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Authors: Tiana Laveen

Tags: #Fiction

In the Nick of Time (47 page)

BOOK: In the Nick of Time
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Chapter Fifteen

“Y
ou’re the type
of man my parents warned me about.” Taryn rocked forward ever so slightly, dipped her clear plastic spoon into her cup of warm applesauce, and swirled it around as they sat side by side on the dark timber bench just outside the facility. Swirls of thick cigarette smoke wafted past his nose from a resident standing not too far away, the patient looking lost, glowering into the distance. It was a cool day, but felt damn near spring like compared to the previous weeks of unrelenting, bitter cold. They took advantage of the lucky break in weather, for it was virtually impossible to not wish to be out and about and receive tender, heated kisses from the sun as her rays filtered through bare branches of vast trees. He shifted a little in his seat as the wind once again carried over a wave of the cigarette odor and wrapped him up in hazy familiarity. It was all too memorable; another habit he’d let go of simply due to it being no longer convenient…

“I’m the type of man your parents warned you about, huh?” He smirked as he tapped the top of the bench to an unheard beat, his arm outstretched behind her, his fingers lightly caressing the back of her graceful neck.

“Yup.” She simpered just so, never looking away from her sweet snack. She just kept swirling it around and around, making sluggish designs in the fruity mush. The client with the cigarette smashed the thing onto the ground, tossed the butt into the trash, and heartily stomped away as if he’d had a fucked up morning, leaving the two lovers in isolation. “Thank goodness you don’t do what you’re told.” He laughed lightly as he circled her chin with his thumb, immediately swooping in on their newfound alone time, daring to look her in the eye and become hooked on her seductive ways.

“I’m a rebel without a cause.” She paused, then they burst out laughing at her own witticism.

“So silly…” He shook his head, turned away and leaned forward while clasping his hands tightly together. They remained quiet for an instant or two, and then three and four more.

“You know I’m graduating soon…” He glanced over his shoulder at the woman, watched as she lifted the spoon to her luscious lips, and slid the tip in while her throat bobbed as she swallowed the sweet dollop.

He turned away, looked down at his hands and nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“It’s in three weeks…”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m missing you already…” He heard her spoon sliding around the cup; the plastic container must’ve been empty by now but she kept on, as if her continuous stirring maneuvers would make more magically materialize.

It had disappeared…all gone…and it was missed…

“Don’t.” He shook his head and looked to the far left. In the distance, he could see speckles, light and shadows, cars moving back and forth along the busy road. He imagined the people within them to be on their way to work, their coffee containers in the counsel area of their vehicles and the heat on low, or possibly not at all. Maybe they played music, or spoke on their phones, or simply thought and reflected, taking their freedoms for granted, grumbling about having to be up so damn early, complaining about a career they detested. This was the human experience, the existence of one’s very soul trapped in the confines of the flesh. He’d never thought he’d mourn the city noise and bumper-to-bumper traffic. He now relished it, for the sounds of people and their ‘toys’ meant that they were alive…and life was to be respected, coveted, and appreciated. He took a deep breath and cast her a glance, matched with a small smile, the best he could muster.

“Let’s just make the most of this time together.”

“Yeah, yeah… I agree, Nick, but I’m still going to miss you.” He turned away from the living doll and peered upwards towards the sun.

“I think you already know how I feel about this,” he murmured then looked over his shoulder at her once more. “Look,” He swallowed and turned back away, leaned forward, elbows on thighs, and watched two black birds flying about in the sky. “You came here to get better, and that’s what you’ve done. It’s time to go do your thing, be free.” He sniffed, feeling the beginning stages of a cold coming on…or maybe it was those troublesome emotions trying to come take him down again…

“Free? Ha!” She guffawed. He looked back over his shoulder at her, watching the drama unroll. “Man, if you think you’re going to be free of me, you’re crazy. You’re mine.” Her eyes narrowed on him, sent a sweet, seductive chill down his spine. It never felt so good to be bossed around…

She’s a possessive little thing…

“I’m yours, huh?” He grinned a bit wider now, but tried to keep that shit to a minimum.

“Yes…you’re mine. So, while I’m out in the free world fighting modeling crime, you’ll be in here dropping a dime.” She burst out laughing again, poking fun at his rendition of the fucked up situation Frieda attempted to ensnarl him in.

“Pshhht! Not me!” He shook his head. “Frieda is crazy. I gave them what they needed and nothing more. I gave no names. I simply supplied the treasure map. I left out the part about the cameras though. The security people set them up that way so they wouldn’t be on tape for their little meetings, and you and I have benefitted from it. I can’t have us on tape visiting each other for our nightly visits, now, can I?” He laughed.

“Oh no, we can’t have that!” Taryn teased.

