ROLL CALL ~ A Prison List (True Prison Story) (31 page)

My dream got darker. I fought against the depth of my sleep, wanting to get back into my subconscious to see what else happened. I wanted to see myself doing the recon on Tom’s residence and then what we’d talked about inside. I couldn’t get there. Instead, I felt that chain around my neck again. I felt myself walking up a hill, straining against my leash. The hill kept getting steeper and steeper. I felt myself leaning against my leash as hard as I could, pumping my legs faster and faster, and starting to run. I saw the road in front of me was starting to turn and I assumed that once I made it through the turn I’d be at the top of the hill. Determined, I pushed harder. Then I heard Natasha’s voice behind me, “You better hurry and get us there! I’ve only got a little more time left with you!” My leash was pulling against my neck so hard that I couldn’t turn around to look at her or the steep descent I was climbing would have us both tumbling down the hill, so I continued to strain against my leash. At least I was entering the turn now. I began to hear a “Click, click… Click, click… Click, click…” I realized Natasha must be on a skateboard holding on to my leash. I pushed harder and ran faster through the rest of the turn. I had to get to the top of the hill so I could look back at Natasha and ask her what she meant. Ask her what was happening to us. A little further, a little further. I struggled through the last of the turn and saw the road in front of me… I still had another steep hill to climb. It only looked another 50 yards, but it was a little steeper. I desperately struggled against my leash as hard as I could. I realized it was turning toward the top of it like the last one. Pushing harder, pumping my legs and grinding my teeth against the exertion I strained onward against my leash. I struggled through the turn and saw… Another steep hill, identical to the last one. I didn’t want to be in my dream anymore. Maybe I could take on the form of a bird and see myself from above to see how many more hills I had left. It worked. I saw myself straining against the leash, but Natasha was gone. I couldn’t see anyone pulling my leash I struggled against. Who was pulling it? I pulled away from my struggling body far enough to see the hill I was climbing until I couldn’t see myself struggling against my leash anymore. I still couldn’t see the top of the hill. There was one turn after another, after another, after another with no end in sight…

Then….I saw my grandfather’s face at the airport and heard him tell me, “Nothing good can come out of this drug business.”

CHAPTER 73

“Benny! Wake up! B.J.! Wake up!”

I tried to open my eyes and couldn’t. They were stuck. I felt so much dried sleep holding my eye lids together it felt like they were glued shut. I worked on prying them open until I saw Paul standing over the couch I was on. I felt so dazed and exhausted, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t think. I just laid there and looked at Paul.

“B.J. You’ve been asleep for 36 hours! I thought I should wake you up so you could eat something and drink some water. Gina made breakfast and there’s some coffee.”

I studied Paul and tried to make sense of what he was telling me. They were just words. I couldn’t make sense of them in the cocoon it felt like I was in. I looked at my watch. It was 2 p.m. I struggled through my mind to remember I laid down at about 2 a.m.. Was he telling me that I was asleep for 36 hours? That meant I must have slept through another whole day… I felt that desperate energy coming back to me and ask me, where did you leave things? What do you have to face? I saw the Ford Festiva. I looked back further and saw my grandfather’s face! Then my brother’s! It was all coming back to me but I was too exhausted to run from it. I scrubbed at my eyes to tear the dried up sleep away from my eye lids and welcomed the pain. I asked Paul, “What day is it?”

My brain was starting to let me process things faster. Paul looked wired. I felt a little jealous. I watched him tell me, “It’s Friday the thirteenth. I slept until 5 in the evening yesterday. I was haggard and felt like hell. I think our tolerance is finally built up to that last shit we got from Bob. I’m almost out of that, anyway. We need to get some more from him. I got a little bit last night from a local dealer who sells glass. It’s expensive. It’s about as good as Bob’s but it’s different and works well. It’s cleaner. I mixed some of it up with what I had left from Bob’s and it’s got me going so hard I want to fix Gina’s car and give it a tune up. I’m going to need you to get a hold of Bob to get us some more shit. He’s not answering his phone.”

