Long Blue Line: Based on a True Story (44 page)

BOOK: Long Blue Line: Based on a True Story
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Chapter 67

Since Donnie was in jail, we were hanging around with an entirely new group of people. These people all worked for our neighbor, Aaron. One of these men was in his 60s. He looked as if he could be a homeless man on the streets and he practically was. Aaron paid for him to stay in a room in a crappy motel. Although he was married, it didn't stop him from sleeping with the woman who managed the place. She gave him a discount. I spent most of my time obsessively researching the law, trying to figure out what to expect. So far, it had been a couple of months, and we hadn't heard anything about the case. A part of me assumed that if something were going to happen, it would have already happened. Another part of me was worried and I had a bad feeling. I was able to find a website that provided a list of all of the local criminal cases. It appeared to be an automated system, so I was hoping that if a warrant were to be put into place it would show up here. I checked this website every day. So far all seemed good. If we could just get through the next few months, we could be out of here and on our way to Texas.

 

Aaron somehow acquired a car  - if you could call it that. He was selling it for $500, and we thought that we would probably be able to get it for $400. The vehicle ran extremely well and had low mileage. It was really ugly, a burgundy color, and made in the 80s, and it was a Lincoln town car. Luckily we were able to get the vehicle before someone else did. After almost four months without a car, we were happy to have anything - as long as it ran. We were smoking crystal meth on a daily basis, and it seemed like the supply just never ran out. We smoked more than we had ever done together and even more than when we were hanging around Donnie. I became paranoid that we were going to be arrested for the Thanksgiving fight, and I didn't want to be left alone at home. The drug-use contributed to my paranoia. I started to go on the jobs with Derrick, and I helped him clean out the hot tubs for the vacation homes. Plus, I thought it was fun to be able to see these homes. They were huge and some of them had more than three stories. I pretty much clung to Derrick wherever he went.

 

Before we knew it, Danielle was about to be two years old. The thought of missing her second birthday was simply not an option for us. I didn't even bother to ask Probation if it would be okay to drive to Texas to see her. I already knew what their answer was going to be, and I already knew that I was going to go regardless of what they said. The only thing that asking them would really accomplish was telling them that I was going to leave the state for two weeks, which was completely illegal. I didn't care, at that point - I just wanted to see my daughter.

 

After getting some jobs done, we saved enough money for the gas to get to Texas. We already knew that the vehicle we had would make it. Our main concern, however, was getting pulled over. It was one of those vehicles that just had that look - that typical crack head or kidnapper car look. Honestly, it was embarrassing even riding in this car. It was, however, the best and the cheapest that we could afford. When we realized that we had saved enough money, we just kind of got up and impulsively left. There was nothing more to do except sit around, so we figured that we might as well spend this time with our daughter. We left with just enough meth to make the drive to Texas. It was my first time driving there. I knew it was going to be a long drive, but I didn't know how long it was actually going to be. This was a twenty-nine hour drive not including stops. I was anxious to get there, but I didn’t know if my daughter was going to even going to know me. It had already been almost a year since we dropped her off in El Paso. She was only a little over a year old, so I was convinced that she was probably not going to remember me. The drive seemed to go pretty smooth for the first twenty-four hours. We drove all the way to Flagstaff stopping twice for gas. The sun was coming up, and we had been smoking meth all night. When we stopped for gas, I went to the restroom to change my clothes and wash my face. We spent the entire day driving through Arizona, New Mexico, and finally we got into Texas. Driving through Texas was going to be the longest part of the drive. There had been a couple of close calls with us getting pulled over on the second day of driving, but somehow we were okay. When it began to get dark, we were both getting pretty tired and knew that we should probably find a rest stop. As we pulled in to one, I was surprised at how nice it was. We could tell that Texans were clearly proud of their state.  “Don't mess with Texas!” was a phrase that I saw probably twenty times since entering the state. There was a lobby, and it was almost like a museum. The restrooms were huge with a row of showers on the other side of the toilet stalls. It was shiny clean, and I knew that if I were going to get a chance to take a shower in a decent area, it was going to be here. We both got cleaned up, and although exhausted, we figured that our remaining meth would probably get us to our destination that night.

 

This was when the drive became intense. I was too afraid to fall asleep because I thought that Derrick looked like he was beginning to nod off. We were at the point where the meth was no longer working. We tried to snort it instead, thinking that maybe if we used it differently, it would miraculously wake us up. The most that it did, at best, was keep us awake for another ten minutes. Derrick continued to say that he was fine, but I knew that he probably wasn't. Around midnight, we had just a couple of hours of driving left to do. We got lost in Dallas for probably an hour, and I remember thinking that the city looked so futuristic. The tall buildings were brightly lit up in different neon colors, and the freeways were windy and going in every direction. I remember the city lights the most and what caught my attention immediately were the lights of the police cars. Every few minutes of driving we passed someone who was pulled over with the bright lights of the police officer behind them. The lights looked like fireworks. They flashed red, white and blue, and I had never seen police lights quite like these ones. When we finally got out of Dallas, the police lights must have found a place inside of my mind. I was getting close to the hallucination phase of the binge, and the fears in my subconscious were starting to emerge. We went through a few towns, and more than once we drove on a freeway with air patrol monitoring the speed limit. I thought for sure that these helicopters were after us. I threw my glass pipe out of the window making sure that it shattered. I knew that I wouldn't need the pipe anyway because Derrick and I already decided that we weren't going to need to use meth once we arrived at his parent’s house.

