Sorry it took so long to get this next post published but I was almost finished with it already but accidentally deleted it while laying it down for a minute. I was sick about it because it's a poignant picture of how far drugs will put a person. Bad situation? Just add drugs--instant tradegy. It's no joke, just say no.
There once was a couple who dabbled with a few different things that each carried it's own risk of death. They were both alcoholics, both meth addicts, he was literally psychotic and she was crazy for staying with him and even more so for bringing her 12yr old along for the ride. So excessive booze, speed, mental illness and abusive behavior, that would be the cocktail. One evening they we're staying in a cheap motel and they called their hookup who presently showed up. She was sitting in her car getting her tools of the trade to bring in. She looked up and saw him frantically waving her into the room. Hurriedly she got her stuff and dashed inside thinking that something was happening that she might not even want to stay to see. As she rushed past him he shut the door behind her and resumed his position at the window. "What the hell is all the rush about? Is the law involved in any way?" the hookup asked. "Oh no." said the girl staying in the room said whose name we'll call Anita. "Not the law, something more serious." Anita replied. "Really? Something more serious than the law? What on earth is more serious than the law?" the hook inquired. "Tell her Tim. Tell her about the injustice earlier." Tim just shussed Anita. "Yes Tim I need to know about any potential danger hereabouts." The dealer pressed Tim to explain. Finally Anita said "Tell her Tim, tell her about the little men who came in under the door and stole your Papa Roach cd."What?" the lady said, "The little men? Really?" She said and immediately began to put all her tools up and got ready to leave. "Look, I am all about taking care of people and that's exactly what I'm going to do. No more for you two tonight." She said not unkindly". "You guys need to lay it down when little men begin to appear and take anything away, that's what I always do and it's my policy not to give anything to anybody else who might be having trouble with the little bastards." With that the lady picked up her things and walked out the door.
I tell you that so you'll appreciate the extent that meth will twist the mind of people who might be dealing with even mild dementia. Now for the real story.
The couple holding the drugs came in from Dallas one weekend. She was the witness to the "little men skitz". And every since that day, she had been uncomfortable doing business with Tim. But her newly freed husband was all about the dollar. He never listened to the concerns from his wife about who to trust and who she had heard bad things about. He behaved like a "baller" and wasn't going to be told how to sell dope advice from anyone. Especially not from his old lady. So she had no authority over who got what. Her husband was the shot caller.
So it was that they pulled into the isolated little white house that fateful night. They pulled up to see Tim and Anita "squared off" as if they were boxing. Some sort of liquid dripping from her hair. The wife of the dealer got out of the car and said "What's this? The fights?" Anita turned and went up the stairs into the little house, the woman followed her inside. She could hear Tim roar his drunken hello out to his hookup. Inside the two women went into the kitchen and sat down. Evidence of a night of hard drinking was apparent. Anita, using her fingers to wipe through her wet tangled hair spoke in a monotone. "Tim threw a cup of beer at my face right before you guys pulled up. For no reason." The lady from Dallas reached across and with one finger lifted a strand of damp hair out of Anita's weary face and sighed. Then she spoke "Girl, this is so unnecessary. Let me put you into a motel tonight. It's no problem. But you guys will just keep on fighting when we leave, you'll just be wired and fighting." "No" responded Anita. "I've got 6 white bars (5mg xanax) and I'll just take a couple and go to bed." The Dallas lady frowned. "If you were gonna do that you'd have already done it by now. No you're gonna have your hand out as soon as we drive down the driveway, probably sooner. Yall are what? Drunk, high, pilled out and now going to be wired? Please let me get you a room somewhere. I'll make my old man hook you up. Tim seems wild eyed tonight." "No" Anita spoke flatly "I'm not going anywhere. I've always been the one who leaves, but not this time. I'm not leaving my home again. Enough is enough." she finished. Truth be told, the lady dishing out advice had only met Anita about four times in all and scarcely was one to issue out life direction in light of her own train wreck history. She pressed one more time to try to help the wild eyed woman. "Are you sure about the motel? You guys are in the middle of nowhere. Your 45 minutes from the nearest store. Please reconsider." Anita firmly shook her head. Dallas sighed. "Your call. I don't like it." And they both stood. "Are you about ready in there?" the hookup asked. "Yes, I think so." his wife replied as she came down the little stairs into the garage. The hookup and his wife headed to the car together. Both got in and got everything arranged to "roll dirty" as safely as possible. As he began to back out sh raised her hand to rest on his arm and asked "Did he buy anything?" "40" he replied. "Thank goodness it's not more than that. I hate that they got any at all. This is a bad scene with him knocking her around again. So whos next?" "Boss" he replied.
They drove the two hours it took to get to the "cook's" lovely two-story log home with a lake front. It even had an elevator after he had tired of the spiral staircase. It was difficult to use when on heroin, which he often was. It was around 3:00 am when the couple arrived. They knocked and we're invited up by his lovely, willowy, blonde girlfriend who was in the middle of coloring a black velvet poster. It was just the 4 of them all just into their own little skitz when the wife of the dealer's phone rang. When she answered she had to say hello several times in order to get a response. Finally she heard a whispered "Hello?" "Anita?" She asked. "I think Tim might be hurt badly but I'm too afraid of him to go see." she could hear the tremors in Anita's voice. "Where are you now?" "Outside in his work truck. I've got Nick with me." Anita replied. The dealer's wife frowned. She hadn't known that Anita's son had been there earlier. "Where is Tim now?" the woman asked. Anita answered "On the floor in the front room beside the coffee table". "What happened?" She inquired of Anita "I put my xanax in his beer. Then after about thirty minutes, he was stumbling around trying to grab me by the hair and I hit him with a long neck and he fell down and he hasn't moved since." the dealer's wife froze and her husband took the phone away from his wife. "Tell me what has happened." he said. He nodded his head and occasionally murmured "Ok" then he looked up at the assembly "The crazy bitch went and killed him."
I'm gonna post this now and finish up the story in the next post because it has taken so long to get this one done. Thanks for your time. Boots.