Crank - 01 (5 page)

Okay, little girl. Ready to party?

I was ready to take a big bite

of freedom before my time was up.

You gotta be sure.

Mom expected me home in ten

days. Of course, I was sure.

Let’s hit the back room.

We ducked behind a stack

of crates, sat on the floor.

You really never tried this?

Like magic, a mirror and

razor blade appeared.

You’re gonna love it. You’ll see.

I watched him pour powder,

yellowish white.

It will take you to heaven.

Used the blade to chop the chunks

fine, draw two crooked lines.

Make you want to fly all night.

He held the mirror to my face,

handed me a sawed-off straw,

Make you want to make love to me.

Just Before the Drop

You know how you

stand and stand and stand

in line for the most

gigantic incredible roller

coaster

you’ve ever dared attempt.

Anticipation swelling,

minute by minute by minute,

you choose to wait even

longer, to ride in the front

car

and finally it’s your turn.

They buckle you in, lock

the safety bar with a jolting
clunk!

Hook engaged, the chain jerks

you forward. You start to

climb

crank-crank-crank.

Cresting the top, time

moves into overtime

as you wait for that scant

hesitation, just before you

drop

knowing you can’t turn back.

You know how you feel

at that instant? Well, that’s

exactly how it feels when you

shake hands with the

monster.

No Time Like That First Time

Fire! Your nose ignites,

flameless kerosene

(and, some say, Drano)

laced with ephedrine

you want to cry

powdered demons bite

through cartilage and sinuses,

take dead aim at your

brain, jump inside

want to scream

troops of tapping feet

fall into rhythm,

marking time, right

between your eyes

get the urge to dance

louder, louder, ultra

gray-matter power,

shock waves of energy

mushroom inside your head

you want to let go

detonate,

annihilate barriers,

bring down the walls,

unleashing floodwaters,

freeing long-captive dreams

to ride the current

through

arteries and capillaries,

pulsing, rushing,

raging torrents

pounding against your heart

sweeping you away.

But That’s Not Exactly Cool

So you sit and smile,

pretending like it’s not

even fazing you,

not touching you at all.

So he looks you

in the eye, trying

to measure you,

find a hint of reaction.

And he says,

Tell me how you feel.

So you can’t stand

it one more second,

and you close your eyes,

daring him to kiss you.

So he does, and it’s

electric, high voltage,

stun-gun strength desire

jolting sinew and bone.

And he asks,

How ’bout another line?

If a Little’s Good

More must be great, right?

Well, sometimes.

That time!

It didn’t burn as bad,

nasal self-defense,

I guess.

And it launched me

to a place, very

near the gates

of heaven.

Adam took my hand,

led me the rest

of the way. No,

not quite all

the way.

Although Maybe

it’s a matter of semantics.

How does Webster define

“all the way”?

Does it mean, start to finish,

an act of defilement,

pure physicality,

no choice but yes, no

stopping now,

no holds barred,

everything off, nothing

left to chance,

all the way in?

Because It Wasn’t That

It was gentle persuasion.

I can’t get enough of you.

Sweetest coercion.

My beautiful angel.

Magnet to metal.

I’ve got to have all of you.

It was hands, exploring

taboo places.

Oh, God! You’re perfect!

Lips and tongue, not

far behind.

Let me eat you up.

Skin to skin, belly

to shoulder.

Sweet as puddin’.

It was body rush

after body rush,

intensity building.

Touch me there.

Hot flush, raging

blush, quick-start

ignition.

See how much I need you?

Ice flash, instant

crash, voices

outside the door.

No! Don’t stop now!

I Didn’t Want to Stop Either

but one of those voices

belonged to my dad.

They were here just a while ago.

We scrambled to cover skin,

passion, and stash.

I didn’t see them leave.

Trepidation, just this side

of anticipation, tingled.

They must be around somewhere.

The monster stomped up

and down my spine.

Kristina? Buddy? You here?

Adam looked at me

and whispered, “Who’s Kristina?”

For Some Crazy Reason

I thought that was

the funniest thing

I’d ever heard.

Creepy, insane

laughter bubbled

up from my gut

like lava,

erupting

suddenly

in gigantic

heaving

gulps.

We were

busted.

I was

busted.

And I

didn’t

give

a

damn.

Not Until the Door Opened

Guess who was there

with my dad.

