I’ll Take it From Here (2)

I’ll Take it From Here

February 17, 2014 at 8:51pm

 

PublicFriendsOnly MeCustomStraight From The RootsNew Haven, Connecticut AreaSee all lists…FamilySelf-EmployedAmerican Desi Music & TalkAuthorAmity Regional Senior High SchoolGo Back

Can you Feel the Flow? The fluidity, I fear that each line has its own original identity. I used to dream of going to on a big vacation, poor so forget it, thought about horseback riding  instead of the Caribbean but the closest thing I got was watching pornos with sybians. Don’t say anything, but I’m beginning to sharpen, be fearful and disheartened because my body is weak but my mind is a Spartan

 

Do you feel the Anger? I spoke in Tongues, First it was direct publishing, now I’m flourishing after I mugged the industry, some people question my ability after they question my history, I answer in story and in mystery, I want to show you what Glory means to me. Your dealing with a poetic virtuoso, so much rage that I spit evil, this was the moment when I didn’t feel well, this wasn’t the life that I wanted, this felt like hell.

 

So I dressed for war, we were urban critters that blended with the dark, no west side story, but we were sharks. Billing Issues, Funerals with discount tissues, slashed tires, murder for hire, prostitution, religious institutions, the boys communicating with their hands and the self righteous Judge presiding over the witness stand. I screamed seven letter swears because I’m a beast, ravaged my moral fiber until it was left deceased, gaunt sickly body, the world is preoccupied with who is a hottie and who is a nottie, now everyone be silent for the boy with the shottie  

 

 In The clouds, they said, “Fuck the Noise, attention is the predecessor to suspicion. Don’t Look at Us For Redemption, stare at the abyss, so close to feel the flame’s tongue kiss. Grab your paper and pen, you will need it if you want this to ever end”

 

My Grandma told me it was the dreams i had to chase, to drop bombs on the horizon im so eager to erase. Ten years later murder was the case.

Assimillate the vocabulary to decimate, i told her i wanted to get my cut, she said to mutilate. If this book takes over,  Grandin can legislate. Never hesitate to pontificate, never humiliate just eliminate.

 
IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN MY FROM ANTONY DAY
TWITTER: @Anthonydaygrand 
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Excerpt from THE CITY BREAKS ITS PROMISE

Hey Everyone! I am a 20 year old author from New Haven! My first book just came out and i am excited to share the beginning with you. If it seems like something you’d maybe like please head over to The City Breaks its Promise and check it out! 

