Addicted In Cold Blood (29 page)

The woman sighed. Xzion found himself listening, shocked at his own interest. Something about the counselor drew him in, and he could tell by her softness, her genuine empathy, that the people around her trusted her with their deepest secrets, just like Jayme. They both had a magic, something he wasn’t accustomed to seeing. Regardless, his attention drew back to Jayme...

Who was the drug addict that she loved so much?
Was that a lie, like the name Claudia? He didn’t think so; she said it too clean, too pure, without a bump of hesitation. She said it like she meant it, like the kiss she gave him, and the words they exchanged. She said it like it was truth wrapped tight, offered to him and everyone in the room on a silver platter. She said it like it was in her heart...

Heart...

One thin man with a strange twitch about him stood, placed his empty cup under his chair, and moved about nervously, from foot to foot. His thinning blond hair clung to the plaid shoulders of his worn coat. He cleared his throat, tapped his foot and looked over at Renee, his face drawn and full of apprehension.

“Yesterday I saw my daughter for the first time in ten years,” he began. “I told you all ’bout her, and her mother. She ain’t want anything to do with me...hadn’t seen her since she was fourteen. She was embarrassed, you know, having a dad in prison. Then, when I got out this last time, her mom had moved. Couldn’t find ’em. I relapsed so she stopped speaking to me. All I wanted was my daughter, but I made my choices, you know?”

Everyone nodded. Except Xzion.

“That is the price ya pay, when you live for that next high.” His smoky blue eyes watered. “She’s a beautiful girl!” His voice shook. “Gotta grandson and granddaughter now. I ain’t laid eyes on ’em, but she showed me their photos. I want to build trust with her, so I can have her back in my life. Told her I’ve been clean for one year and seven months now. Showed her my certificate, too. She seemed proud but I wonder still if I’m too late. She said she always wanted me in her life again but I’m so mad at myself, because after I saw her, I wanted to get high. It was so strong, all that pain came flooding back. I could see in ‘er face what I’d done to her. She and her mother struggled, couldn’t make ends meet. And where was I? In a cell or out in the street committing crimes...blowing the little money we had. I didn’t get high.” He grinned, his eyes narrowing as he canvassed the room. “I made a call to my advocate, he talked me down. So, I’m still clean and sober...” The man took his seat.

“One day at a time.” Renee rocked in her chair, giving that warm smile once again to the man. “Just take it one day at a time, Andy. You can’t rush the process. You’re doing just fine in this moment in time, and that goes for you and your daughter as well. She is older now, just be patient.”

The room was quiet for a moment, then someone else stood up. The tall woman commanded the room. Her large breasts jetted out like rockets, and her hefty body gave a sense of protection to her no doubt. She was like a mountain, intimidating and not going anywhere. Her mouth was small, drawn downward, and her smooth dark brown complexion glowed. She shifted her glossy dark eyes from side to side, as if trying to figure out how to begin.

“Hi, everyone.” She smiled weakly.

Xzion was surprised by her dainty, soft voice.

“My name is Juanita and this is my fourth meeting with this group. I usually go to the eight o-clock one over on Bradshaw but I had another engagement.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Is it okay if I sit back down and speak?” She shot a look at Renee.

“Of course, Juanita. We let people stand or sit…whatever you prefer.”

The woman nodded and took her seat. She rubbed her hands together.

“I’m ready to talk now, about the past.”

Several people nodded.

“As you know, my drug of choice was crack cocaine and I honestly never felt I was a drug addict until I got busted and given the option of jail time or recovery. At the time, it was actually a hard choice for me. I thought that because I only used a few times a week, I was okay. I was functional. I had a job, my family—barely, but I had them—but I was in complete denial. I look back and see everything that I was losing. I lost trust. My best friend didn’t want me around, I was a thief. I had cleaned my account out, ’cept for mortgage money. I guess I drew the line there and that made me feel like I was doin’ okay.” She shook her head. “And my kids didn’t want to live with me anymore. I’ve been trying to get my mind around the issues that started it, stuff I hadn’t addressed. Things I hadn’t shared here, only shared with my counselor and tonight, I think I’m ready. I know I’m ready.”

