"She's a Wild One," Part 5 Excerpt from "Inside Your Shadow" (C) 2025

 "So how's Lil Nicky doing?" He asked. He was wearing a long sleeve black shirt that had an eyeball on the chest part. "He's fine. Just got him in daycare. Can't stay long, got him in his crib. Hopefully, he won't climb out of it." She replied. Then he got up and walked down the hallway to a small fridge about two feet high and a foot wide. He kept it at a temperature of about 45 to keep the batch fresh. Had a padlock on the door-he kept it there thinking that if he ever got raided the cops wouldn't be able to get in it. She heard the key go into the lock. Heard it twist and unlock. And this was her moment of happiness for the day. 

She was calculating the time the whole high event. She'd have a conversation for no longer than ten minutes. Then maybe two hours in the backroom, "The Waiting Room," is what he called it. She could never remember his name. He was super nice. Told herself he actually cared about her with the questions he asked. Questions about her childhood. Questions about school days. Questions about her job. She told herself that was the reason she kept coming back. He was her intimate friend. One of the only ones in this world who actually cared about her. They were having the usual talk about how to get money from her abusive husband. She had the most convincing story. She had said it so much she had it memorized. While he was telling her again for the countless time, "You know you can go to the police station. Tell them he assaulted you. But you better have some bruises or something as evidence of his abuse." Then he threw the bag filled with an off-white powder. 

She dug in her pocket. Pulled out a crumpled twenty dollar. "We gonna need more than that," he replied as he took the bag off of the glass table. He stood up, walked into the kitchen. She heard the sink water faucet run into the small pot. Heard him take a spoon out of the drawer. Heard him take out the portable stove eye. She didn't know that he laced it with fentanyl. And she dug in her pockets mumbling, "Damn it," She knew she had no more money. Hoped she did though. She'd probably have to do him a favor. She watched him set the small pot on the stove eye. Stared at the water till it came to a boil. He was talking about something. But the words seemed muffled. She smelled the joint he lit. Passed it to her. Seemed unconsciously-how she could grab it. She took a long pull. Heard the fiery crackle of the stems and seeds. She pulled out a pack of Marlboro menthol. They saw that she had only smoked two out of the pack. A pack that cost about four dollars, She placed the crumpled twenty on the table.

"Baby, you got to relax," he said. He didn't even look at the twenty-dollar bill on the table. She finished smoking one. Took another one out. But her hands shook so bad she was almost unable to light it. "It had to be something in the weed," she thought to herself. She had a dreadful premonition that she was about to face a fear she had never faced before. 

His hand seemed freakishly large when he put the syringe over the liquid and drew it in. He held her right arm firm. She wanted him to stop until she felt the sting. then she felt the warmth, then she felt numbness, "Baby we gotta get you comfortable." She remembered she told Nicky the same thing, as she set him back in his crib and left for the Narcotics Anonymous meeting. She could barely walk. He guided her into 'the waiting room.' He set her down on the bare mattress. She looked up at the ceiling fan. Thought about that peculiar eye on his t-shirt. The eye seemed to open and close on its own. Here eyes felt dry. It felt like she couldn't close her eyes: One Night of Many.