Finding Hope (13 page)

“What are we going to do? Does anyone even know where they took Jacob and
Meera?” she cried completely distraught. “Do you think they’ll be back yet today?”

William
jumped in trying to provide comfort and said, “The worse thing they’ll get is a small fine and need to stay the night. It’s not like they killed someone. First thing in the morning I’ll go to the station and find out the details. For now we wait.”

With a plan in hand
, the tension melted away. In the morning William would go and free their friends. In the meantime, the remaining mystics had plans of their own.

White
shards of white light sparkled illuminating Hope’s clinched hands igniting the orange and yellow flame that blackened the glass. One after another, each member tasted the foul chemical smoke. The fine lines left from laughing wrinkled their faces, glued into place as their icy ritual spun on. Pure joy and harmony filled their circle while the receptors in their brains worked overtime. All sorrow disappeared as fresh dopamine splashed around their frontal lobes. The thought of Meera and Jacob become a thing of the past. Deep into the evening, Hope found herself drifting in euphoria feeling the planet spin in the galaxy. Electric pleasure streamed out her fingers and toes while her mind swam in pure satisfaction.

Throughout the night
, they explored their corner of the world. They ran down to the river, messing around with an old canoe until they finally made it back to their courtyard.

  Somewhere deep in her primal spirit, a voice whispered and nagged, “What about Meera and Buhina’s Jacob? Have we actually forgotten our friends?” Hope’s eyes were opened watching the others completely enjoying their chemical high. Buhina was dancing and David was spinning while William sat with arms stretched to the universe. Nobody was worried or even concerned about their friends. They just played in the fantasies they created for themselves.

The sun rose while the group carried on. It had been forty-eight hours since Hope had last slept. The fragile glass pipe began to glow again. For hours and hours the tattered crew remained fixed on their master, enjoying life, each other, and their precious empty minds.

“Where’s William?” David finally said. “Did he go back to the river?”

“He went to check on
Meera and Jacob, remember?” Hope replied. “He should be back anytime now.”

As if on cue the group noticed William’s bicycle heading toward the camp. With a crash, William jumped off his bicycle eager to share what he knew.

“Well, the cops got ’em. Charged them with petty theft and resisting arrest. They can get out tomorrow, but the fine is two hundred and fifty bucks. That means we need to come up with twenty five silver coins to spring them,” William informed. “I have thirteen left. How about you guys?”

David checked his bag and said, “I have another eight.”

“I have seven, but was hoping to keep four for a rainy day. Right now, I guess it’s raining.” Hope said counting the coins.

“I’m broke. I used the last of mine for the meth,”
Buhina replied. “Still, let’s split it evenly, and I’ll pay you guys back when I get more money.”

“So tomorrow we’ll go back and get Jacob and
Meera. It will suck to lose the money, but what can you do?” William conceded. “Look what I did score though. I ran into an old friend and he hooked me up. Check it out.” William opened his hand and produced six little baggies of black little balls. “Chiva, can you believe it. I can’t believe we actually got heroine,” William said excitedly with his eyes glassy white.

He quickly unwrapped the old yellow
syringe his friend had supplied and began cooking the black tar in a small steel dish. “You guys ever try this? This will grab you right in the pooper. Who wants in?” William said as he dropped a small piece of cotton in the tiny dish.

Buhina
stepped up first and filled her veins with the hot brown liquid. She fell back in bliss. It was David’s turn next, who enjoyed every last drop from the needle. He laid back and fell into the clouds above.

“Does it hurt?” Hope asked clearly uncomfortable. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I won’t lie to you. There’s a poke, but then it will all be gone. It’s like a rocket where warm waves of air wash over you taking away everything,” William said confidently. “You’ll never forget it.”