I picked through what Paul had just said and liked hearing I was needed. That felt good to hear from my cocoon. Then I realized if I got up I could try some of his new shit. It had Paul talking faster than I could make instant sense of. That was enough to get me off the couch. I went straight to his mirror of new shit for breakfast. I ingested a humongous amount of the new glass, and then another of the mixed with Bob’s stuff.

I got in the shower wired for sound. All of that restless energy was back and I washed myself so fast I started laughing. I laughed about the Ford Festiva and remembered how my brain had turned into an impulse message sender and saw my arm sticking my 123 placard in the air. I told myself, I’m not spectacular anymore. I’m spracktacular! Once I was done laughing at myself, I tried facing myself. I thought, I should call my brother! Then I almost started crying and told myself, I can’t, I’m too tweaked out. I got out of the shower and knew I was going to run from everything. I thought, I might as well visit Tom and Dennis, my two new distractions.

CHAPTER 74

I got to Tom’s apartment in Dana Point and parked my truck down the street. Walking there, I remembered fragments of my dream. The part I was trying to get to and couldn’t, my recon. The apartment he lived in was an older brown duplex. Both units were up a wooden flight of stairs. One was facing the other at a right angle. The first floor had two garages only. The driveway always had vehicles parked in it and I used them as shelter to get into the open back yard. From there I could see Tom’s bedroom window. It was partially open to let in the fresh air like last time. I remembered how I had looked to see if any of the neighbors had a view of his bedroom window. None did. Like last time, I listened and tried to hear Tom. I couldn’t. I lit a cigarette and thought about him. He was a daredevil. He’d shown me his Special Forces credentials. He was ranked at 99.3% in his field as a sniper, right behind the instructor who was a retired general. He could hit something accurately from 1,000 yards. He also had an accommodation for parachuting out of a plane from an insane high altitude. I thought about how real Tom seemed. I could see why he was having a hard time fitting into our beautiful, but extremely trendy, plastic area. I thought, hanging around him would be a challenge to see how I measured up.

I went upstairs and Tom answered the door. He looked pretty normal behind those glasses he wore until you studied his eyes. It looked like he’d been squinting them for too long and they were a little red. He greeted me with a big smile and studied me for a second. “You finally went to sleep?”

I nodded my head and followed him inside. I followed him past his roommate’s room straight to his bedroom. He had told me he was keeping his speed habit a secret from him.

His master bedroom was pretty spacious. I looked at his walk-in closet and had an idea about it. Tom walked to his bed and reached down it along the wall and pulled out a humongous glass pipe. At first I thought it was a marijuana bong. It looked like a three foot bong but the end of the glass had been stretched into a circular bowl the size of a basketball. I remembered Tom had said he couldn’t snort speed because the membranes in his nose had an allergic reaction to it. I on the other hand didn’t like smoking it. It slowed me down and I couldn’t stay as focused.

Tom held it up like he was proud. “I blew this amazing piece of glass last night. It took me all night. I need to buy some shit to put in it.”

I thought about how I was in the process of turning Tom into a mini dealer. My plan was to have him be my infiltrator into what was happening on the ground. I laughed at the idea of him being able to lord it over the same people who used to rip him off. I broke Tom off some for him to put in his pipe and asked, “Do you mind if I use your walk-in closet to store my pot?”

Tom started his blow torch. It was set up at an angle so he could use his pipe without having to hold the torch. “Sure. I don’t see why not. I won’t have to have you deliver it that way. I’ll just keep notes on what I remove from it as I move it.”

I watched Tom blow a giant bowl of chemicals and blow them out. He studied the bowl like he was fascinated with how the liquid potion snapped back against the glass. Then he looked at me, “B.J. do you remember what you said about your rules and regulations at Dennis’s house?”

I nodded my head. Of course I did. I’d laid them down so hard, they couldn’t be lifted.