“Anyway, Frieda and the rest of them have to find their own solutions. She’s a goddamn idiot.” A bad flavor rolled over his tongue as he relived the bullshit proposal.

“Look, you can’t blame her, can you?” she said on a whisper, seemingly feeling sorry for the woman.

“Yeah, I can. I don’t like that sneaky sort of shit. I hate that type of thing, Taryn. It’s not cool…not cool at all. Just ask me. I told her ‘no’ flat out, but just be real about the shit.” He looked back up towards the sky and saw more birds fluttering about, circling the grounds. A few landed, poking a bit at the hard soil, searching for a morsel or two.

Spring is definitely coming…

“Right, I get that, but Frieda hasn’t been here but for a year and a half, and this has been going on for at least four or five according to some of my friends. She got in here and thought she was going to change the world. Don’t you remember being bright eyed and bushy tailed before reality came and yanked you back into the real deal?”

He looked at the woman and grimaced, refusing to acknowledge that her words held a bit of merit. He enjoyed the flavor of his anger towards Frieda, wanted to savor it a bit longer. How dare Taryn come playing the flute of the Devil’s advocate, forcing him to hear a brand, new song.

“She just didn’t know any better. Once she realized you were coming, she probably figured someone in your position would want to help. She just didn’t think it out is all; she doesn’t understand that whole ‘snitches get stitches’ mentality.” Her lips kinked in a lopsided smirk.

“It’s not even about that, because being a snitch is a good thing if you can save lives.” He sat straight, looked her dead in the eye. “It’s about integrity and me needing to feel safe. I chose this place for a lot of reasons, Taryn. One of which was that I wanted some anonymity, wanted to feel secure. I had to focus on my recovery. Now again, I’m not unfamiliar with how these places are. I’ve had too many people I arrested that were court mandated for rehab and I know even the best of the best rehabilitation centers can have problems like this. It happens, you know? But how you address it is paramount to me.

He paused briefly to rally his thoughts. “We as addicts choose to get high,” he said. “It was
my
choice to keep drinking day in and day out. It was my choice to buy cocaine once a month, and nibble off it bit-by-bit, thinking that somehow that didn’t make me a
real
cocaine user. But when a person like me chooses to leave that behind, and come to a place like this,” he pointed towards the front doors, “I expect for security, the owners of the facility and the employees to be proactive about ensuring that this sort of thing doesn’t happen; and if by some slim chance it does, they should be vigilant in their approach to stop it and ensure it doesn’t happen again. This is just fucking ridiculous…”

He turned away, feeling all warm and angry within once more.

“I hear you, baby…I hear you.” She gingerly patted his shoulder, giving reassurance, understanding him through and through. She now had to realize it wasn’t just the incidents he described that had him in such a state. He recognized that the woman understood his pain; he could see it in her eyes…

And in those eyes he also saw that she loved him, cared for him, and was his friend, sincere in all that she offered to him. He was happy as hell for her, but he would miss the fuck out of her, too. Regardless, he refused to tell her so…not just yet, anyway. He didn’t want her to feel held back, guilty, her peace disturbed. She needed to finish her process, ‘as is’, with no complications, especially from the likes of him. He’d already disrupted her center, burst into her world demanding entry into her life, her body, and her mind. He’d needed her shoulder to lie on over and over again.

He’d sucked her energy through a straw, and asked for second and third helpings while she lay there helplessly, being his willing host. He’d become attached to her in ways he’d never dreamed possible. It had become a handicap of sorts, leaving him in a state of gratitude as well as despair. He didn’t feel whole without her, but she could never know this… No, he wouldn’t anchor her, keep her all to himself.

“Let’s go back inside.” He sighed, got to his feet. She slowly stood and removed her empty cup from the bench. Pausing, he looked down at her and opened his mouth to speak but only to find she said the exact same words at the exact same time.

“I love you…”

Today is the
day Ma took me to the roller skating rink. I was five. She took me to the Roxy in Manhattan. I didn’t know we were in Manhattan; if so, I would’ve asked her to take me to see my father. I thought Manhattan was where all the men lived… MANhattan…get it? I was silly like that…

The memory put him in such a good mood, he was practically leaping about … in the vein for fun and games. Tonight, he hid from himself behind a partition that led to the miniature bathroom, then he leaped out in front of the full-length mirror in his room, bursting out into hysterical laughter as if he didn’t see himself coming. He was feeling damn good, and he couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so alert, alive and happy. Was it the nostalgia? Had to have been… all those lights at the Roxy, all the people skating about, moving to the loud music. He was cuddled close to some of the best things he’d experienced in his entire life. So, he went along Reminiscence Lane in a happy-go-lucky sort of fashion and dug up an oldie but goodie…

BOOK: In the Nick of Time
13.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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