“Alright! This is wonderful news, Juanita. We are here for you, go right ahead,” a small woman said as she swung her leg back and forth.

Juanita nodded. “My dead father’s best friend raped me from the time I was seven, until the age of twelve. He was helping my mom out after my dad died. I guess he thought he was owed something, I told my mother at his funeral.” Juanita gave a weak smile, one filled with pain. No one seemed to blink an eye at the horrid revelation.

“She believed me. I didn’t think she would, but she did. You’d think that would have gotten me through, made it okay. The man was dead after all, took his own life, and my mother never made me feel ashamed, but no counseling came. Nothing was offered. We just went on with life, business as usual.” She paused. Xzion’s stomach turned. He didn’t want to hear this and worse yet, a story like this would not have made him feel anything at all, but today, that wasn’t true. He hated it, every damn syllable.

“Then, I got pregnant at fourteen. Lost that baby...my mother and I never told anyone about it. It was just the two of us. Then, when I was sixteen, she got remarried. My stepfather was fine, he was nice. Yes, Dave was nice but he took the only friend I had away from me, so,” she shrugged, “I resented it. I started getting real wild, partying, not coming home. My grades dropped. My mother told me to get my act together. I didn’t. My mother had another baby. That was the final straw for me. I packed my shit, ’scuse me, my stuff, and moved in with a friend. It broke my mother’s heart. She asked me, when would I stop being mad at her? I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about. At the time, I didn’t. But, she was right. I hated her for not noticing what was happening to me. I hated her for letting that man be around us, a guy that would do something like that, and I hated myself, for not saying anything—for believing that it was normal, just like he told me. I hated that she had a new friend, that I was replaceable. That’s how I saw it, you know.” She nodded at her own train of thought. “That she replaced me. Everybody did...

“I started using later in life and that’s why I was able to stay in denial because I never used drugs prior, didn’t have a history of this. I’d drink on occasion, but nothing more. Then, when I was twenty-three, I met my husband and got married. I stayed in the church from that point on. My husband was a preacher. I was the first lady. Everything was goin’ great for a long while then...” her eyes watered, “my mother died. Hadn’t spoken to the woman for a length of time, because I was doing these retreats, travelling. She was sick, had breast cancer. Didn’t tell anyone... I lost my best friend, again.” The woman took a deep breath.

Xzion leaned forward in his seat, and looked at the woman. Really looked. Previously, he only saw a cardboard figure, she wasn’t flesh and blood, but now, things were changing. He saw something inside of her, and it grew with each word she spoke. He’d read about all of this, seen several documentaries, but nothing compared to seeing and hearing it in person. He hadn’t been moved or cajoled. They were just stories...Now, he had a face to match with the sordid tales, a voice he could hear and eyes he could meet. You could see the anguish and misery on these people’s faces, their daily struggle. Maybe they were weak, just like he’d professed, but now he saw that weakness was not only a crutch, but protection. It was the one lifeline left to being human. Weakness meant you needed help, and for some, asking for help was actually strength.

“Well, that was it for me!” Juanita looked around the room as she slapped her upper thighs. “I had gotten drunk after I saw my dead mama in the hospital, and went to a bar...drove to a bar way across town so none of the parishioners would see me. A handsome man was in that bar, I told him of my problems. Slept with that man that same night!” She slapped her leg again, laughing—a dismal laugh, with misery coming to the surface for all to witness.

“Had never had an affair, ever. After we had sex, he pulled out some crack, and we smoked it together. My husband kept calling me; I turned the phone off and stayed with that man for the entire weekend. Left my kids and husband in a mess... I finally came back home, pretended I had just needed some alone time, and never spoke of the incident. I planned my mother’s funeral along with my stepfather, pretending I was just fine, but a few days later, I called that man again, and got more crack. He wasn’t a dealer though. He introduced me to one, and I’d go to him two, three times a week.

