Creator1

“We only got one needle..” One last attempt to thwart this as he removed the needle from its sterile packaging.

“I guess I’ll go first, I’m the paying customer.” I continued.

“How do I know you don’t got AIDS or some shit?”

“Because I’m a virgin, Franklin.” He laughed and shook his head, accepting that he will be using after I am finished.

“Outside of that, we are going to do this right.” Franklin said, unzipping a black hard case that revealed a small metal cup. It was slightly larger than those metal twist-on lids from energy drinks. It looked sterile also being in a small, crisp plastic bag, this was next to a see through lighter, filled with fluid it hadn’t ever been used. Lastly, there was a string in the case. I was impressed, for being a homeless person, Franklin was always so clean and precise.

Franklin swung his arm behind the back of my seat and pulled out an unopened jug of purified water, instead of opening the jug he just stuck the needle through the top and sucked up as much water as the syringe would hold. He handed me the needle while he placed the jug back to its original spot.

He opened the small packaging and placed the contents in the metal lid.

“This is the cooker.” The small mound of powder sitting in the cooker looked like Nesquick or off color cinnamon, it looked innocent, not like something that kills more people than gun violence, but I guess that is the danger of it. Franklin handed me a rubber strap from the case sitting on his lap.

“Put this on your arm and start opening and closing your hand, like you’re giving blood.” He instructed as he took the syringe from my hand. He stuck the tip of the needle as close to the powder as he could have without touching it, carefully releasing the water into the cooker. The water flashed back and forth between appearing like the purified water it was and the mercury it became when it caught the street light. This didn’t last long, as the water was quickly absorbed into the powder in the cooker, turning into a light caramelized molasses color.

Franklin placed the depressed syringe in his mouth and reached for a cigarette in his ashtray. He did his best to brush off remaining tobacco and carbon residue off the butt and started heating the cooker. There was a vile smell off vinegar that rose with the small amount of smoke He placed the butt into the bubbling liquid, turning the bubbling molasses puddle into an awkwardly upright plump tan cigarette butt.

Franklin stuck the needle into the spongey filter and began taking back all the junk he had just flooded it with. The filter contracted almost violently, recoiling at its absence, a warning of what’s to come. The liquid was much darker in the syringe appearing almost black now, a sinister change from the warming caramel color of the filter. As the last of it was extracted from the butt there was a exaggerated smooching noise, signaling the end of the filters job. It was left crumpled, imploded, empty, why was I so eager to try this?

“You good with that now.” He said nodding to my arm, which now had several ideal candidates for injection.

“You ready?” I took a long pause. What was my hesitation now, perhaps I was for the first time analyzing my desire to shoot up. I had no real trauma, no hard times, I had never had anything nice or grand, but nothing bad either. What was I looking to escape from, I think I’m still trying to flee whatever it is I’m supposed to escape to. Maybe I was trying to feel something instead of feel nothing.

“Yeah, of course.” I said. He shook his head and positioned his body toward me, handing me the needle.

“Just stick this in and be gentle, then slowly push it in.”

“That’s what she said.” I said, eagerly snatching the needle.

“You’re going to go very quickly.” He warned. I took a momentary pause and stuck the needle into my arm and gently plunged down, took the needle out, tossing it into the cup holder and releasing the rubber strap sending it flapping down landing in the same place.

It was cold, Franklin gently let down my arm. I felt a rush of warmth, like experiencing a hug from everyone you’ve ever wanted a hug from all at once. It was the last thing I remember, outside of pure bliss. It wouldn’t last.