“She would always leave now and then, but I knew that this time was different. I could tell by the way she left that she wouldn’t be coming back. Without a goodbye and after a fight, my sister had left the house. She left without any clothes or belongings. She was always impulsive like that, but the fact she didn’t even bring a purse made me think this was only temporary. I didn’t want her to leave but there wasn’t anything I could do to stop her. I was scared, I sat up in my bed and looked outside my window hoping I’d see her walking up the street but she never did. I stayed like that for half of the night until I finally conceded that she wasn’t showing up anytime soon. 
I got about three hours sleep that night and woke up bright and early to the sound of my obnoxiously loud alarm clock. After I slapped the piece of shit across the room I bit my lip for a couple of minutes. After I drew blood I walked to the bathroom feeling the hangover of the rough night taking its toll on me emotionally and physically. My sister and I had argued all that night, for hours and hours about redundant bullshit. My stomach felt contaminated as I looked at myself in the mirror, my wavy hair matted and unruly. I was overreacting as usual to my sister’s rebellion, she was a grown woman and had her own life, but I had reason for my fear. 
My baby sister was my life growing up. I took care of her when nobody took care of me. I felt like I was her guardian and that I was meant to protect her through life. I had a bond with her that nobody else could have. Throughout trauma and the violence, we stuck together. We held hands, but after a while our grasp became much lighter. Sephrina and I were dealt a bad hand when it came to life. We grew up in Hunts Point South Bronx in a crack den. Essentially we were raised on the streets by the streets. I knew every scam, every scheme, every hoodlum, every trick and the one after that. All the games people played I had to take seriously in order to survive. I became so good that I made it my living; I joined up with my uncle in his South Bronx crime ring. I was teaching the old timers tricks, like how to make five dollars into three meals for the day. 
I was able to take us out of the chaos, but it was a little late for Sephrina. She had already been hurt, torn apart so many times when I wasn’t there. She didn’t blame me, her gentle heart never could but I blamed myself because I was supposed to protect her. I was furious all the time, and the only place I was able to take it out was on the job. I was in reconstruction; I was a mid-level thug with job security and the best type of life insurance the streets could buy. Working with my uncle had a lot of positives. He basically allowed me to run wild. The violence I surrounded myself with was all an analogical way of fighting the frustration I had in my life. It was clear that when I swung my fist I was fighting more than just the person in front of me. I was fighting the past, the present, the future and reality all at once. 
I came to realize I could only fight but so much, and it hit me the hardest the day my sister left. I had hoped she would have tamed her habits. I had thought for some time that maybe the world would show us mercy, but then I got my final wake up call. I had fought plenty of abusive boyfriends and made my share of threats but all of that kept me in denial. I believed that I had enough power to somehow influence her and everyone around her. I didn’t and god must have been busy because he never showed himself around these parts.
Hunts Point scared me when I was younger. Once I grew up I adjusted to it. Sephrina and I were basically abandoned so young we had to take on adult tasks before we were teenagers or else we wouldn’t have survived. We wouldn’t eat if we didn’t make the money. We dodged the government and survived in the cold hard world of facts. 
We hung out around the red light district at night to help guide tricks, assist the whores and make extra money. During the day we would go and sell candy bars on the subway, help at the chop shops, sell some weed and often we’d assist the drug dealers by guiding customers in abundance.
We had a little apartment where we’d hear some girl getting beaten half to death almost every night by her pimp and I’d hold my sister as she cried. There were about seven kids and some crack heads, drifters and bums crashing there all the time. On my sister’s birthday I was able to scrap together enough money to get her a cake and a few presents. The little party was going well. It wasn’t until about ten at night when we heard a gunshot. The woman killed her pimp and the first thought in my head was that the police were going to find us and put us into foster care. 
We packed up our stuff but it was too late, as the police came and started asking us where our parents were. I lied a few times and then tried to run away. It was a futile effort and the saddest day of my life. They didn’t split up my sister and I, instead the stuck us both in a brutal residential full of fucking nuts, kids who were already rapist, schizophrenics and raging mental cases. After about a year of that we got sent to foster care. 
It was a bleak life to live, and when I say I took us out I meant we moved farther away from the Point. The problem was still it wasn’t far enough from the chaos. I don’t know if I could have ever gotten far enough away especially on days when I was so alone. Then on the other hand, I began to feed off the violence surrounding me. My world was a time ticking bomb. 
When we grew up South Bronx was in bad shape. There were still apartments that were a sickness, terrifying and unadulterated. Crack heads with families piled into the apartments like the rent was free; somehow they found a way to pay up. The land lords never fucked around, we almost got kicked out for missing one month. My mother was a whore and my father was a failed pimp, both were crack heads. Together it took them three hours to put in a light bulb. 
So I had to find ways to pay the rent. In the beginning I tried to help my mother by rationing money and trying to help her kick her addiction, but over time my blood became cold and I lost all hope for her. I adopted the gun at that point, and after that it was a free for all. If she tried to take the money I made that day, she would face my gun. And if you didn’t stop there, I’d beat my own mother in order to save enough for my sister and me. She never had our best interest in mind. The kids of crack town didn’t play games. We’d all talk about how we were going to grow up into responsible adults who would live functional lives. Part of us all knew that was a joke. 
We would pickpocket in the City, sometimes we’d beg or sometimes steal street performer’s cash. Sometimes we’d even steal cars that were parked and drive them to the back of chop shop. One of the legal things we would do would be to wash cars and walk dogs for the old folks in the town. Those same old people would be trading their pain meds for Viagra, money and weed. 
We’d always do everything to try to find an angle to make a little bit of profit each time. That was the objective, profit no matter how small. We’d get together at night and have meal time in one of our barren apartments and fix dinner for each other. Each night that I had my sister in my sights was a good night. This was before she knew any better, it was after all the abuse but she didn’t know what was happening to her delicate body. I didn’t know what happened to mine either. 
My name was Tobick because apparently my mom’s family wouldn’t allow her baby to ever take someone else’s surname. They must have been glad that rule was in place because when my mom got pregnant at fifteen the father was some older crack head named John Manikos, my father. My mom became an outcast from her orthodox German Family after they found out she tried to have arrange an abortion. 
My Uncle Karol was my mother’s brother. He was one of the craziest bastards I’ve ever met in my life. I personally didn’t think I was anything like him. Somehow his family was very strict and incredibly orthodox, but he became a teenage Hit-Man for an German Crime outfit. Now he was the boss of Hunt’s Point, and a very valuable ally to have. I worked for him, as his trusted employee who watched over everyone else. It was mind blowing sometimes, the shit that happened around me. What I grew up around seemed like nothing to what I saw working with Uncle Karol. It was training in a lot of ways. 
I had to watch over the people and the rackets. I had to watch over everything from the drugs, the gambling, the prostitution, the sales of firearms and even real estate. He was rich, and he tried to make as much legit money as possible. He owned a construction company, a few liquor stores, two car dealerships as well as a bunch of bars and clubs. My official “job” was in construction even though I had only worked a few hours in my life.
The day after Sephrina left, I was supposed to be overseeing a drug deal but instead I called out. I had to figure things out as soon as possible because I was in frenzy. I left the house early even though I spent at least an hour staring at the wall. But once I snapped out of my trance, I was able to get out of the house. I decided my first stop would be to see an old friend who knew everything that went down in Hunt’s Point. 
Cardinal, was a drug addict and a loyal customer and was also the unofficial overseer of the city. If he didn’t know something, he knew someone who did. It was amazing, especially since he spent so much time in his room shooting up. I remembered when he was clean and a decent member of society. The one thing that attracted my friendship to Cardinal was he always respected my sister and he showed respect to me. 
When we first became friends I was a shaky sickly boy of fifteen years. We met the day after my Uncle picked us up from Foster Care. My uncle started me young dealing drugs and my first deal was to Cardinal, who was my age. He mostly just smoked weed and did some coke at that time. So I got to know him through all the deliveries I made for him. He lived in a posh apartment in Manhattan so it wasn’t to long of a long voyage. He would tip me a couple hundred dollars and sometimes I’d even smoke with him. 
Cardinal got his name due to his fiery red hair. He was the classic redhead with very pale skin and freckles. He was skinny and tall since I knew him years ago, and he grew to tower over me. His family was very religious and Cardinal was sacrilegious so it wasn’t working out. They beat him for swearing and he had to study the bible for four hours a night after homework. He couldn’t take it anymore and I didn’t blame him, so he escaped their grasp during high school and we moved into an apartment together. As I said before, Cardinal and I had a long history. 
Even years later he only lived a few blocks away from my house, and it took me about ten minutes to trek down there. The apartment building was a little run down, but the rent was cheap. For the most part I paid the rent and every other expense Cardinal had, the landlord could care less where the money came from as long as he got it. It was that guilt thing again that got me, plus if I didn’t pay the rent Cardinal would be on the street. 
I didn’t do him many favors. Basically all I did was feed his habit. I was a conflicted enabler. I knew that I wasn’t in to deep at that point, but that I had to rescue myself I got caught or killed. 
The cold air hit me hard that morning when I left my apartment. I put my hood over my head to prepare for the walk. I decided to check my waistband holster, which held my stainless Remington R1. After I fixed my shirt to hide the gun I noticed a group of bums across the street walking. It was Harris, Morten and Tommy. They probably just left the homeless shelter and were on their way toward the liquor store. I saw Melissa pushing her baby carriage across the street. They were both bundled up. I waved to her but she didn’t see me. She lived on the second floor of the house I lived in. 
I had purchased my house four years ago with all the legitimate money that I had. It only cost a couple hundred thousand and I paid the mortgage just like any other normal person. It was a three family home and I lived on the first floor. I collected rent, installed central air and made sure that everything was taken care of. I had become friends with everyone that lived in the house with me. They always heard my brutal arguments with my sister, they heard the time I pushed her onto the ground and when I destroyed our glass coffee table. They heard all of my regret. 
I thought about my sister more as I walked through the streets. I felt so tired because I hadn’t gotten any sleep, I felt sick because of the combination of everything. I had a headache and a few cars passed blasting music which didn’t exactly help. There were a group of bums with big padded coats walking across the street. A few kids were riding bikes and in the corner by a garbage can a fiend was shooting up. 
I laughed as I walked up into the apartment building. I skipped up stairs as quickly as I could towards his third floor apartment. Once I was on the third floor I cut in and went to the first door on the right. I banged on it loudly to make sure he could hear it. Knowing Cardinal he was probably sitting there with his eyes red after an all-nighter. 
“Cardinal its Spiro, let me in,” I said as I heard a door unlock and open. A woman was leaning out of her apartment, she glared at me viciously. 
“Why are you hitting the door so god damn loud!” she snapped. 
“Fuck off,” I growled. I matched her glare, I outdid it actually. She looked at me and then closed the door. The message must have registered with her. Then I turned my attention back to Cardinal who was in the doorway laughing. He was only wearing some tight briefs which offered a pale view. “Why don’t you put some god damn clothes on kid?” 
“This is my house, don’t nobody tell me what’s good in here. You know that my dude,” said Cardinal as we shook hands. He led me into his apartment. He stopped for a second and turned around to look at me with his hands in his underwear. “Why you here so early, dude. Yo I got to tell you dude I had a crazy night. First I fucked this crack whore on the couch so I was like, and I thought wow, like this is gonna be a great night.” 
“What does this have to do with me?” I asked. 
“She gets me off and all I can remember is her undoing the belt on my arm right? But then I woke up a little later and I find that all my gear was gone. She took everything, all the pills too. I couldn’t believe it, I’m sorry but that was out of my hands ya know,” said Cardinal pinching his nose and sniffling. His body was covered in sweat and it smelled straight like body odor. 
People like Cardinal often irritated me, they wanted to be part of the drug culture so bad but when they get to deep they’d retreat and expect someone else to come and rescue them. It bothered me, but I tried not to allow it to affect unhealthy friendship we had. 
“Listen, go and take a shower man. Please you smell awful,” I said with my head down examining the disgusting apartment. Cardinal nodded his head and walked over to a mound of clothes. He grabbed a towel, a pair of underwear, a shirt and pants. I could tell he had been going crazy that night, most likely smoking coolies. That story of his was bullshit, the reason he made it up was because three days ago I had given him some Ecstasy pills to hold on to. Sephrina was around and I had to find a place to hide it so she wouldn’t sell them for dope. Cardinal had a tendency to fuck up and I basically ruled out those pills anyway. My hunches were usually right with him, and this one was that he had freebased a lot of cocaine and then decided to take a few of the pills after he sold the rest to his friend Ike. I sat there thinking about it and decided to look around for stuff. It didn’t take my long into my search to find a watch, so I took it and pocketed it. 
His apartment was very small for one thing, and there was trash almost everywhere. He had a small kitchen area in the front, while there was a miniature table on one side which had Chinese food containers, pizza boxes, needles, condoms and a knife on it. On the opposite side of the narrow kitchen space was the counters and the stove, which had all other types of miscellaneous shit all over. Following the horrid kitchen was the Bedroom and living room area that had a glass coffee table and a bed. That was it for the apartment, beside a small bathroom
I heard the door open and Cardinal came out the bathroom rapping “Started from the Bottom” obnoxiously while drying off.
“You want a line?” asked Cardinal basically naked beside the little towel. 
“No I don’t want a line, listen to me…Listen to me god damn it! Put the fuckin mirror down and listen to me!” I hissed. He put everything down and looked up at me with concerned eyes. “My sister left again last night and this time I know something bad is going to happen if it hasn’t already happened by now. It’s been a almost a day man.” 
“I’m sorry I didn’t know,” said Cardinal shaking his head while sliding on his cargo pants and a black t-shirt. Few moments later he came over to give me a hug and I laughed as we embraced. It was a short hug because I kind of pushed away eventually as hugs weren’t something that I enjoyed. He walked back over to his couch and put on socks before grabbing a pair of yellow Nike Hyperdunks. 
“Yeah, so I came over here to see what you’ve heard,” I said with my arms on my hips and a grim expression on my face. He looked at me with a weird expression and I knew what he was thinking. “Don’t insult me like that man, you know I came over here to give you your shit. So don’t insult me by looking that way holding out on me. Do you understand me?” 
“You know I would tell you everything I knew, I just wanted to ask if you could help me get through?” he pled. 
“You know I will, don’t I always man. Here take everything I’ve got,” I said throwing him a package which was in my sweatshirt pocket. It had about five grams of Cocaine, some oxycodone, ecstasy and a balloon of mud tucked inside. 
Cardinal was a dumpster fiend, a cabbage head or a trash can addict. He didn’t care what he was getting high off of, he just wanted to get high no matter if it was glue, Ether and in his worst of times snorting Lunesta. Most of the stuff I’d give him, I wouldn’t give him Ether or glue, but the other stuff I’d supply. As I said before I felt guilty, but I didn’t want him robbing old woman because he would. Plus I gave myself reassurance on a business level by keeping in mind that he gave me a lot of information on the streets, so I justified everything by saying I was paying him. He was my friend, he used to be my best friend but I worried that I was losing more than just my mind.” 

