All My Tomorrows

“Can you do this?” Dev asked.

“Of course I can. I was trained to take blood samples at work.” My jaw was stiff when I spoke and my mouth was suddenly dry and cottony. I dropped onto the edge of the bed.

“That’s not what I mean.” He looked at me doubtfully. Without speaking I reached out to unbuckle his belt and pull it from around the waistband of his jeans. I used it to tie off, holding the end between my knees to pull it tight. I tapped the fat vein that popped up in the bend of my arm. I’ve drawn blood from hundreds of patients, I thought. I can do this. I used my right hand to hold the syringe, eyed the blue line in my left elbow and took a deep breath. My hand shook and my heart pounded, but the tip of the needle slid easily into my skin and I felt the slight pop as it punctured my vessel. I pulled back on the plunger of the syringe to see the dark blood mix with the light brown heroin in slow billowy clouds, confirming that I was in the vein. My mouth began to water. I pushed the drug in and dropped the end of the belt I held between my knees so it loosened from my arm. In seconds, before I got the needle out, I could feel a warm heaviness begin below my belly button. Another few seconds and it was spreading to my limbs, melting any tension I held in my body and allowing me to sink deeply into relaxation. My chest rose involuntarily in a deep sigh. A glow washed over me and into me in a slow wave. I felt like I was in love. I beamed a smile at Mick who was watching my reaction.

“Instant karma,” he said softly, smiling back with a knowing look in his eyes. Dev radiated from his position in the rocking chair. He looked like a smiling Buddha. The three of us sat silently sharing the rush, each knowing that the others were feeling the same thing. The initial intensity passed. I settling into a state of peaceful contentment. We went out for coffee, blessing everyone in the cafe with our soft smiles.

“Maybe that’s the thing about heroin that seduces people,” I said as I sipped my coffee. “You can still function. I thought I’d be like the junkies on Drag-net, staggering around, blank-faced and looking like death, all pale and skinny and scared.”

Mick shook his head and smiled a little.

“Nothing’s like it is on TV. You don’t get giddy or giggly, you don’t feel paranoid or mean, and you don’t see visions or find God,” he said.

“You just feel really good!” I finished for him. Mick and Dev laughed.

“You have to be careful with this stuff,” Mick warned a few weeks later during our regular Friday night get-high get-together. He stood at the mirror and expertly hit the vein in his neck. “It’ll steal your soul. Soon you’ll be selling everything you own for a hit.” His voice was low and he sighed deeply as his heart pumped the drug into his system. Then he slumped into the wooden chair beside the dresser. The yellow-shaded lamp above him made his wispy curls shine like a gold halo circling his head.

“Not me,” Dev replied. “You know I’d never sacrifice the things I worked to have.” He nodded at his stereo, stacks of CDs, and bookcase full of antique books. They were his only possession of worth, but things he considered treasures. Mick grunted and lit a cigarette. His toolbox and a few thousand dollars-worth of tools was sitting in hock as we spoke. Dev withdrew the needle and sat back, his faced flushed and his eyes shining beneath droopy lids. “Good stuff,” he said and closed his eyes to enjoy the rush. Mick watched him and grunted again. I saw the wary look that crossed Mick’s soft features as he watched Dev, and the specter of fear that haunted me that first night tapped my shoulder with icy fingers, reminding me of its presence.