Wha’ the fuck you up to, Buddy?

Lince pounced through

the door, claws extended,

golden eyes growing black.

You two been messin’ around?

Hair askew, buttons

undone, I thought it was

pretty obvious. But Adam

dared say no.

Well, what, then?

Damn, if she didn’t

want to believe him.

I almost felt sorry

for her. The monster

shook me smarter.

Okay then. Fix me a line.

Like an Idiot

I took one too.

Things went from

weird to worse.

I mean, there I was,

snorting crank

with my dad,

my boyfriend,

and his other

girlfriend.

Something majorly

wrong with that picture.

The Monster Loves to Talk

He jumps into your head

and opens your mouth,

making it spout your

deepest

darkest

deceptions.

Making you say

all the things

you’d rather

not say,

at least not

in mixed company.

Dad Said

I got up, headed

for the door, hoping

Adam would try

to stop me.

But lust is stronger

than love. And

monster lust

is unconquerable.

I Was Pissed

Anger seeped

from my pores,

vinegar sweat,

as I stomped

out the door,

into the night,

down the dark

sidewalk.

I was hot.

Heart

jackhammering

in my chest,

pumping fever,

toenails to follicles,

blistering

veins and

brain cells.

I was high.

I ran through

the alley,

inconsolable,

turned down

the sidewalk,

invincible,

five minutes

later,

I was scared.

Night Had Hung

a sultry, black curtain,

sequined gold.

It would have been

quite beautiful in another part of town.

But here, cars

cruised slowly,

checking out the

tightly knit groups

crowding sidewalks

and doorways.

Here, color

was everything,

skin color,

hair color,

the color of

your jacket.

Fair-skinned,

golden-haired,

I stood out like a moped

at a Harley rally.

I Thought I Knew the Way Home

but it all looked different,

covered in night,

and the buzzing

in my brain

put this sparkling

in my eyes.

It wasn’t like psychedelic,

more like my eyes

were speeding too,

and didn’t know

just where to focus

except on

points

of

light

in

the

dark.

Whatever,

I was

completely

disoriented.

And as I tried

to figure out

which way to go,

these three guys

in Raiders jackets

semicircled me.

Hey, baby,

can we help you wit’ som’thin?

I Tried to Be Cool

Tried to sound tough,

asked if they could

spare a smoke.

Sure, baby.

Anything you want.

Took a cigarette, bummed

a light, and with a soft “thanks”

tried to amble away.

Hey. Where ya going?

You ain’t in a hurry, are ya?

They weren’t big, not football

players, but I was outnumbered

and felt it.

Yeah, what kind

of thanks is that?

The circle tightened,

moving me back, away

from the safety of the street.

Damn, you are

a fine little piece.

Think. Think! But my brain

moved too fast to process well.

My eyes gave it away.

Yo. I think this bitch

been crankin’.

That was license enough. Bodies

bumped, pushed me into

a doorway, blocked escape.

Ever done a three-fer?

You gonna love it, baby.

Hands

covered my mouth,

rough,

held my arms,

strong,

ripped my clothes,

vicious.

Fear danced

up my spine,

jolted

my brain,

dripped onto

the ground.

No!
I

screamed

into dirty

flesh.

Not

this way!

Buttons burst,

zippers

opened,

I closed my

eyes, braced

for pain.

And Then I Heard

a familiar voice.

Hey, dudes.

Whatcha doin’?

Adam took

command.

You not bothering

that little girl?

The trio

pulled back,

straightened up.

’Cause that just

isn’t right

Glared.

Stared.

Half issued

a challenge.

Nah, man. No need

to fight. Besides …

Adam pointed

to a black

and white,

two blocks

away and closing.

You know what they do

to rapists in prison?

Three Raiders Jackets

faded into the night,

dissolving like silver

and black nightmares.

Adam folded me gently

into his arms,

kissed my sobs,

stilled my quaking.

Don’t cry, Bree. It’s okay now.

The patrol car drew

even, slowed to

a crawl, window

rolled down, inquiring.

Remember, you’re buzzed. Stay cool.

Glad he was there, scared

he was there, I dug deep

for a smile, waved

the cop away.

Come on. Let’s go home.

I Held Tight

to his shirt

all the way home,

clung fast like

a paranoid kitten.

Dad wasn’t there,