IF YOU’D LIKE TO READ MORE PLEASE HEAD OVER TO http://www.amazon.com/The-City-Breaks-Its-Promise/dp/1490724095/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1390674109&sr=8-1&keywords=the+city+breaks+its+promise

Bus Ride

There is a bus ride, that I take in the morning

Sun Rises as I’m yawning 
They say you can make a story out of anything

So let me write this song, you can sing

I’ve got sun in my eyes on this bus ride, feeling some breeze with the water in my eyes

Intercepting the life, but it’s not a pick six 
Siting next to an old woman who smells like the death sticks

Life is a blessing, driving across from blessings

A Chinese restaurant, the food is a blessing

Time that I’m missing, money that I’m pissing away

That’s why I had to ride the bus today
Next to shady characters, looking very hazardous

Life right now feels like swing or miss

I’m close to my destination, but I’m living and breathing underneath procrastination

And now I’m looking at skyscrapers that I blame for corporate mechanisms and greed

But they are institutions and programs that I use and need 
The bus ride is an eye opening thing

You feel like a peasent but theres no reason you can’t be a king

Self worth thrown into the mix and the devil gets his kicks

But life transcends large houses and cool bling

You are creatures, who…

Ride the bus, and if you want feel free to join us

Moses

    It was a cold night in New Haven but for Moses it wasn’t so bad. He had been homeless for about five years, during the day walking around Yale and searching trashcans of expensive restaurants. He would sometimes sit and play his guitar and sing. That was his main source of income, people loved to listen to him play and sing. They would drop him five dollar bills or tens, they would give him food and other random articles of clothing. He wasn’t drinking or doing any drugs, so they treated him different. Sometimes Yale students would talk to him and call him an urban legend.

            He had been since he got on the streets, he had saved numerous people from being robbed and had always been as a form of a superhero. There was a time when a woman was being raped in a dark nasty alley near the old bar that shut down on the outskirts of Downtown. Moses came to the woman’s rescue, beating the man mercilessly and then waiting until the cops came before disappearing. He didn’t want any notoriety, nobody call him a hero. That’s not what he was as he roamed the dark airy night streets of New Haven. He was a monster.

            Some nights he’d walk by the old liquor stores that he used to practically live in. He recalled those days so bitterly, him in a three piece suit laughing with the other drunk “Bastards.” Moses had the idea that there was some reason that he would exempt from being punished by the cruel world. His name was biblical and he was brought up believe and praise all those things he was told. It was a cushion in his life, one that at time threw him off guard.

            Moses would usually sit down on a seat that was left out on the orchard street “Strip” across from all the pizzerias and restaurants. Some nights he’d simply drift around thinking about the past that wouldn’t let him go. The real problem was that he didn’t understand anything about his life but he understood the world around him. It was the only place that he felt at all human. Being in a house caged in wasn’t what was meant for him. His activities and lifestyle led to what was left of his friends and family calling him an animal. Maybe that’s what he was? A true human being, he was the animal that rejected all the corporate synthesizing that allowed overindulgence, greed and eventually their untimely demise.

            Moses had spent all that time alone, moseying around and the only thing that kept him company was his cat Jonas. Jonas lived behind his campsite, which was on State Street right in between the ramp to the highway and the thrift shop. Moses had called that home for almost all the years that he had lived on the street. He had it set up nice and the cops didn’t mess with it because they knew that he kept it clean and did well by the city.

            That night on a random note he had decided to walk up to Scrap Yard in Mill River and see if he could find any scrap metal from the dealer that would open up for the bums. It was the ultimate place for barterers, bums and bargainers who were up at two in the morning. Moses had his cart prepared and it had a small radio with some earphones hooked up in the carriage. He was listening to 70s Hard Rock and experimenting with some Pop hits while he walked past the Mobile Gas station.

            The traffic was scarce to say the least, and Moses took advantage of that walking much faster than normal. He even started to get into the music, so he brushed his long gray hair back so that the earphones he found in the garbage would fit better. He had a couple of other pairs in the pocket of his trench coat that he also found in the garbage. Moses was a man of simple pleasures, flashiness didn’t matter to him. As long as something worked it was valuable to him, he had even gone to the point of being a borderline hoarder. He didn’t mind, Moses believed in the value of true life.

            So as he walked up upon the dimly lit dead end that was known as Mill River Street. There were three large multifamily houses on each side of the road, and on the left side there was a lot for the abandoned company Max Supplies. It had been gone for years, but no one bought the building nor did anything for the lot. Across the way from Mill River Street there was a bar called Hanson’s known for its fights, underage drinking and promiscuity. Moses had heard of three dead bodies on Mill River Street in the past year but the numbers were more around eight.

            “Look there is Clark Kent, my man!” howled one of the men standing outside the vacant lot. He was staggering with a bottle in his hand, he seemed to be drunk. Moses received the name Clark Kent when a group caught him reading a superman comic book. It was something he had only done a few times, as he had never been a fan of comics, animation or anything of the sort. He accepted the Clark Kent nickname because he didn’t want anyone to know his real name, Moses Floyd. It was a name that was known through New Haven and even Connecticut, a name known of evil and a wretched existence. It was something he didn’t want to live with, so instead he was simply Moses or on some occasions Clark Kent.

            “Did I miss anything?” asked Moses as the man shook his head and took a swig from the bottle.

            “Nah you didn’t miss a damn thing, half the folks ain’t even down here yet. Come and get a bottle, oh that’s right you don’t drink ain’t that right boy!” yelled the same man whom Moses finally identified as Static. Static always forgot that Moses didn’t drink, and Static was one of the few people who knew who Moses was. He didn’t say anything out of respect. Despite his drunken state, he always remembered to never talk about Moses’s past.