“I kept my job, but then my husband noticed money missin’. I couldn’t explain it. I was gone sometimes days at a time. Then, I got real brazen with it. Someone was stealing from the church, too. I pretended to be outraged until my husband confronted me. He’d known it was me...told me to get my act together or he was leaving. I’d heard that before, my mother told me the same—told me to get my act together, or she’d put me out. I moved out, called her bluff and to him, I said, ‘Bye!’” She huffed, looked away.

“I hated him for being good to me...didn’t think I deserved it. He stayed with me anyway, but my kids wanted out. Nothing breaks your heart more than hearing your daughter, your first born, tell you she hated you. And I could see she meant it.

“My life was falling apart. My husband kept praying for me. I stopped going to church, told him I didn’t need his prayer. He froze the accounts. I didn’t have any money, so I started stealing again, even sold myself a few times...” She paused, quickly wiped tears away and continued. That’s when I got busted. Cops got me for solicitation...had to go to court. I chose rehab. It saved my life, my marriage...my kids. I had been in deep trouble, from the time I was seven. I was in total denial about how I got where I did...thought I had it all together. Now, I just try to focus on my family and staying clean. I get the urge sometimes, if those dark memories come back...but I fight. It’s my testimony and now, I talk to children who are victims of abuse. It has been easier for me to talk to kids than other adults about this—until now. I needed to come clean, make a difference. We only get one life, and mine is precious.”

A small smattering of applause broke out.

“I gotta give back, help at least a girl or boy out there, to not stay silent or blame themselves. If you don’t address it, it comes back to haunt you.”

“How old were you when you first tried crack?” Xzion was shocked at hearing his own voice aloud. It almost sounded as if someone else were speaking. He blurted the question before he had a chance to examine himself and talk his way out of it. Jayme looked at him, a faint smile on her face.

“I was thirty-three. I’m now forty- two.”

Silence filled the room. Jayme began to squirm in her seat, causing Xzion to move slightly away from her, giving her room. She slowly rose from her chair.

“Hi, my name is Claudia... in case anyone forgot.”

“Hello, Claudia,” everyone said in unison.

Xzion looked up at her, his eyes fixated on her beauty. The curves of her body, the way her hands nervously gripped the fabric of her burgundy pants… He was in awe of her, drowning in love. He was also concerned, very concerned.

What is she going to say? Shit...please, please don’t do this, Jayme...

He sucked in air, bracing himself. He’d scanned her several times, knew that there were no drugs in her system since the first day he’d seen her in that strip club. The situation scared him; like a Pandora’s box, he didn’t know what to expect.

“I have a best friend. He...”

He? Her best friend is a he?
New emotion launched...pangs of gooey, green jealousy...

“...is my brother.”

Sighs of relief escaped Xzion’s lips. He rubbed his knees and stared down at the ground, concentrating on a cookie crumb between his feet.

“My brother is a wonderful person. He always protected me, helped me with my school work, and is just the type of person you’d want for a best friend. I watched him change from a good person to someone I didn’t even know. His drugs of choice are alcohol and cocaine.”

Xzion felt himself growing warm all over, tingly. His brain felt as if it may be swelling, he wasn’t sure...

“My brother is gay. He has known since he was a little boy. Our parents are very religious and strict, especially my father. My dad told him being gay was a sin, that he’d go to hell. I know better than that, a lot of people know better than that, but he’d prefer to lose his son than accept the truth. They tried to pray it out of him. The lack of acceptance from them forced him into a downward spiral. To appease our parents, he started dating girls, but he didn’t want to. That was when the drinking began. He was on the basketball team, popular...if someone found out he was gay, his reputation would be trashed. My brother is smart and handsome and for some reason, the world thinks if he is gay, too, he is suddenly less smart and handsome.” Her eyes watered.

I should’ve known this was going to happen... she’s going for the gusto...