Still With Me

She took me back. She still hoped I could change. She still loved me then. What a cruel disappointment it must have been for her to see me slip back into my madness. She must have suffered. And the kids. They must hate me.

Suddenly, Jeremy heard a knock at the door. His first instinct was to open it, but as he started to turn the knob, he hesitated. What would he discover next?

Jeremy resigned himself to the inevitable and opened the door.

“Finally! Were you sleeping or what?” Leaning against the door jamb, a young man was catching his breath. He wore faded jeans, a T-shirt that said, “Be mine,” and a pair of silver sneakers. He had long auburn hair that contained traces of old hair dye. He walked over to the bed and flopped down. He stretched out, flung his arms to the sides, and stared at the ceiling.

Jeremy stood motionless in front of the open door.

“Hey man, close the door. How long are you going to stand there?”

Jeremy obeyed passively and stood leaning against the door jamb.

The young man was still panting. “Holy shit, you’ll never guess what happened to me. I was followed by the cops. They must’ve been tipped off.”

He sat up on one elbow to better tell his story. “Picture this. I was leaving my place, totally cool and everything. I mean, when I say cool, I mean I was a little messed up after the craziness last night at your party. Then all of a sudden, I knew something was wrong. My sixth sense, right? So I look across the street, and I see these two guys in this crappy car. I mean, shit, only cops hang out two at a time in shitty cars. Why haven’t those motherfuckers figured out that two guys in a car, no matter what, is immediately suspicious? Okay, anyway, I said to myself, ‘Marco, they’re coming for your ass.’ But I didn’t panic. I started walking all cool and all, thinking about the best way to get the hell out of there.”

Excited, Marco jumped up and started to act out the scene. “I mean, shit, I still had at least fifty thousand dollars’ worth of blow on me. Can you imagine? And I knew I had no time to lose because those two weren’t there to check my papers. They were there to pick me up, for sure. They got a tip, I’m telling you.

“I heard them start their car behind me. And that’s when I realized I had an advantage. They were in a car, and I was on foot. You get it, dude? We’re in Montmartre! You see what I mean? How you gonna get around in a car on those streets? They probably thought I was gonna help ’em out by getting in my own car and letting them follow me to my first stop. A cop’s wet dream, right? Okay, so I turn right, and I just start running down the Sacré-Coeur. Two hundred thirty-seven steps. That’s more than a car can do! And after I shook ’em, I dove straight down this little street I know. They were probably just getting out of their car. Holy shit, what fucking idiots!”

Marco burst into hysterical laughter and looked at Jeremy, nodding, waiting for his reaction. “Come on? Nothing? Don’t worry; it was a while ago. Nobody followed me, I swear.”

Marco sat back down on the bed, and his face became serious. “Okay, fine, I wanted to ask you something. You’re the only person I can ask. You’re cool. We’re friends, right? And you wouldn’t fuck me over. Not for money, anyway; you have more than enough.”

Marco kept his head down, waiting for some encouragement from Jeremy. Jeremy couldn’t stand there much longer saying nothing. But he couldn’t admit he didn’t understand a word of Marco’s story either, or that he didn’t even know who Marco was.

He decided to play the stranger’s game. He’d have time to figure things out later.

“What do you want from me?” he asked quietly.

“Okay…So…I can’t go home with the blow on me. If they catch me with it, I’m screwed. So…I wanted to leave it with you. Then later, I’ll go home. If they’re there, they’ll take me and grill me. They can always hold me for interrogation. But between the cops and Stako’s men, I’ll take the cops every time. And so then, if I keep my mouth shut and I don’t have anything on me, they’ll have to let me go. I’ll tell Stako to send one of his boys over for the stash.”

“And why would I do that for you?”

Marco looked surprised. “Why? ’Cause you’re my friend. ’Cause I helped you out when you were in the loony bin. I thought it was obvious.”

Jeremy couldn’t believe it. He hung out with this creep! He was his friend, his accomplice. A light shudder ran the length of his body, and he wanted to laugh. A laugh that, if he let it out, would have ended in a sob.

“Okay, fine. Leave me the…blow,” he stammered.

“Thanks for having my back, Jem. You’re cool.”

Jeremy smiled at the nickname. It was the same as the life he lived: ugly and short.

The young drug dealer shoved his hands under his T-shirt and extracted two packages of white powder.

“You can taste it; it’s the best. But don’t fuck around. Don’t go snorting half of it or throwing a party on my tab, okay? Or you’re gonna have to settle up with Stako,” he said, eyeing his merchandise greedily. “Fuck, there’s seriously enough for fifty thousand bucks!”

Suddenly, he sat up. “Okay, cool, I’m gonna jet.” He stood and handed the packages to Jeremy.

“Put them away. Don’t leave them out. I’ve seen the savages who come through here. You’ll get a call sometime before tomorrow. One of Stako’s guys. Oh, yeah, and so you know it’s the right guy, he’ll ask if you know the score for the Lyon-Paris match.” Marco burst out in hysterical laughter. “I love it. It’s like a bad gangster movie.”

When the young man closed the door, Jeremy felt terribly alone, the victim of an incredible story with a momentum of its own.

In his confusion, he knew only one thing: He couldn’t lose Victoria and the kids without a fight. He had to organize his thoughts. Resume his story and search for clues. He had a hunch and needed to follow it, whether that meant finding himself or losing his mind. He didn’t have much time. A few hours. A few hours of reason in which to resolve years of madness.

Jeremy made his way back to the apartment that he remembered from what was at least two years earlier. He stood in front of the building door before deciding to use the intercom.