            “Now you know I don’t drink,” muttered Moses laughing for the first time all day as he pushed his cart over and shook Static’s hand. “When are these people getting here?”

            “I have no clue but they run the show, we are just two bums waiting for the curtains to come up. How has your day been otherwise there? Gone to any telephone booths?” asked Static cracking up into laughter. Moses looked at his eyes which were bloodshot as he barely had a grip on the bottle he held.

            “Stop being so loud, someone will call the police on us,” said Moses whisking his friend over to the entrance of the warehouse which was open. “Why are you out here, it’s so cold!”

            “Typical guy, it ain’t cold when you got this much liquor in your gut. Man I could basically die right here and now, but nobody would care. My family is sleep at home, finally getting a good night sleep because I’m out here half dead. They wonder why you would have to go out there?” said the Static with his eyes and tears running down his cheek.

            “Ok static let it out,” said Moses patting Static’s shoulder. There was a time when he wasn’t as level headed and was seeking guidance and couldn’t find it at the hall of an Alcohol Anonymous meeting. When he was wandering the dark wet streets with a bottle, belligerent and angry, there was no hand to be placed on someone’s shoulder. It didn’t make him feel any better about himself, but part of Moses believed if he kept doing the good deeds his demise would be less painful.

            “I said them last night crying, on one knee, I said listen I love you both babies. But I have to go out and make money for the kid, I can’t just lie down next to your fat ass all fucking day and watch Steve Wilkos!” screamed Static. Moses grabbed Static’s arm and brought him into the warehouse. Sometimes the cops would be called and then nobody would make any money. Moses knew he had to pick up some metal and he had just enough money to fit into his cart.

            So he walked into the warehouse next to static and was greeted with an arousing applause. Everyone loved Moses except for Moses, as he seemed like the guy other guys wanted to be. He didn’t have good looks, it was more of a moral thing. Few beside Static, Moses’s daughter, wife and a few family members knew of the horrid secret he was hiding. Few thought it had any validity, so Moses was forced to exile himself in punishment rather than allowing himself to live a comfortable life after wrongdoing.

            “Yo Moses, bring any bread today brother!” asked Lucky Louie, a fat Italian bum who always loved the bread that Moses would find. One day Moses and Louie were walking around Fair Haven when they gave out bread at Gianni’s, a upcoming restaurant around the way. Moses and Louie spread the word, and ever since were paid in bread and sometimes cash to clean the store. Most of the time their appearance was rugged and unappetizing, each sporting large unwelcoming beards and heavy coats for the winter chill.

            “Moses you’re probably the poorest motherfucker here, on account of the fact you don’t get disability so I’m going to give you the best piece for today,” said Carmine, the owner of the racket. Two of his guys Luca and Mickey set the scrap metal into his cart. Often Carmine didn’t charge, he let some of the merchandise go in return for certain favors that he would call upon quite often. He had a set of bums, Moses, Louie, Connolly, Samson and Maxwell. This was it wasn’t charity, and the bums were loyal and would hear about anything on the street immediately after it hit the pavement. Carmine saw it as an ample investment.

            “Horse shit!” howled Maxwell who was in the corner smoking a joint. He was laughing as he said it, Moses became worried once he heard that he’d have to fight another bum but it was different then on the internet. For the most part they all worked together, it was the drugs and the drink that brought them apart.

            “Yo Moses, I keep telling you each time you bring your ass in here to fill out that paperwork. I got this great doctor, excuse me Max but he is this nigger from Philadelphia. Ya know, where I grew up? His pops gave me work so I kind of do the same, but he became a doctor. Much smarter then I could have been,” said Carmine with his hands on his stomach.

            “You can say that again,” grumbled Moses.

            “Hey fuck you! I’m sitting her busting my ass trying to get you some extra cheese and here you are hogging the prosciutto. You rat fuck you, don’t look at me like that!” howled Carmine. He had an abrasive way to him, constantly looked angry and at risk to blow your head off. If you weren’t hardnosed, tough or just naturally insane it was hard to handle him. Luckily Moses was a mixture of all three.

            “You just mad because the brother probably stole your bitches, and the money out that motherfucker,” said Maxwell with a high laugh. Nobody else found it very amusing. Maxwell got a handshake from Samson who had shared a few hits from the joint but that was it.

            “Hey! Hey, what did I tell you?” yelled Carmine pointing at Maxwell, who grabbed a container of air freshener and sprayed it everywhere. “You can smoke that cheap shit here but you better spray every three minutes, not just when I tell you. Spray! Come on, spray the fucking can it’s new so give it some juice,” ordered Carmine with his eyes flaring up.

            “You want to me come down with you Moses, make sure nobody robs you on your way?” asked Mickey with a reassuring smile. Moses shook his head and then turned the cart around.

            “Hey! Remember I get ten percent of that cut, that’s the deal every first of the week when I call you guys in here that’s what I get. You can’t have the salami and also get the smoked prosciutto,” insisted Carmine shaking his head. Moses nodded his head and gave a somber wave goodbye as he left the warehouse with his shopping cart. He only had about two or three pounds of scrap metal but it would be enough to get him through the day. Most would be crazy to go through New Haven in the middle of the night with a couple dollars of Scrap Metal, but Moses was well known through the order. At least through the parts he was going. He only had to walk about ten minutes to get to his apartment which was a couple of blocks off the Worthington Plainview Park.

            As Moses left uneventfully he started to feel something in his stomach. He needed to go to the bathroom after only being able to in the Mobile Gas Station. As he walked along the bridge he felt lights which were burning up his insides. As he started to feel sick he reminisced on the days when he had a functioning toilet and bathroom as a kid. He missed those days and realized he would do anything to get back there, but he started to beat himself up for doing all the wrong things to travel the opposite way.

            It took Moses a couple minutes and to be only two miles from his house to realize he had heat on him. He farted and burped when the sirens flashed on, literally scaring the shit out of him. He raised his hands as he heard shouts and hollering behind him, he knew the routine as they brought him up against the car and smashed his head on the hood. As he heard all the police procedure he realized that it was just another day to Live and Die in New Haven.

Remy Santana: To Live and Die in New Haven

January 6th

 

            “Look at this fucking guy Rem, I’m telling you I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. The man is a pederast, if you don’t believe me and do something about it I will,” said Ricardo fidgeting in his seat. Remy started grinding his teeth looking at Jonathan, one of the workers at his grandmother’s retirement home.

            “I don’t like this place man, it’s creepy as fuck,” said Hanley. Ricardo, Remy and Hanley had each sniffed a several lines of cocaine before they had gone into the New Haven “Jewish Home”. They were all being loud, covered in a dense layer of sweat and in Hanley’s case he had some cocaine on his nostril.

            “You got a little something there, nah right there bro,” said Ricardo pointing to Hanley’s nostril. He nodded his head, wiped his nose with his finger and shot the little particles up his nose. Ricardo rolled his eyes while Remy had his fixated on Jonathan. He had on high pants, he wore Velcro shoes and he had a comb over. His smile and voice reached beyond the limits of bizarre, and his demeanor suggested what Ricardo was saying had to be absolutely true. The drugs persuaded Remy to believe there was no other plausible explanation for this man to be working in a convalescent home. Remy wanted to take this man, whip out his gun and break his teeth with it. All this made sense when you were to that high.

            Remy kept a steady glare on Jonathan as his Grandmother finally walked in. She waved over to him as the three of them stood up. Ricardo and Hanley worked for Remy for three years and they had grown to know his grandmother Ana Marie as if she was their own. That was the way she was, especially when she was well. Remy had watched his grandmother’s health decline quickly. The timeline was fairly cohesive with the extension of his drug use.

