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Authors: Carl Weber

The First Lady (27 page)

BOOK: The First Lady
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“Oh, Marlene, I forgot to mention, you shouldn’t let the superior taste fool you. The two flavors mixed together will shock the taste buds at first, but keep drinking. You’ll fall in love with it,” I said to reassure her.

By the time I had taken my first sip, Marlene was humming. “Mmm, you’re right. This mixture is good.”

Well, that was even easier than I could have hoped, I thought with satisfaction.

We made plenty of small talk while we watched Marlene finish her special tea.

“Marlene, do you ever jones?” Loretta asked.

She looked surprised when the conversation abruptly returned to drugs. “What do you mean?” she asked. Oh, please, I thought, she knew exactly what Loretta meant.

“I mean for crack,” Loretta explained, although it was obvious Marlene was just acting. “I understand you’re clean and all, but my brother has explained why he’s relapsed so many times. He says he can’t seem to get rid of that jones feeling he often gets.” Loretta began to describe her brother’s cravings—or at least what he might have told her if she really had a brother who was an addict. She made the high sound so enticing that it was as if she were a paid advertiser for the crack industry. “He says all he can think of is experiencing the ultimate high that comes in less than ten seconds of taking in that smoke. Then for ten minutes, he’s on cloud nine, but ready to get the next hit after that. He says if he can’t get that next hit immediately, he’s restless, irritable, and will stop at nothing to get the next taste in his system.”

Shoot, by the time Loretta finished talking, even my throat was dry. Loretta’s description had obviously affected Marlene, too, because she started taking even bigger sips from her laced tea, apparently unable to respond. Loretta finished her cup, then asked if she could be excused to use the bathroom.

“Sure. I’ll show you where it is.” Marlene set her glass down and stood.

Loretta stopped her. “No, no, you can just point me in the right direction. I’ll find it from here. Sit back down and finish your tea with Lisa.” She winked at me.

“Okay. Go out the kitchen to your right. It’s the first door on your left.”

“Thank you,” Loretta said as she disappeared around the corner.

Marlene returned to her seat and immediately picked up her mug again. She was quiet, probably busy thinking about that ultimate high Loretta had reminded her of. I let her reminisce for a few minutes, then figured I better make some idle conversation with her to end the awkward silence.

“Marlene, we just want you to know that you are a sister of the church, and we are here for you,” I said. “And I hope you will take Loretta and me up on attending Bible study with us tomorrow evening.”

“Well, I’ll have to get back to you on that. Thomas Kelly, Sister Savannah, and I have Bible study here.” Marlene stared off again. “I swear I don’t know what I would do without that man in my life.”

I imagined jumping across the table and tearing her apart, one limb at a time, but as I looked at her eyes and noticed they were becoming slightly glazed, I knew I could afford to just sit back and watch. It was only a matter of time before Marlene would do herself in.

From her silence, it was clear she had a lot on her mind. So, I made certain to add to her troubles. “Would you look at this,” I said, pointing on the floor. “How’d this
crack
get down here?”

Marlene jumped to my side of the table. “Huh? Where?”

“See. Right here.” I traced my finger over a broken piece of tile. “It’s
cracked.
I wonder how this happened. I’ll have to mention it to T.K. when I see him.”

I looked up at Marlene and felt satisfied. When I saw how uncomfortable she appeared just from having heard the word
crack,
I knew that Loretta’s plan would work. Once she found the other little gift that Loretta had just left for her in the bathroom, Marlene would be on a fast trip right back into the gutter—and out of my man’s house.

Loretta stepped into the kitchen, relieving me of the responsibility to further entertain the pathetic little being. “Well, Lisa Mae, are you about ready to go?” she asked.

“I’m ready when you are,” I replied.

“Fine, then I’m all set.”

“Well, Marlene,” I said, rising, “it’s been an absolute pleasure.”

“Same here,” she said as she escorted us to the door, her steps a little less steady than they were when we’d arrived. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“Yes, but hopefully next time it will be in your own apartment,” I said, then quickly softened my tone. “I mean, because you’ll be drug-free and strong and independent.”

“God willing,” Marlene said.

