So I've finally made it to the halfway point in my current project. I'm not sure why I'm excited about that. It's only halfway to a rough draft that i'm sure will get revised 2-20 times over. So to say I'm halfway isn't really accurate. I'm more like 17%, maybe. I like milestones though. It makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something.
Here's a little excerpt:
The
whole month of November was a blur. I spent the days working any odd jobs I
could find and when I couldn’t find anything I went and sat around at the Labor
Ready. It wasn’t glamorous by any means, but I’d been able to keep paying my
bills and working a couple times a week with John gave me an amble tab at the
bar.
All
month long my sister had been calling me. I never called her back because I
knew what she’d say. “It’d be really great if you came out for Thanksgiving.
Both your father and I would appreciate seeing you. I’ll even come pick you up
if you want.” It was the same thing every year and for the past 5 years I’d
just ignored her calls but when the day finally came I decided to go.
I guess that’s one of the
strange things about holidays. As much as you can say you hate the holidays
when it comes down to it what you really hate is the idea of being alone for
them. And while she’d have been more
than happy to drive across town to pick me up, I opted to take the long ride
north on the 358.
Now
when people talk about the roughest buses in Seattle two are always mentioned
before the rest, the 7 and the 358, and it’s usually a tossup as to which is
actually worse. I’d say the major difference is that the 358 has less gang
violence and more prostitution. Personally I’d rather deal with some ghetto
punk running his mouth behind me than some cheap skank trying to rub up on my
crotch. But that might just be me.
Being
as it was a holiday nothing was moving quickly. While the bus would usually
come every ten to fifteen minutes it came once an hour. And with just my luck
I’d missed the transfer by 5 minutes. After cursing the driver of my first bus
for not going through a yellow light that very well could have been the
difference in me having to waste an hour downtown or not, I walked down to
Pioneer Square hoping that at least a convenience store would be open.
I
walked the length of downtown without encountering a single person on the
sidewalk and only occasionally seeing a car drive by. All of the litter of the
work week blew aimlessly in the cool breeze coming off the sound but no signs
remained of those who caused it. Pigeons ruled this world.
Pioneer Square was just as empty
except for the occasional huddle of junkies or other types whose actions deny
them the luxury of family. I went in the direction that these groups seemed to
be more prevalent, hoping that meant something was open nearby. Sure enough after a couple blocks I came
across the Save Way Grocer.
Save Way was one of the more
interesting places in the city. It was too large to be considered a minimart
but too small to be a grocery store. They stocked most of the basics that you’d
find at a major grocery, however most of the products had spent so much time on
the shelves their labels had faded away and dust coated the tops of the
packaging. The only things that kept them in business were cigarettes and beer,
and that’s all I needed of them.
The only problem that I have
with the place is that they have a strict policy of not selling single beers
and since the city prohibits the sale of 40 ouncers in the neighborhood I had
to buy a six-pack. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but my family abhors
alcohol and as much as I’d say I couldn’t care less what they think of me, I
never drank in their presence. Family dynamics are a funny thing.
When I got out onto the sidewalk
there was a circus of people loitering outside panhandling for anything they
could come across. A man asked me for a beer and I offered to sell him half of
what I’d just bought. He was happy to fork over the three dollars. I guess
sometimes things do work out in my favor.
I drank the other three beers
quickly as I walked back up through the city. I avoided the main streets,
knowing very well there weren’t any cops. But there was something more settling
about the dark alleyways. I never felt comfortable on the wide sidewalks
whether they were scattered with people or completely devoid of life.
As I walked in the shadow of the
skyscrapers I came across a young woman hiding behind a dumpster furiously
trying to get a flame from a lighter that lacked the fuel necessary. I tried to
walk loudly so as not to startle her, but she was so focused on her mission
that I was within a few feet of her by the time she notice and she jumped in
terror.
“I’m not doing anything wrong!
Get away from me!”
“Chill out lady, I don’t care
what you’re doing.”
And
with those few words her demeanor changed completely.
“Hey
do you have a lighter? Mine isn’t working. I think something’s wrong. I don’t
know what it could be. I just bought this lighter yesterday. It was working
fine this morning but now it doesn’t. I just bought it yesterday. I mean
shouldn’t a lighter last more…”
If I
didn’t stop her she could have gone on forever, “yeah I’ve got one.”
I
handed her the lighter thinking that she just needed to light a cigarette,
instead she pulled out a long piece of glass with a bubble at the end. “What
did I just get myself into,” I thought to myself. She held the flame under the
glass and began to rock it gently back and forth. After a few seconds the white
substance inside burst into gas and began rapidly escaping into her lungs. The
lighter after being used for so long became extremely hot and she dropped it into
a nearby puddle out of shock as she continued to inhale deeply. As soon as she
had stopped inhaling she exhaled a cloud of thick white smoke that smelt
noxious like a hospital.
She
fumbled twice as she tried to pick up the lighter before I just grabbed it
myself.
“Thanks
so much. I really needed that. You wanna hit?”
“I
don’t even know what you’re smoking in that thing, but I think not.”
“This
shit here is the best glass in Seattle. Get you high for days.”
“Yeah
I think I’m good on that.”
During
our exchange the drug was obviously taking over her. She began to fidget more
and more and her eyes dilated into large onyx discs. Her motions all seemed to be in fast forward
as she gathered all her belongings.
“So
where are we off too?” she said as if it were the only logical question.
“Eh,
well I’ve got a bus to catch; I’m not sure what you’re doing.”
“What!
You’re just going to abandon me here after you get me all fucked up?”
I
started walking away backwards. “Look lady, I didn’t get you to do anything.
You just asked me for a lighter.”
She
jogged a few steps to catch up, “Well what am I supposed to do now?”
“I
don’t know, hadn’t you thought about that before you did your thing back
there?”
“I
wasn’t thinking about anything but getting a lighter.”
As
we crossed Seneca I started to walk faster, she had not problems keeping up.
“Well
you can’t follow me around all day. I’ve got things I have to do.”
“What
kind of things?”
“Things.
Why don’t you just wander around the square?”
“Oh
there’s nothing but junkies down there.” I had to bite my tongue. “They just
want to use you until your shits gone and then bail. I don’t want that.”
“What
about the U District. I’m sure there’s plenty of people there your age.”
“Huh,
never been. How do I get there?”
“Just
hop on one of the 70’s. I’ll show you, it’s really easy.”
Over
the walk I told her of places to go while she’s out there; south campus, the
Ave, anywhere that I wasn’t going to be. By the end she seemed excited to be
going someplace new. We made it to the stop at University just as the 72 was
pulling in.
“Well
this is your chariot.”
She
waved as she boarded the bus. “Thanks!”
I wondered briefly if I’d ever see her ever again, but was interrupted by the
braking hiss of the 358.