            “Hi grandma,” said Remy walking over to greet his grandmother. She smiled and he kissed her on the cheek. He wasn’t sure if she even knew who he was at that point, over time she had started to call him Carlo. Carlo was Remy’s dead brother who had been gone for about five years. He was gunned down by rival gang members near the Methadone clinic on East Street. He never visited his grandmother, who raised Remy and Carlo after their mother overdosed. It was a bleak life, one that made it feel natural to do wrong.

            “Yes, yeah, it is that way. You know? Yeah that’s it,” muttered Ana Marie Santana looking at her grandson. She smiled a little but then looked clueless again which made Remy sick to his stomach. He closed his eyes and looked down at the ground as Ricardo and Hanley helped Ana Marie into her chair.

            “How have you been Grandma? Did they give back your teeth?” asked Remy grabbing his grandmother’s cold hand. He rubbed it with his finger as she looked up at him and smiled again. She nodded her head but stayed silent.

            “Hello Ms. Santana, how are you. Do you remember the last time we were here, we did the Irish sing a long,” said Ricardo. Ana Marie turned her head and looked at him and smiled.

            “Yes Carlo, of course. Of course, yes, of course. And that’s daddy,” said Ana Marie. Remy sighed and looked up at the ceiling in frustration.

            “Where is my husband? Get me my husband now! Send him a message, tell him I’m ready to go home!” shouted Nancy, one of the other patients. They were all in the dining room as it was six pm and they usually would eat dinner around four in the afternoon. Remy and the crew purposely avoided dinner at all costs, due to the sight of his grandmother struggling to eat. While they ate there would be arguments, fights and beeping from the various gadgets beneath the residents that would go off when they would stand up.

            It was a gloomy environment that nobody wanted to be, and it was a constant reminder to Remy that he wasn’t living up to his grandmother’s spirit. At least he didn’t believe so, he knew deep down that if she was ok she would tell him to leave her alone and live his own life. Nevertheless Remy felt obligated to take care of his grandmother, and it killed him when he realized that even if he hustled relentlessly and used all his savings he’d only be able to afford a decent place for six months. The reason he was reluctant to do that, was because it would cripple Remy for the near future and he didn’t honestly believe he could do things any faster.

            “T-t-t-the b-b-baby, where is Carlo? C-c-c-ca-can you find it?” stuttered Ana Marie as she began to shake.

            “Should we call the nurse?” asked Hanley as Remy grasped her hand and dropped his head. He winced as he watched her in pain. He remembered the day that she told him if she ever got bad and stopped being able to function normally, to take her outside and shoot her.

            “Let’s call the nurse Rem, she isn’t well man. I’ll go get her,” said Ricardo standing up. Right after Ricardo walked away there was a loud scream that came from a different room.

            “Fuck this place scares me,” said Hanley shaking his head with an expression of disbelief. As Ana Marie kept stuttering, Remy brought her even closer to him. He had her face against his chest but she kept talking. Remy looked up to see the nurse coming over.

            “She sometimes refuses to take her meds, but if you all are here it might be easier to persuade her to take them. You are Remy?” asked the nurse to Ricardo.

            “No I’m Remy, these are my friends Hanley and Ricardo,” said Remy pinching his nose and then wiping it with the back of his hand. The nurse looked at him with an odd expression as he started to sniffle, but then turned around.

            “What’s she looking at?” asked Remy shrugging his shoulders. Ana Marie started to laugh obliviously as there was another scream in the other room. A few moments passed and then the Nurse returned carrying two cups, one considerably smaller than the other one.

            “Here she comes,” muttered Hanley as the nurse came back over smiling.

            “Ok Remy, could you help me with this. She hates taking pills,” said the Nurse to Remy quietly. She then turned to Ana Marie, who was sitting next to Remy. “Ok Ana Marie, are you having a nice visit with your grandson?”

            “Yes, v-v-v-very nice, yes,” stuttered Ana Marie.

            “Grandma,” said Remy.

            “Yes!” shouted Ana Marie suddenly becoming hostile. Remy sighed and scratched his neck. He pinched his nose and sniffled as the Nurse looked at him again with a suspicious gaze.

            “Grandma you have to take these pills now, please do it for me ok?” said Remy bluntly. Ana Marie nodded her head but he wasn’t sure what that meant.

            “Here is your meds sweetheart,” said the Nurse bending down and placing a few capsules into Ana Marie’s hand. She held them and didn’t put them in her mouth, so the nurse grabbed her hand and brought it up to her mouth. “Put them in your mouth. Ana Marie, put them in your mouth.”

            “Grandma, please take your medicine. Do what the nurse says,” said Remy putting his hand on his grandmother’s knee. She nodded her head and then put the capsules into her mouth.

            “Good job,” said the Nurse bringing her the other cup. The nurse was clearly surprised that Ana Marie actually took the cup and drank the water. “Great job Ana Marie, have a nice visit with your grandson.”

            “Y-y-yes, I will. Tell da-da-daddy ok?”

            The nurse walked away, so Hanley and Ricardo pulled their seats back over. Remy looked down at the ground for some time but lifted his head up when he remembered that there was a candy bar in the car. He had noticed that he stuttering and shaking had gone done, but she was still muttering nonsensical words that nobody could understand.

            “Yo, I’ll be right back. Grandma, I’ll be right back ok? I have a surprise for you,” said Remy bending down to kiss his grandmother on the forehead. He walked away from her, Hanley and Ricardo exiting dining room from the front. He walked through their little sitting room, past the nurse and then to the door. The door was locked as this was the Harbor, also known as the dementia and Alzheimer’s ward. Remy tried to remember the code to press, but was struggling. The nurse must have noticed and came over to push the numbers in.

            Remy thanked her, opened the door and watched it close behind him to make sure that no one left behind him. After the door closed he cruised through the long hallways completely zoning out. He passed lots of people and would nod to all of them, some not looking back. As he floated through the halls his vision started to become blurry and convoluted, his skin started to feel pasty. He began to crave drugs and knew that once he got back to the car he had to do a few lines.

            Remy became sick to his stomach after he passed patients who smelled viciously of urine and feces. Remy’s stomach turned after walking by one room that really smelled foul. After he had passed through that he walked into a room that had a large gazebo in it. A few patients were sitting with family at the couches and the tables. Remy started to walk a little faster as he began to crave the cocaine more and more. He finally got to the lobby to take a right and finally leave the building.

            Their car was parked in a handicap space because Remy hadn’t been sure if they were leaving that day to go out to eat and also because he was lazy. He pressed the button to unlock his Black Nissan GT-R and then opened the car door. He slid into the front seat but didn’t close the door. He looked back to see the bag full of candy bars and brought it up to the front. After that he looked around the car trying to remember where they put the cocaine. He then realized it was in the glove compartment. So he reached over and pulled the bag out. He looked around the parking lot and then turned back to the bag. He grabbed some with two fingers and then dropped some on the back of his hand below the knuckle. He pushed one nostril closed and then shot it up the other. He sat there and put his seat back and must have dozed off for a few minutes. He then awoke and decided to do some more. Just as he poured a line on his finger and went in to shoot it up his nose her heard someone calling his name.

            He flipped out and dropped the bag into his lap.

            “Remy, you there?” asked Hanley. Remy looked over to see Hanley walking out of the front door. Remy started punching on the steering wheel and basically growling as his friend walked over. “What’s wrong man?”

            “You scared the shit out of me man! Fuck man!” yelled Remy. Hanley walked up closer and opened the passenger seat.

            “Oh you fucking jackass, you spilled all the shit man! Come on, you’ve got to watch what you are doing!” exclaimed Hanley. They both stepped out of the car and started to clean up by dabbing the cocaine and then putting it on his gums. There actually wasn’t that much on the seat, not at all but everything that was ended up back in their nose or in their mouth.