Hope slowly took her arm out of her
jacket, winced, and looked away while William delivered the dose. She slid into her chair and through the boards that were supporting her body into a pool of flesh on the ground. She felt it instantly, as imaginary fingers warmed every nerve in her body, spreading out to her muscles, and finally compressing into her brain. She felt nothing but warmth and bolts of pleasure as the hard cold ground caressed her body like nothing she’d never felt before. Her eyes rolled back and her lids slid shut.

Chapter 11

The Beast in the Mist

Sunlight poured through the thin glass window of the RV. Its inexpensive materials were barely covered by tacky plaid curtains which reminded of simpler times. Along the bottom of the window in big red letters, instructions told what needed to be done. It read, “For Emergency: Pull Down on Handle.” A small, frail man sat next to Hope as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

“Would you like
more water or some food,” Anthony asked Hope who was huddled on the fold-out couch. “You got to get something in your belly if you want to get strong,” he urged with a smile. Hope slowly opened her eyes and signaled for a drink. “You’re back. You’ve had quite a ride. I know you’re feeling like hell right now, but give it a couple minutes. It will pass,” Anthony said knowing very well how she felt. “You kids today think you’re made of granite. That shit will catch up on ya real quick. Are you hungry?” Hope sat up with her head spinning, leaving spasms of pain in her empty stomach. “You need to eat as soon as you can. That will settle your guts. Trust me,” the elderly man said in a loving yet firm tone.

“Hi Anthony. Y
ou’re the last person I expected to see. How long have I been out?” Hope asked with a grimace on her face and vomit on her shirt.

“It’s been about three days. It was touch and go for a bit but you pulled through,” he said lighting a hand rolled cigarette.

“How are you feeling?” Hope asked Anthony. “Just a week ago you were in pretty rough shape.”

“Well, I finally said to myself, enough already, either kill me or let me go. I guess the virus was all done
with me so here I am,” Anthony replied smugly. “Plus, I really needed a smoke.”

Hope sat and had her first real conversat
ion with Anthony over the leftover rabbit he’d cooked up. “Eat, eat! The more food in your belly, the better you’ll feel. The day after a good run is always hell. When I was young, I loved the needle too. I remember this one time, back when I was twenty eight… maybe twenty nine, I was so strung out I lost an entire month. I was traveling with friends through Arizona, and we ran into some bikers. We partied so hard, I remember passing out in Flagstaff and finally coming to my senses thirty days later in Drexel Heights. Now that’s a bender. I even had my birthday in there somewhere but don’t remember a thing. That’s right. It was my twenty-ninth birthday,” Anthony said chuckling to himself. “Those were the days.”

Hope listened to the old man while trying to force down the firm, gamey meat. “I’m too old now. That shit would kill me. But when we were young
, boy did we have some wild nights. Sara and I used to hitch-hike across California drifting with the wind. It was a different time in the early sixties. A couple kids could make their way working odd jobs and relying on the kindness of strangers,” Anthony smiled remembering the nostalgia. “It really was better back then, you know. Seems like things are starting to shape up the way it once was. Since the collapse, people are helping each other. They’re spending time with their neighbors and actually re-connecting with the land.”

Hope looked at the tired, old man with confusion. It almost sounded as if he was happy the country fell apart. “But think of all the people who died. So many lives wasted,” Hope said struggling to understand.

“I know dear. What happened that day was horrible. I just wonder if what was happening at the time before the collapse was actually worse. The people who gave up when the lights went black were already dead, their lives wasted in front of the television. They woke up one day servants to a system they didn’t understand to slave away at a job they hated only to come home and disappear in front of the boob tube night after night,” Anthony responded. “What kind of life is that?”

Hope quietly digested Anthony’s words, consumed with the new perspective. “But all those things improved our lives. They gave us so many things through music…
and video… and an entire new world of entertainment,” Hope explained refusing to accept his premise.