Tom continued, “Those are some of the most righteous rules I can imagine in this business, but they seem impossible to regulate.”

I waited Tom out; I knew he had more to say.

Did you know that Dennis’s wife has a twelve year old kid?”

I didn’t.

“His wife Denise doesn’t use… Is he in violation of those rules?”

I thought about it. I had two choices that I could see. One, just say I was too spun out to remember what I’d said. Or two, stand by those rules that came from what was good in me that I had to hold on to. I looked at Tom and answered, “If he’s putting his twelve year old in harm’s way than it’s a problem.”

Tom went back to his pipe and blow torch for a couple of minutes and looked at me and asked, “Do you have any guns? Or any bullet proof vest?”

I wondered if Tom was indicating that he thought I needed them to hold down my rules. Or maybe he was going to offer me some from his Special Forces days. “Tom, the people that run around with guns all the time are the ones shooting innocent kids doing drivebys. Guns are over rated.”

“What about when you go to San Bernardino. You better have one for that mission.”

I left Tom’s house and headed to Dennis’s.

CHAPTER 75

I circled Dennis’s residence in case there were watchful eyes and parked around the corner. I didn’t have a plan on how to deal with Dennis. I got to his door and told myself, just gather intelligence, and don’t react in haste.

At the door, I didn’t knock. There were two people talking inside. I listened. One was Dennis. The other one sounded young, but not young enough to be his son. I knocked.

Dennis answered. He was smiling like he was glad to see me. He didn’t look like he was that concerned about being in violation of my rules and regulations. I couldn’t return his smile. My face felt stuck in a determined mask. I looked around Dennis, through his living room and into his kitchen. There was a kid standing at the counter facing me. He looked about 18 to 19 years old, had brown hair and was a little rough looking. I saw him realize he’d left something on the counter. He grabbed it and tried to hide it below the counter where he put it in his pocket. He looked at me with that, I’m busted, look on his face.

Dennis turned away from me and walked inside and told the youngster, “Miles, I’ve got to take care of some business. Thanks for coming by. Give me a call.”

I watched Miles pat his pockets, pull out his keys and shake Dennis’s hand on his way to the door. He nodded his head at me for a second on the way out the door.

I looked at Dennis and couldn’t stop my mouth from moving. “What the fuck is going on Dennis? I hear you have a 12 year old son living with you… You do business right out of your house, and you deal with kids? How old was that kid that just left? Was he even out of high school?”

I felt the spike of adrenaline surge through my body like armor. Time seemed to slow down waiting for Dennis to respond.

“Hey youngster! First of all, how old are you B.J.?”

“I’m 21.”

“Well check this out youngster. I’m old enough to be your father and have seen a lot more of this world. Especially the one you’re entering, the speed world. That kid that just left, his name is Miles, and he’s a year younger than you are. His Dad and uncle are both in prison. Maybe you’ve heard of them….”

I had heard of them. They were considered made men in prison and their reputations carried a lot of weight.

Miles has been getting his speed from them and selling it in a small way since 11 years old. Now that they’re in prison, he’s been coming to me. Now as far as my son goes, he lives with my wife, Denise’s mother and just comes here occasionally on the weekends. I don’t let my son see anything and hope he never gets turned on to speed. But in this day and age, I’m sure he will. B.J. no matter how hard you try to enforce your rules and regulations there is no way you can stop that from happening. You have to get something important straight. You can’t control speed. Speed can control you though. It’s going to enslave you until you’re on a leash. Speed is Satan’s dandruff. Look at speed’s history. It was Hitler’s drug of choice. Then it was the outlaw biker’s drug of choice. Now the Mexican’s know how to make it. Do you really think you can bring order to all of that chaos?”

I put my hands on the kitchen counter and stared at Dennis in his Hell’s angel vest. I felt powerless, then frustrated. He had just educated me. I had to find a challenge in what he’d said to fight against and couldn’t identify one. Then, I sensed Dennis assuming he had the upper hand on me. I found one.