THE TASTE OF HOMELESS CHAPTER 2–031124
Shalala walks away, leaving us with the heroin and a sterile injecting kit consisting of two syringes, a small cooker, a filter, two sterile water vials, and a lighter. All the equipment to shoot up safely. Skylar holds the plastic bag in her sweaty, trembling hands.
“Well, don’t just stand there trembling. Test the shit, Skylar.”
“Okay, okay, just hold the bag so I can dip my finger in it.”
Skylar dips her finger into the powder, puts it to her gums, and waits. Her eyes begin to glow, and she starts licking her lips.
I start rubbing my hands together and ask, “Well, is it good stuff”?
Skylar smirks and says, “Told you she had the good shit.”
I look at Skylar, then back at the heroin.
“Let’s go over to that empty warehouse off Venice Blvd and do this shit,” I said.
Skylar and I are standing in an abandoned warehouse’s women’s toilet room, surrounded by trash and debris. There is a filthy fold-down diaper changing table against the wall, but the room still had running water so I could clean it up. Skylar spreads the paraphernalia on the table. I can tell she wants to go first. That’s okay with me because then I can guide her. I place the cooker in the middle of the table where there is less chance of spilling anything or getting it contaminated. I scoop up a small amount of the white heroin on the blade of my knife, which I cleaned with alcohol, and drop it into the cooker. Then I add the sterile water and drop in just enough vitamin C to dissolve the heroin. I strike up the lighter as I hold the cooker steady in my hand and slowly move the fire around the bottom of the cooker to heat the heroin uniformly until it is all dissolved. Next, I drop the filter into the cooker, uncap the needle, carefully stick it into the filter, and draw up slowly through the filter until all the heroin is gone.
Skylar tied her arm off with a rubber tube, squeezed her fist, and popped the vein at the bend in her arm.
She is ready, “Hit me gently,” she says as she releases the tension on the rubber tube.
“Here you go, girl.”
I slowly inserted the needle into Skylar’s popped vein and checked to make sure it was in the middle of the vein and then slowly pushed the plunger and injected the heroin into Skylar’s vein.
With Skylar waiting for the H to hit her, I repeated the whole process to myself. I was used to shooting up solo.
The lighting is dim, with only a few rays of light filtering through the dusty overhead windows. Skylar takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.
“Damn, this stuff is strong. I can feel the shit in my veins.”
I agree, “Yeah, girl, I feel it too. It’s like a warm blanket covering me.”
Ten minutes into it, Skylar starts to shake uncontrollably, her eyes rolling back in her head. I panic and rush to her side.
“Skylar! Skylar! Wake up, girl!”
Skylar’s face turns bluish white and goes into convulsions. Her body thrashes violently.
I’m sweating profusely, and I’m terrified, “Help! Somebody help us!”
Minutes pass, and Skylar’s face color returns. She is now conscious but looks weak and disoriented.
Skylar whispers, “What happened, Frankie?”
I look at Skylar with tears in her eyes.
Now I’m sobbing, “You almost died, girl. We need to get clean, Skylar. We need to get help.”
Skylar turns to face Frankie and nods in agreement.
Skylar recovers and says, “I’m okay, Frankie, but I’m hungry for some grub, girl.”
“Let’s get back out on the streets,” I say, “the food trucks are putting out their garbage cans. We must get to the can before the cooks or their assistants pack up to leave. Sometimes, the uptight ones tell me to get lost. I’m already lost, so what fuck are they going to do about it? Sometimes, I feel like getting lost forever. What’s the point of living anyway?
“I’m starving for food,” I’d say. I know they’re done with it, but they’d rather throw it away than give it to me. I’d never be that cruel. I share why can’t they?
Skylar says, “Yeah, I feel like that too, but I still want to go on getting high.”