Anthony shook his head patiently and replied, “All that stuff taught us was how to consume. Did our lives really get better? Sure, all that polished plastic was nice, beautiful in fact, but didn’t it also demand our undying devotion. We had to trade away our time with our families
and children in order to work and pay for all that junk we didn’t need. The deeper we swallowed these products, the more we became their slaves. What’s the difference between a slave in the fields and a slave in an office cubical? Nothing. The sinister thing about the whole mess is that these items were built around our selfish individuality. As we plugged in, we disconnected from everything around us. We lost our humanity.”

Hope sat quietly
swallowing large chunks of rabbit flesh not knowing what to say. “Listen to me, rambling on like an old hippy. No reason to dwell on things in the past. Look, it’s beautiful outside. We’re among friends, and our bellies are getting filled. It doesn’t get much better than this,” the old man said as he put his dish in the small square sink. “You know, I was wondering something. Maybe you could help me with it. I love those kids outside. They remind me of myself when I was their age. That’s why Sara and I look after them. But let me ask you this,” Anthony peered deeply at Hope. “Why are you here?”

Hope was caught completely off guard by the kind man’s direct question. She stuttered and stammered unsure how to respond.

“Don’t get me wrong dear, I really enjoy you being here with us – and I know the rest of the group feels the same. But you’re not like us. You’re hiding from something. The question is, from what?” the gentle man asked carefully.

Hope began to feel cornered by the change in conversation. “I’m just
… well… because I have nowhere else to go. I like playing music and so do Buhina and Meera. We… they asked me to come… I mean stay here, and help them,” Hope answered feeling unwelcome. “Things just haven’t been working for me. I seen a lot… I mean, my son just… I had to… because my husband… I needed a place to go… a place to call home for a while.” Hope covered her eyes and began to cry.

“Oh sweetie, don’t cry. You can stay as long as you want. You can call this place home for as long as you need. I’m just trying to say you have so much left in you. The world is a better place with you out there in it. You have so much left to give. The others are in the twilight of their lives while your story is just beginning,” Anthony said confidently. “I just don’t want you to hide yourself away.”

On some level she knew Anthony was right even though she couldn’t admit it to herself. Rather than grabbing the moments of sincere concern and wise advice, she became angry. “I don’t get it. If you want me to leave, just say so. I can be gone by nightfall,” Hope replied angrily.

“I don’t have to listen to this.” Anthony recoiled,
back pedaling his words. “I’m sorry dear, I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, if I need your help, I’ll ask for it. Is that
OK with you?” Hope answered sarcastically.

She then stood, put her dish in the sink, and stormed out of the old camper. Standing in the courtyard, Hope began to feel itching on her neck and face. She needed a fix, anything to erase the feelings that had surfaced. She loo
ked for anyone that could help. As she relaxed, her nerves settled. She noticed David sitting in a chair next to Buhina.

“Hey guys, I feel like shit. I need something to get me going. Hey where’s
Meera and Jacob?” Hope asked.

Buhina
was laying back in her chair oblivious to what Hope was saying. David looked up at Hope and flashed a sickened smile. “Hey Hope! Hey are you holding at all? We’re really low and anything would help,” David replied completely ignoring Hope’s question.

“No David. W
here are Meera and Jacob? We were supposed to get them out two days ago,” Hope said in disbelief.

“Yea
h, about that. We ran short. We were planning on borrowing cash from Sara and Anthony, but they’re broke too. Tomorrow we’ll go get them,” David explained as he snorted a small amount of brown powder from his dirty knuckle.

“Where’s William?” Hope demanded.

“I don’t know. He left yesterday,” David replied.

“And where’d you guys get the money for that?” Hope said pointing at David’s little baggy.

“Well, why do you think we’re short?” David replied as if he was playing a game.

