What's your friend's apartment number?” he asked intuitively.

“Uncle Sonny,” she said, sucking her teeth, “I'm not going to tell you that so you can go bothering her, trying to check up on me. It's late and people need their sleep. Speaking of which, I better get going myself.”

“C'mon,” he said, putting his arm around her. “I can't let you go off by yourself. I'll go with you.”

“No, Uncle Sonny,” she protested. “I'm okay. I'm good. No need for you to do that. You just go on.”

“Why you gettin' all excited?” Sonny asked suspiciously.

“Like I said, I'm just tired. Can't wait to go home and get me some sleep.” Laci let out a fake yawn and stretched.

Sonny knew damn well that Laci wasn't telling the truth and that she didn't have any friends in this area. He was looking around to see if there was anything that would give him an idea of what she was really doing there when a known, local crackhead walked by and greeted her by name.

“Hey, Laci,” the crackhead said.

“Hey, Angel,” Laci replied as Angel strutted away, switching her ass like she was the baddest bitch on the block and always would be. Laci had heard that back in the day she was the finest girl around the way. But now she was a strawberry . . . a bum.

“I gotta go,” Laci said. She lowered her head and walked off. Sonny called behind her, but Laci kept going.

“Hold up,” Sonny said, catching up with Laci and grabbing her by the hand. He looked down, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He didn't want to look in his niece's eyes again. He didn't want to see that look, but he had to.

“What is it, Uncle Sonny? I gotta get home.”

Sonny lifted his head and looked into Laci's eyes. “Looking into your eyes is like looking in a mirror, girl. I had that same look, too, back in the 'sixties when I started using,” Sonny said
in a deep, sincere tone. Laci moved her lips in an attempt to respond, but Sonny raised his free hand to keep her from speaking. “Don't talk. Just listen. I know what these streets can do to a girl like you, Laci. I've seen it. Hell, I'm a grown man, and I know what these streets have done to me. Some things I'm too ashamed to even admit . . . can't even face myself sometimes. And I don't blame your daddy for havin' nothin' to do with me.”