He grabbed the sticky black receiver and dropped a quarter in the slot. Sweat poured off him as he punched in the number.
“Hello?”
That was not the voice he was expecting.
“Hello?”
He tried to disguise his voice.
“Uh, yeah…is Daphne there?”
“Who wants to know?”
“I’m just a friend. Is she there?”
“Is that you, Jack?”
Jack slammed down the receiver and swore under his breath. He felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. He needed to score a hit and fast. Daphne was the only person who might still trust him enough to loan him some money.
He decided to chance it and ran the 8 blocks to her house. If she was there he might be able to get her out of the house somehow without her old man seeing him.
He was in luck. He could see her through the window of her bedroom. He picked up a few pebbles and tossed them at it.
Daphne slid the window up.
“Jack, what are you doing here? You know my father will kill you if he sees you.”
“Baby, I’m in bad shape,” he said, “I need some money.”
She shook her head, “No, Jack. I’m not going to help you feed your addiction.”
He jammed his shaking hands in to his pockets, trying to think of something to say to make her change her mind. His head was pounding.
“Daphne, after all we’ve been through, I can’t believe you won’t help me out.”
“Jack, it was your fault I got addicted in the first place. It started with the first kiss you gave me. It was so sweet. I thought you loved me and I just wanted more and more. That just led to the bars and finally, I didn’t care. I took it any way I could get it. I starting doing the liquid stuff…drinking it straight. You were there when my parents finally found me huddled outside the convenience store with the stuff smeared all over my face and hands. It took months for them to clean me up. Go away, Jack – I’m not helping you.”
Jack was desperate. “Daphne, I know you must still have some stashed somewhere. Please…just help me this once and I won’t bother you again. I promise.”
Daphne understood his pain. She knew what it felt like to crave the stuff so badly that your mouth went dry and your mind conjured up the very smell of it. When you were that bad off, it didn’t matter if it was the brown stuff or the white stuff - you had to have it.
Reluctantly she crossed the room to her dresser drawer and grabbed the last of her stash. She didn’t know why she had hung on to it, but now she was ready to let the stuff go for good.
She dropped it out the window. “Jack, this is the last of it – now get out of here before my Dad hears you.”
Jack scrambled to pick up the package from the grass, waved and hurried to the shadow of a nearby tree.
He peeled back the foil covered and popped it into his mouth. He felt the thick rich lump begin to melt in his mouth. He swallowed and felt it begin to course through his veins.
Ah, chocolate!
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