Hope was livid. She couldn’t believe they spent the little money they had on drugs. She was especially annoyed with
Buhina who was sitting with her head back drooling all over herself. She wasn’t mad about the situation or even that they were running low on what she so desperately needed; she just couldn’t believe the disregard they had for their loved ones. She felt the itching on her face move deeper into her skin and began to feel the sickness of withdrawal. She had to do something but didn’t know what. She didn’t understand how they could do this to Meera and Jacob. Without them, how were they going to make more money? She needed to think. She paced back and forth in their little courtyard disgusted by her fate. She needed a plan, but nothing came to her. She needed more space. She walked out into the park where the compound sat like a fortress. Still nothing came to her. She was consumed by the disappointment she felt. A tiny thought began to creep across her mind. She could hear Anthony speaking in her splintered mind, telling her that she wasn’t like the others. She could see his face and his kind smile as he spoke the words saying she had more to do with her life. Like a lightning bolt it hit her. She knew she had to leave St. Louis.

Hope began to walk. Su
ddenly her frustrated walk turned into a jog as she summoned everything inside her to break free. She ran back into the compound and grabbed her tiny bag. The knots in her stomach and the pounding in her head screamed for her to stop. Everything inside her told her to sit and join Buhina in forgetting the pain of life. Hope didn’t stop. Despite her the agony in her body, Hope’s mind pushed her out of the grasp of the mystics and the chemicals she needed. She ran to the river and found the old steel canoe. The sun, creating shimmers of gold on the green river full of debris, beckoned her onward. She slid the rusted boat into the cold November water, tossed her bag onto the dirty floor, and jumped in. Grabbing the only paddle they had, she pushed herself away from the bank. Hope broke free from St. Louis.

The canoe floated along the desolate bank, powered by the mighty Mississippi’s current. Hope
lay across the cold steel floor terrorized by fear and withdrawal. At times she slept and sometimes cried, but most of the time she withered in pain, vomiting and shaking her addiction away. After three days of isolation in the water, Hope regained her composure. She needed food and water but knowing the dangers in rural America, she decided to look for an area far from people. As soon as she found a clearing in the trees far away from civilization, she pointed the boat to the shore. Hope found herself alone in the wild. Her small bag in hand, she moved forward on foot. The winds slapped her face making her pull her winter jacket tight against her body. She pushed on. The difficult terrain bruised her tender feet in boots not made for hiking. She pushed on. The hunger in her belly and void in her mind told her to stop. Hope pushed on.

After three days on foot, her body began to break down. The only thing she’d been consuming was water from small streams. Without any understanding of survival and being completely disconnected from the earth, Hope was lost in a foreign new world. Her mind was broken as images flashed in front of her ey
es. She walked without stopping across vast open fields and rolling brown hills. As the forgotten landscape touched the cloudy sky, her mind played out her life. She walked and saw Julian playing in the snow. “Mommy, Mommy… look at me, I did it,” Julian said as his image faded away. She saw her father smile in his special way as she hit the progression perfectly. Moments in her life tortured her as she pushed on through the countryside.

When
she reached a road that crossed the vast stretch of emptiness, she walked across, not noticing the asphalt below her feet. Still deep in her memories, she watched with tears burning down her bitter red cheeks as Thomas first said he loved her. She found herself on the edge of the tree line of a vast forest and entered without a second thought. Trees clawed at her face as she stumbled and struggled through the black terrain. Driven to the east, she continued her pilgrimage.

Through the night
, she pushed deeper into the woods, which occasionally opened into small clearings. Oblivious to the changes in her surroundings, Hope continued to relive her life. She kissed her first kiss and tasted her first drink as she walked with giant sores bleeding in her boots. Unsure where she was going, she kept moving east. The full moon set the world aglow with haunting beauty while small icy flakes whirled among the treetops. Unable to notice the world around her, Hope crawled slowly through her memories. Stepping out of the trees, she came back to the present as the earth took a breath. Standing on a high ridge in the darkness, Hope could see the land sprawl out for miles and miles before her. Down in the valley, twenty or thirty miles away, Hope saw a large town cloaked in blackness with its rooftops sparkling in silver moonlight.

Hope finally spoke, “I can’t escape.”

She collapsed along the ridge, unwilling to go on. Completely exhausted, Hope gave up. She found a small depression among the stones that shimmed in the darkness to lie down to die.