 

My exhausted mind had me thinking that somehow Probation knew that I had left the state. I kept my panic contained for as long as I could. When we finally got away from the helicopters, I thought that just maybe we might make it to our destination. That's until I looked in my side mirror to see blaring police lights directly behind us. They were flashing that same red, white and blue. This was it. We were being pulled over. "Derrick! There's a cop behind us! We're being pulled over!" I said in a panic. He did not slow down - if anything, he sped up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Chapter 68

“Derrick! Why aren’t you pulling over! We are about to go to jail. Oh my God,” I said, trying hard not to panic. I knew that if I got too loud he would probably reach over and knock me out. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them about five minutes later, we were pulling into a rest stop. “What is going on? I am so confused. Weren’t we being pulled over?” I asked, genuinely wondering if he somehow dodged the cops or if I was just crazy. “We’re pulling over because I’m nodding off, and you need to go to sleep,” He replied. “No, we weren’t being pulled over, and there are not any helicopters following us. We’ve been up for too long.” Without questioning his statement, I nodded in agreement. Even though we were literally an hour away from his parents, we just couldn’t do it. We had to stop and sleep - even if for only a few hours. It was around two in the morning, and would sleep until it got light out. He got out of the front seat and got into the back seat. I was bummed that he didn’t let me take the back seat because I had been hallucinating and was afraid. I was nervous about everything, and because I had been up for so long, I had the constant feeling that I was being watched. I saw another helicopter flying above us, and I was sure it was there to keep tabs on our whereabouts. I don’t know if it was really there or not. It probably wasn’t.

 

The physical and psychological consequences of extreme drug abuse are dire. If it doesn’t kill you physically, it’ll certainly kill you mentally. I got to a point where it was almost impossible to really comprehend what was going on and if what I was seeing was really even there. Derrick had a higher tolerance than I, and if he ever did have the same hallucinations as I, he never made it known. If the grip on us got any tighter, methamphetamine would surely be our demise.

 

After sleeping for what felt like five minutes, Derrick opened the back car door and walked to the restroom area. It was just beginning to get light out. Derrick called his mother to tell her we’d be there in about an hour. He drove through a fast-food place to grab something to eat. We snorted the last small amount of meth that we had, knowing that we probably had no choice if we were going to stay awake long enough to make it. Normally, if at home, we would’ve slept for two or three days. Luckily, we’d probably be fine with sleeping for most of the day when we arrived. His parents knew how long we had been driving, as they’d made the long drive more than once themselves. It was exhausting. Derrick was nervous, and I could tell by the way he was acting. I asked him what was wrong and he responded, “I just feel super bad about doing all of this shit right before seeing my parents and Danielle. I’m worried they’re going to be able to tell.” I couldn’t blame him. I felt just as bad, and I definitely wouldn’t have done this if I were going to see my own parents. At least he has a conscious I thought.

 

Finally, we pulled into the community where his parent’s house was. He was driving more slowly than usual. He really was nervous. We pulled up to the front of his parent’s house and parked on the side of the street. As soon as we got out of the car and grabbed our bags from the back seat, his mother came out of the front door. She hugged us both, and we walked into the house. It was just as it was when we flew out over Christmas almost two years ago, only there were baby toys all over the place. There was a playhouse with a huge slide going down the side. This thing was sitting in their kitchen. I knew right away that my little girl was definitely spoiled. That was a good thing. Danielle was out on the back patio with her grandpa. I put my purse on the counter and followed Derrick outside.

 

She looked up at him first and had a look of hesitation because she was probably a little bit confused. I called her name calmly, “Danielle! I missed you!” I said, reaching my arms out. She smiled and said, “mama!” and ran up to me. I picked her up and held her and hugged her, remembering how badly I had missed her. My heart was dancing as I realized that she remembered me. She still knew who I was, and I was revived with hope. My baby girl had grown, and she had more hair. It was curly and pale blond. “I love you so much,” I told her as I squeezed her with another hug. I set her down after ten minutes, and she walked over to her daddy. She knew him too, and she just needed time to process everything. He picked her up and she smiled.

 

We spent ten days with our daughter. For her birthday, I had brought a blanket I was crocheting for probably the last year. We bought her a few more presents earlier in the day, and I wrapped them while Derrick and his dad made her the cake. I thought it was kind of cute - two grown men in the kitchen slaving over a strawberry shortcake for a two-year old. They did a good job, and after we sang to her, I had more than one piece. It was a small family affair, but she was happy and that’s all we cared about.

 

We went swimming, out to dinner, and lived like a normal family. For ten days, we got to sober up and forget about the horrible lifestyle we had built for ourselves. Something about getting away, cleaning up and being with our daughter was magical. I wanted this forever. Derrick was a different person. I’m sure that I was, too. We were happy and content. I tried as hard as I could to block away the imminent reality of this ending. Before we knew it, it was time to go back. We had to go home. I had to get off of Probation and take care of business. We packed our bags and set them next to the staircase before visiting with our daughter before we hit the road again. She heard us rustling around to get our things in order while she was playing in the living room. She toddled over to us to find out what was going on. The instant that she saw our bags at the base of the staircase, she broke down crying. I had a lump in my throat as I picked her up. She knew exactly what was going on. She knew that we were leaving her. Again. This little girl, only two years old, had been left behind, relocated, and heartbroken more than most children ever are. Seeing her tears killed me. My heart was broken for her, and there wasn’t anything I could do. The only way that I could ever get back to her, for good, was to go back home and face my problems. We kissed her goodbye, and she put up a fight as Derrick handed her to his mom.

 

As in El Paso a year ago, we didn’t break down until we hit the road. I was silently crying, and Derrick fought back his own tears as he drove us back to our hell. We had a long drive ahead of us and had nothing to look forward to. If anything, we had plenty to fear. More of the unknown and unpredictable existence that we ignorantly created was closely ahead.

BOOK: Long Blue Line: Based on a True Story
12.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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