“You take care,” Loretta told her. “And you keep on keepin’ on. We’re so proud of you, Marlene. We know how hard recovery can be for a drug addict.”

“We’ll be praying for you,” I said right before Marlene said her final farewell to us, then closed the door.

“So, did you leave it in the bathroom?” I asked anxiously as we walked to the car.

“I left it right there on the sink,” Loretta answered, pulling out her keys.

“How can we be so sure she’s going to go in the bathroom and find it?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Loretta assured me as she unlocked the car and opened the driver’s side door. “We fed her so much tea, I’m sure she’s in the bathroom this very moment, fixin’ to cook up her real surprise. And you can damn sure bet it ain’t no chamomile tea!”

30
M
ARLENE

I closed the door behind Lisa Mae and Loretta, then made my way back into the kitchen, glad to be rid of them. I know I was supposed to be trying to be a churchwoman now, so God forgive me, but I couldn’t stand either one of them. My instincts told me to steer clear of certain women, and Lisa Mae and Loretta were at the top of the list. I didn’t have a clue what Thomas Kelly saw in that uppity Lisa Mae. And I didn’t know who Loretta thought she was fooling with that “I’ve got a brother who’s on crack” crap, but it sure as hell wasn’t me. I got ten dollars right now that says she didn’t even have a brother. As far as I was concerned, I knew they were both phonies since the day I saw them campaigning for Thomas Kelly’s love like it was some kind of political prize.

In spite of their visit, I was feeling pretty good when I got back to the kitchen table. I reached for my Bible and began to read. Thomas Kelly said his meeting would be short and that he would be home early, and I was looking forward to his return. I couldn’t wait to tell him about the positive things that were happening to me with his and Savannah’s help. I had to give them credit, I thought as I reread an inspiring passage. This whole God and Jesus thing was really intoxicating. As I sat there and read, I actually felt like I had a little buzz.

I enjoyed a few more passages, then realized I had to pee. That fancy tea those two phonies had brought me would probably have me in the bathroom all night. Lisa Mae might as well have given me the entire pot with that sixteen-ounce cup she gave me. Who ever heard of mixing chamomile and cherry together anyway? Give me some plain old Lipton any day.

I relieved myself in the bathroom, then went to the sink to wash my hands. Looking in the mirror, my reflection made me smile. I had only been in recovery a couple of weeks, and already I looked healthier. My cheeks didn’t look so hollow, and my skin was returning to its natural tone. But then I ran my hand through my coarse hair and my smile disappeared. My hair was the one feature that still reminded me of how far I had fallen. At one time it was manageable, but after months of smoking crack and not taking care of it, the texture had changed into something fierce—something I dreaded and despised putting a comb through.

If only I could do something with my hair,
I thought. Tanisha had promised to send Thomas Kelly some money so that I could get it done. Her friend, Niecy, could probably hook it up with little to no problem. That girl was good. As soon as Tanisha sent the money, I would call Niecy for an appointment. It was time for my outside appearance—all of it—to reflect the positive changes I was making inside. Thomas Kelly would be proud of me when I sat in the front pews at First Jamaica Ministries.

I reached down to shut off the water and dry my hands, and that’s when my heart almost stopped. I blinked several times, thinking my vision wasn’t clear as I gazed at the object lying on the counter beside the sink. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? It couldn’t be what I thought it was—ten nickels of crack. Maybe I was hallucinating, I thought, but as I leaned in closer to focus on what lay before me, I saw that my eyes hadn’t been lying to me at all. What lay before me was definitely crack. But how had it gotten there?

I tried to look away but found it impossible to stop my gaze from wandering back there again and again, as though the crack might disappear if I didn’t keep an eye on it. And that’s what worried me. I didn’t know how the stuff had come into Thomas Kelly’s house, but I didn’t want it gone. Suddenly, all the sensations that came along with my urge to get high were starting to overwhelm me: the sweat on my brow, the telltale itch in my arms that I could never quite scratch away. With a shaking hand, I reached for the crack. Only when my fingertips reached the plastic bag did I pull back.

Maybe this was some sort of test. Maybe Thomas Kelly had left the crack there to test my strength. Or what about Savannah? Would she do something like this? Perhaps it was even God Himself who put this ultimate temptation in front of me. I turned toward the door, expecting to see Thomas Kelly or Savannah standing there, but the doorway was empty.