            “Why did you come out here? Where is Ricardo?” asked Remy.

            “Oh that’s right I meant to tell you,” said Hanley rubbing his hands through his long black ponytail.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         “So we were sitting there right, and then your grandmother said something. Now we heard it, but she wouldn’t say it again for us but maybe she’ll say it for you?”

            “What did she say man, come on!” howled Remy as he shot a line up his nose from his finger. The drugs made him grow more and more impatient.

            “So Ricardo was talking about getting a massage, and Ana Marie says that man Jonathan could do it for him. So Ricky and I were like woah, so we asked her about it and she said that he takes her pants off,” said Hanley. Remy just starred at Hanley while shaking violently. He was so angry that his finger nails had cut through the skin on his palm. When Remy would snort cocaine he’d always get very violent and angry, it was usually part of his job, but today he was with his grandmother. He knew something bad was going to happen.

            “Are you telling the truth, swear to me that you are telling the truth man?” demanded Remy grabbing the collar of his friend’s coat.

            “Honestly I wouldn’t be lying about something like that,” said Hanley. After speaking he shot some cocaine up his nose and shook his head. “That guy in there is weird Rem. We watched him, he kissed one of the patients right smack on the lips.”

            “Are you fucking serious man, fuck!” yelled Remy slamming his hand on the steering wheel. “Where is Ricardo, I hope he is with my grandma?”

            “He is with your grandmother, should I go get him?”

            “No don’t go…wait yeah bring my grandmother to bed. I’ll come by and see her tomorrow, but just put her to bed and casually ask that fucking piece of shit when he is getting off from work. Seek a random conversation, you know what I mean? Be like, must be rough days here, when you getting off?” instructed Remy.

            “Alright, I’ll say it just like that,” said Hanley. He got up from the car and walked back into the front entrance. Remy watched Hanley nearly fuming from his ears. In a moment of unsurpassed clarity, he realized that what he was going to do was wrong. But something about Jonathan made Remy sick, he looked like a pedophile. Remy knew about that, something that only he and the uncle that molested him and Carlo knew.

            As he sat there steaming whilst snorting dangerous amounts of cocaine, he realized that he was becoming sick sitting there. He probably had done to much, as his heart rate had gone up to an insane rate and he was sweating profusely. He started to wonder if this was the end. If he started to convulse or have a severe seizure, he wondered if it would be ok. If he would have done enough in his life to where if he died at that very moment it would be ok, and he decided that he hadn’t. So Remy got out the car and lit a cigarette.

            As he smoked the cigarette and stood there, he started to become rather woozy. His eyes kept drifting closed so he flicked the cigarette to the ground and smashed it with his foot. After he stumbled back over to the car and fell asleep. It took another half hour for Ricardo and Hanley to come out, as they casually had a conversation with Jonathan. When they came out they figured that Remy was dead by the way his head was back.

            “Rem, wake up bro,” said Ricardo pushing his friends shoulder. Remy woke up abruptly and jerked his body up nearly colliding heads with Ricardo. The front door of the car was open, luckily the car was off.

            “Yeah what happened?” asked Remy looking at two old women who had walked out of the front entrance. They stared at them for a few seconds but then shifted their attention to walking to their car.

            “He should be coming out any second man, and he is done with his shift. I said that we wanted to show him something of your grandmothers,” said Ricardo. Remy nodded his head and slapped his hands together with glee.

            “Alright so get ready. Get your guns ready just in case. Let’s all stand by the trunk and be really nice, this is going to be great,” said Remy. He looked over at the front entrance and opened the glove compartment. He stuck his finger into the bag and then put it into his mouth. After he jumped out the car looking around meticulously, he adjusted his handgun which was tucked in his pants. Remy bent down and opened the trunk and then finally closed the car door which had been opened for about an hour. Remy gravitated toward the back of the car and leaned against the side.

            Multiple people were coming out of the entrance at that point, none of which were Jonathan. Remy sighed and closed her eyes for a few minutes. He opened them when he heard Ricardo howl, “Hey Jonathan, over here.”

            “Hello, I’m sorry but I’ll miss the bus if I don’t go now,” said Jonathan as he walked over to their car. His voice sent chills down Remy’s back and fear through his heart. He knew he was close to having a flashback.

            “We can give you a ride home, that’s no problem,” said Remy nodding his head.

            “That would be very nice, are you sure?”

            “Yeah we are sure, come on get it,” insisted Remy. Ricardo walked over to the passenger side and slid the seat up. As Jonathan stepped in Remy grabbed Hanley. “When we get there I pull over. We do the trunk.”

            With that Hanley stepped into the passenger side front seat and immediately closed the glove compartment which was wide open. Luckily Jonathan couldn’t see much in the dark, but they didn’t want it to spill all over the place. Ricardo and Jonathan had already been situated in the back seat. Remy started up the car without further ado and sped off.

            “So where do you live boss?” asked Remy pinching his nose and wiping his forehead.

            “I live on Mill River Street it’s not far from here. The dead end street that’s just ahead of Humphreys and behind the old Starter building,” said Jonathan. His voice once again freaked Remy out and made him angry.

            “Yeah so we appreciate how you take care of my grandmother. She is a beautiful woman right?” said Remy looking back at Jonathan as they stopped at a red light.

            “Yes she is very beautiful. She looks a lot like you. Was that your mother who always comes in?” asked Jonathan with a weary smile.

            “Come again?” asked Remy wiping his forehead.

            “Is that your mother, the woman that visits with your grandmother? She looks exactly like you.”

            “No that’s my Aunt Mina,” exclaimed Remy as they drove past the diner and turned into the Starter Building.

            “Oh no sir, my house is beyond that tunnel,” said Jonathan as Remy drove deeper into the parking lot.

            “We forgot to show you that painting of my grandma,” said Remy. Jonathan just went with the flow as he sat there holding his small lunchbox. Once they stopped, Remy and Hanley shot from their seats to the outside. Their dressy oxfords and loafers on the pavement was a welcoming sound. Jonathan slowly departed from the backseat and stood there not knowing where to go. “I apologize but the painting is in the trunk.”

            Remy went to open it while Hanley and Ricardo reached for their guns. The trunk popped open and Remy walked over to lift it open all the way. Jonathan turned his head because there was nothing there. Hanley and Ricardo expected a tense tough guy dialogue, but Remy just grabbed the back of his head and smashed it a few times against the trunk door. The cracking sound was loud and it didn’t look like Jonathan would be getting up.

            “Get him into the trunk and then grab his phone in case he wakes up,” said Remy as Ricardo and Hanley had him in their arms. They dropped him into the trunk and closed it, then looked around and saw nobody. The part of the building that faced them had no windows and there were few cars there as well. As Hanley got into the back seat, Remy turned on the car and grabbed the bag of cocaine. Ricardo slammed the door after he was in and took a deep breath.

            “Now what?”

 

Remy Santana: Chapter 2 (Janaury 6th)

Remy Santana 

 

January 6th

 

            “Look at this fucking guy Rem, I’m telling you I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. The man is a pederast, if you don’t believe me and do something about it I will,” said Ricardo fidgeting in his seat. Remy started grinding his teeth looking at Jonathan, one of the workers at his grandmother’s retirement home.

            “I don’t like this place man, it’s creepy as fuck,” said Hanley. Ricardo, Remy and Hanley had each sniffed a several lines of cocaine before they had gone into the New Haven “Jewish Home”. They were all being loud, covered in a dense layer of sweat and in Hanley’s case he had some cocaine on his nostril.