My soul knew I was supposed to run from that bathroom without looking back, get as far away from that poison as I could. But my body wasn’t ready to let go just yet. I turned back to the sink, staring longingly at the small plastic bags. My thoughts traveled through the series of events that might come to pass. What would happen if I picked up that bag and just took one hit? Maybe I had come far enough in my recovery that I could just take a hit and then be strong enough to get rid of the rest. You know, just one hit for old times’ sake. Or maybe not. Maybe I would take that first hit, and just like all the other times, that first hit would only leave me wanting that feeling again, and I’d keep going until I’d smoked up the very last bag.

I cursed myself for my weakness. When I sat at the table reading Bible verses just a few minutes before, I’d felt a little buzz. Why couldn’t that be enough for me? I wanted to be able to just march back into the kitchen and sit down with God’s word as my comfort, the desire for drugs totally gone. That was probably what God wished for me, too, but first I had to pass this test He’d put in front of me. I wasn’t feeling too confident about resisting this temptation.

As I wondered why God would test me this way, I had a sudden sickening realization about how this had all come to pass. And I had let the devils into the house! Considering ten nickels had just happened to land in Thomas Kelly’s bathroom, ten nickels that weren’t there just an hour before, I now understood that God had allowed Lisa Mae and Loretta to step into His work. There was no longer a doubt in my mind about where the drugs came from.

I screamed toward the ceiling, “Lord, You know I’m weak! Why? Why, Lord? You know me better than I know myself. Why would You put this burden on me when You know I can’t handle it?” I was near tears, but I was also angry, bitter about the test God was putting me through. “I guess if this is my cross to bear, then I better carry it, huh?” The tears began to rapidly flow.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of my soul, I knew God would give me strength, but it was as if my body weren’t ready to accept his blessing. Those plastic bags were calling me louder than God’s love. I could hear God telling me to turn and walk away, that He would never forsake me, but my body was pleading with me to answer the call of the drugs. It was a spiritual warfare, and I felt my resolve weakening. Through a steady stream of tears, I looked up one last time.

“If You’re half of everything I’ve learned of You, I’ll still be Your child, and You’ll still love me.”

I wiped my tears and reached out to pick up one of the bags, staring at the dried-up, soapy-looking substance that to me was more beautiful than a handful of pearls. I scooped up all the bags, barely able to breathe. Every inch of my body was telling me I needed a hit. Words can’t truly describe the ecstasy of what I was expecting from this first hit, but it’s like the best orgasm you’ve ever had, with the intensity and pleasure multiplied by ten. It’s just an unbelievable experience, and I couldn’t wait to feel it again. My mouth felt like a desert, and my hands shook wildly. Fuck it. If this had been some kind of a test, then I’d just failed.

Quickly moving to the kitchen, I tore the place up looking for some foil and a match. I found the aluminum foil in the cupboard and a box of ten-inch wooden matches in the drawer next to the stove. The wooden spoon was in the sink. I sat down at the table. I pushed my Bible and all the religious papers I’d been reading to the floor to make room for my paraphernalia.

I wrapped a piece of foil around the wooden spoon’s handle, shaping it to my liking, then slid it off and looked through the tube I’d created. It wasn’t the most ideal stem, but it was good enough to get me high. I opened one of the nickel bags and removed the largest rock, placing it at the tip of the tinfoil, then struck a match. I hadn’t touched the flame to the rock yet, but just that familiar sulfur smell from a lit match had me excited. I could already feel how good it was going to be. I leaned over, bringing the stem closer to the flame. The anticipation was intense, but before I could inhale that first glorious hit, Thomas Kelly’s voice boomed in my ear, making me drop the match.

“What the hell are you doing? Dear Father God, I know this woman is not smoking that stuff in my house!”

I immediately dropped the stem. My first instinct was to protect the crack, so I reached for the bags, pulling them close.

Thomas Kelly didn’t waste a second. “Give it to me!” He rushed toward the table, his hand outstretched with palm up, expecting me to give him the drugs just like that.

BOOK: The First Lady
8.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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