            “You got a little something there, nah right there bro,” said Ricardo pointing to Hanley’s nostril. He nodded his head, wiped his nose with his finger and shot the little particles up his nose. Ricardo rolled his eyes while Remy had his fixated on Jonathan. He had on high pants, he wore Velcro shoes and he had a comb over. His smile and voice reached beyond the limits of bizarre, and his demeanor suggested what Ricardo was saying had to be absolutely true. The drugs persuaded Remy to believe there was no other plausible explanation for this man to be working in a convalescent home. Remy wanted to take this man, whip out his gun and break his teeth with it. All this made sense when you were to that high.

            Remy kept a steady glare on Jonathan as his Grandmother finally walked in. She waved over to him as the three of them stood up. Ricardo and Hanley worked for Remy for three years and they had grown to know his grandmother Ana Marie as if she was their own. That was the way she was, especially when she was well. Remy had watched his grandmother’s health decline quickly. The timeline was fairly cohesive with the extension of his drug use.

            “Hi grandma,” said Remy walking over to greet his grandmother. She smiled and he kissed her on the cheek. He wasn’t sure if she even knew who he was at that point, over time she had started to call him Carlo. Carlo was Remy’s dead brother who had been gone for about five years. He was gunned down by rival gang members near the Methadone clinic on East Street. He never visited his grandmother, who raised Remy and Carlo after their mother overdosed. It was a bleak life, one that made it feel natural to do wrong.

            “Yes, yeah, it is that way. You know? Yeah that’s it,” muttered Ana Marie Santana looking at her grandson. She smiled a little but then looked clueless again which made Remy sick to his stomach. He closed his eyes and looked down at the ground as Ricardo and Hanley helped Ana Marie into her chair.

            “How have you been Grandma? Did they give back your teeth?” asked Remy grabbing his grandmother’s cold hand. He rubbed it with his finger as she looked up at him and smiled again. She nodded her head but stayed silent.

            “Hello Ms. Santana, how are you. Do you remember the last time we were here, we did the Irish sing a long,” said Ricardo. Ana Marie turned her head and looked at him and smiled.

            “Yes Carlo, of course. Of course, yes, of course. And that’s daddy,” said Ana Marie. Remy sighed and looked up at the ceiling in frustration.

            “Where is my husband? Get me my husband now! Send him a message, tell him I’m ready to go home!” shouted Nancy, one of the other patients. They were all in the dining room as it was six pm and they usually would eat dinner around four in the afternoon. Remy and the crew purposely avoided dinner at all costs, due to the sight of his grandmother struggling to eat. While they ate there would be arguments, fights and beeping from the various gadgets beneath the residents that would go off when they would stand up.

            It was a gloomy environment that nobody wanted to be, and it was a constant reminder to Remy that he wasn’t living up to his grandmother’s spirit. At least he didn’t believe so, he knew deep down that if she was ok she would tell him to leave her alone and live his own life. Nevertheless Remy felt obligated to take care of his grandmother, and it killed him when he realized that even if he hustled relentlessly and used all his savings he’d only be able to afford a decent place for six months. The reason he was reluctant to do that, was because it would cripple Remy for the near future and he didn’t honestly believe he could do things any faster.

            “T-t-t-the b-b-baby, where is Carlo? C-c-c-ca-can you find it?” stuttered Ana Marie as she began to shake.

            “Should we call the nurse?” asked Hanley as Remy grasped her hand and dropped his head. He winced as he watched her in pain. He remembered the day that she told him if she ever got bad and stopped being able to function normally, to take her outside and shoot her.

            “Let’s call the nurse Rem, she isn’t well man. I’ll go get her,” said Ricardo standing up. Right after Ricardo walked away there was a loud scream that came from a different room.

            “Fuck this place scares me,” said Hanley shaking his head with an expression of disbelief. As Ana Marie kept stuttering, Remy brought her even closer to him. He had her face against his chest but she kept talking. Remy looked up to see the nurse coming over.

            “She sometimes refuses to take her meds, but if you all are here it might be easier to persuade her to take them. You are Remy?” asked the nurse to Ricardo.

            “No I’m Remy, these are my friends Hanley and Ricardo,” said Remy pinching his nose and then wiping it with the back of his hand. The nurse looked at him with an odd expression as he started to sniffle, but then turned around.

            “What’s she looking at?” asked Remy shrugging his shoulders. Ana Marie started to laugh obliviously as there was another scream in the other room. A few moments passed and then the Nurse returned carrying two cups, one considerably smaller than the other one.

            “Here she comes,” muttered Hanley as the nurse came back over smiling.

            “Ok Remy, could you help me with this. She hates taking pills,” said the Nurse to Remy quietly. She then turned to Ana Marie, who was sitting next to Remy. “Ok Ana Marie, are you having a nice visit with your grandson?”

            “Yes, v-v-v-very nice, yes,” stuttered Ana Marie.

            “Grandma,” said Remy.

            “Yes!” shouted Ana Marie suddenly becoming hostile. Remy sighed and scratched his neck. He pinched his nose and sniffled as the Nurse looked at him again with a suspicious gaze.

            “Grandma you have to take these pills now, please do it for me ok?” said Remy bluntly. Ana Marie nodded her head but he wasn’t sure what that meant.

            “Here is your meds sweetheart,” said the Nurse bending down and placing a few capsules into Ana Marie’s hand. She held them and didn’t put them in her mouth, so the nurse grabbed her hand and brought it up to her mouth. “Put them in your mouth. Ana Marie, put them in your mouth.”

            “Grandma, please take your medicine. Do what the nurse says,” said Remy putting his hand on his grandmother’s knee. She nodded her head and then put the capsules into her mouth.

            “Good job,” said the Nurse bringing her the other cup. The nurse was clearly surprised that Ana Marie actually took the cup and drank the water. “Great job Ana Marie, have a nice visit with your grandson.”

            “Y-y-yes, I will. Tell da-da-daddy ok?”

            The nurse walked away, so Hanley and Ricardo pulled their seats back over. Remy looked down at the ground for some time but lifted his head up when he remembered that there was a candy bar in the car. He had noticed that he stuttering and shaking had gone done, but she was still muttering nonsensical words that nobody could understand.

            “Yo, I’ll be right back. Grandma, I’ll be right back ok? I have a surprise for you,” said Remy bending down to kiss his grandmother on the forehead. He walked away from her, Hanley and Ricardo exiting dining room from the front. He walked through their little sitting room, past the nurse and then to the door. The door was locked as this was the Harbor, also known as the dementia and Alzheimer’s ward. Remy tried to remember the code to press, but was struggling. The nurse must have noticed and came over to push the numbers in.

            Remy thanked her, opened the door and watched it close behind him to make sure that no one left behind him. After the door closed he cruised through the long hallways completely zoning out. He passed lots of people and would nod to all of them, some not looking back. As he floated through the halls his vision started to become blurry and convoluted, his skin started to feel pasty. He began to crave drugs and knew that once he got back to the car he had to do a few lines.

            Remy became sick to his stomach after he passed patients who smelled viciously of urine and feces. Remy’s stomach turned after walking by one room that really smelled foul. After he had passed through that he walked into a room that had a large gazebo in it. A few patients were sitting with family at the couches and the tables. Remy started to walk a little faster as he began to crave the cocaine more and more. He finally got to the lobby to take a right and finally leave the building.

            Their car was parked in a handicap space because Remy hadn’t been sure if they were leaving that day to go out to eat and also because he was lazy. He pressed the button to unlock his Black Nissan GT-R and then opened the car door. He slid into the front seat but didn’t close the door. He looked back to see the bag full of candy bars and brought it up to the front. After that he looked around the car trying to remember where they put the cocaine. He then realized it was in the glove compartment. So he reached over and pulled the bag out. He looked around the parking lot and then turned back to the bag. He grabbed some with two fingers and then dropped some on the back of his hand below the knuckle. He pushed one nostril closed and then shot it up the other. He sat there and put his seat back and must have dozed off for a few minutes. He then awoke and decided to do some more. Just as he poured a line on his finger and went in to shoot it up his nose her heard someone calling his name.

            He flipped out and dropped the bag into his lap.

            “Remy, you there?” asked Hanley. Remy looked over to see Hanley walking out of the front door. Remy started punching on the steering wheel and basically growling as his friend walked over. “What’s wrong man?”

            “You scared the shit out of me man! Fuck man!” yelled Remy. Hanley walked up closer and opened the passenger seat.

            “Oh you fucking jackass, you spilled all the shit man! Come on, you’ve got to watch what you are doing!” exclaimed Hanley. They both stepped out of the car and started to clean up by dabbing the cocaine and then putting it on his gums. There actually wasn’t that much on the seat, not at all but everything that was ended up back in their nose or in their mouth.

            “Why did you come out here? Where is Ricardo?” asked Remy.

            “Oh that’s right I meant to tell you,” said Hanley rubbing his hands through his long black ponytail.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         “So we were sitting there right, and then your grandmother said something. Now we heard it, but she wouldn’t say it again for us but maybe she’ll say it for you?”

            “What did she say man, come on!” howled Remy as he shot a line up his nose from his finger. The drugs made him grow more and more impatient.

            “So Ricardo was talking about getting a massage, and Ana Marie says that man Jonathan could do it for him. So Ricky and I were like woah, so we asked her about it and she said that he takes her pants off,” said Hanley. Remy just starred at Hanley while shaking violently. He was so angry that his finger nails had cut through the skin on his palm. When Remy would snort cocaine he’d always get very violent and angry, it was usually part of his job, but today he was with his grandmother. He knew something bad was going to happen.

            “Are you telling the truth, swear to me that you are telling the truth man?” demanded Remy grabbing the collar of his friend’s coat.

            “Honestly I wouldn’t be lying about something like that,” said Hanley. After speaking he shot some cocaine up his nose and shook his head. “That guy in there is weird Rem. We watched him, he kissed one of the patients right smack on the lips.”

            “Are you fucking serious man, fuck!” yelled Remy slamming his hand on the steering wheel. “Where is Ricardo, I hope he is with my grandma?”

            “He is with your grandmother, should I go get him?”

            “No don’t go…wait yeah bring my grandmother to bed. I’ll come by and see her tomorrow, but just put her to bed and casually ask that fucking piece of shit when he is getting off from work. Seek a random conversation, you know what I mean? Be like, must be rough days here, when you getting off?” instructed Remy.

            “Alright, I’ll say it just like that,” said Hanley. He got up from the car and walked back into the front entrance. Remy watched Hanley nearly fuming from his ears. In a moment of unsurpassed clarity, he realized that what he was going to do was wrong. But something about Jonathan made Remy sick, he looked like a pedophile. Remy knew about that, something that only he and the uncle that molested him and Carlo knew.

            As he sat there steaming whilst snorting dangerous amounts of cocaine, he realized that he was becoming sick sitting there. He probably had done to much, as his heart rate had gone up to an insane rate and he was sweating profusely. He started to wonder if this was the end. If he started to convulse or have a severe seizure, he wondered if it would be ok. If he would have done enough in his life to where if he died at that very moment it would be ok, and he decided that he hadn’t. So Remy got out the car and lit a cigarette.

            As he smoked the cigarette and stood there, he started to become rather woozy. His eyes kept drifting closed so he flicked the cigarette to the ground and smashed it with his foot. After he stumbled back over to the car and fell asleep. It took another half hour for Ricardo and Hanley to come out, as they casually had a conversation with Jonathan. When they came out they figured that Remy was dead by the way his head was back.

            “Rem, wake up bro,” said Ricardo pushing his friends shoulder. Remy woke up abruptly and jerked his body up nearly colliding heads with Ricardo. The front door of the car was open, luckily the car was off.

            “Yeah what happened?” asked Remy looking at two old women who had walked out of the front entrance. They stared at them for a few seconds but then shifted their attention to walking to their car.

            “He should be coming out any second man, and he is done with his shift. I said that we wanted to show him something of your grandmothers,” said Ricardo. Remy nodded his head and slapped his hands together with glee.

            “Alright so get ready. Get your guns ready just in case. Let’s all stand by the trunk and be really nice, this is going to be great,” said Remy. He looked over at the front entrance and opened the glove compartment. He stuck his finger into the bag and then put it into his mouth. After he jumped out the car looking around meticulously, he adjusted his handgun which was tucked in his pants. Remy bent down and opened the trunk and then finally closed the car door which had been opened for about an hour. Remy gravitated toward the back of the car and leaned against the side.

            Multiple people were coming out of the entrance at that point, none of which were Jonathan. Remy sighed and closed her eyes for a few minutes. He opened them when he heard Ricardo howl, “Hey Jonathan, over here.”

            “Hello, I’m sorry but I’ll miss the bus if I don’t go now,” said Jonathan as he walked over to their car. His voice sent chills down Remy’s back and fear through his heart. He knew he was close to having a flashback.

            “We can give you a ride home, that’s no problem,” said Remy nodding his head.

            “That would be very nice, are you sure?”

            “Yeah we are sure, come on get it,” insisted Remy. Ricardo walked over to the passenger side and slid the seat up. As Jonathan stepped in Remy grabbed Hanley. “When we get there I pull over. We do the trunk.”

            With that Hanley stepped into the passenger side front seat and immediately closed the glove compartment which was wide open. Luckily Jonathan couldn’t see much in the dark, but they didn’t want it to spill all over the place. Ricardo and Jonathan had already been situated in the back seat. Remy started up the car without further ado and sped off.

            “So where do you live boss?” asked Remy pinching his nose and wiping his forehead.

            “I live on Mill River Street it’s not far from here. The dead end street that’s just ahead of Humphreys and behind the old Starter building,” said Jonathan. His voice once again freaked Remy out and made him angry.

            “Yeah so we appreciate how you take care of my grandmother. She is a beautiful woman right?” said Remy looking back at Jonathan as they stopped at a red light.

            “Yes she is very beautiful. She looks a lot like you. Was that your mother who always comes in?” asked Jonathan with a weary smile.

            “Come again?” asked Remy wiping his forehead.

            “Is that your mother, the woman that visits with your grandmother? She looks exactly like you.”

            “No that’s my Aunt Mina,” exclaimed Remy as they drove past the diner and turned into the Starter Building.

            “Oh no sir, my house is beyond that tunnel,” said Jonathan as Remy drove deeper into the parking lot.

            “We forgot to show you that painting of my grandma,” said Remy. Jonathan just went with the flow as he sat there holding his small lunchbox. Once they stopped, Remy and Hanley shot from their seats to the outside. Their dressy oxfords and loafers on the pavement was a welcoming sound. Jonathan slowly departed from the backseat and stood there not knowing where to go. “I apologize but the painting is in the trunk.”

            Remy went to open it while Hanley and Ricardo reached for their guns. The trunk popped open and Remy walked over to lift it open all the way. Jonathan turned his head because there was nothing there. Hanley and Ricardo expected a tense tough guy dialogue, but Remy just grabbed the back of his head and smashed it a few times against the trunk door. The cracking sound was loud and it didn’t look like Jonathan would be getting up.

            “Get him into the trunk and then grab his phone in case he wakes up,” said Remy as Ricardo and Hanley had him in their arms. They dropped him into the trunk and closed it, then looked around and saw nobody. The part of the building that faced them had no windows and there were few cars there as well. As Hanley got into the back seat, Remy turned on the car and grabbed the bag of cocaine. Ricardo slammed the door after he was in and took a deep breath.

            “Now what?”