On the Edge of Wakefulness, Part 2
Chapter 9
Starr's voice fell onto Todd like musical chimes in a breeze, the car gently rolling along curving roads to Dorian's place. The drive was hypnotizing, soothing. Todd listened to her songs and stories, murmuring a hmmm every so often, ignoring Blair's eyes scrutinizing him through the rear-view mirror. He didn't really hear the individual words Starr said, couldn't quite make out the sentences, the lyrics, the lingering high a kind of thick glass, insulating him.
"Bubble boy," he sighed.
But the drug did not keep a certain truth from being so very loud, so very pummeling. He loved his daughter. And he admitted in the soon-to-be-fading light of heroin bliss that she loved him. He felt it in her squeezes, in her angelic kisses, and in her warm breath as she whispered into his ear. She smelled like soap and Chinese food.
Starr laughed and Todd smiled. She said, "Not bubba boy, you are a Pokemon."
He didn't understand that and just focused on her little mouth, how it puckered and twisted and stretched. Her big hazel-green eyes and creamy skin. Fresh. Untouched. All of a sudden, a shock of terror fired through him. As if... As if. He knew he kicked at the seats in a desperate grab of Starr, a terrified tight embrace, the car closing in on him hard… where we going, where we going… He could hardly breathe for the blinding panic that someone was going to take her and… and...
Blair slowed the car, came to a crawling stop, "The hell are you doing back there?" She turned around and stared at Todd. He had a wiggling Starr in his arms and was hunched against the leather seats, knees up, breathing hard, and looking out the windows. Sweat had broken out all over his face and neck.
"Daddy…"
She wiggled more and laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek, her small hand on his other cheek. "Are you scared?"
"Yeah, Todd, are you scared?"
He swallowed, gripping his angel to him even tighter, noise in his head now… hearing a lot of shit now… sweat pooling at the base of his back, but then it faded, reality sinking in again. This was Blair's car. This was her car. It was a cool night in Llanview. They were going to Dorian's mansion for a few hours of bonding and eating Chinese food and watching Disney. Blair had ordered extra Kung Pao Chicken and fried rice when she caught on that Todd's dinner partner had split, that Todd had never gotten any food. Starr was tiny in his arms, she was seven... eight... nine…
She was safe and untouched.
"Todd?" Blair asked again, her voice echoing in his head, and he latched onto her dishwater blond hair falling down the side of her porcelain face. She glared at him from the front seat. "Let her go, you're going to hurt her."
He did, he opened his arms and dropped his knees and licked his lips and felt his heart rate finally reach normal. Starr didn't let go of him though. "I'm going to keep you safe," she said. As if. He stared back at her, saying nothing. "You can count on me, Daddy."
"I know," he choked out, fingers digging into the leather.
Blair hissed wordlessly, turned back around, and the car moved again. Todd settled and went back to listening to Starr. When they finally arrived at Dorian's place, she bounded out of the car and ran to the massive front door, twisting the knob, the door opening. Light poured out and she disappeared into it. How could they leave the door unlocked like that? Todd slipped out of the car and eyed the house, Blair getting next to him. He stuck his hands into his jacket pockets. Looked at the ground. He was cold and found himself shivering.
She studied him, arms crossed. Her voice was deadened, emotionless. Said, "Pokemon's a cartoon. Pokemon are creatures who try to avoid being caught by 'catchers'. Your daughter, Todd, feels she has finally 'caught' you. She thinks you're like those creatures ... running, hiding, trying to avoid getting caught."
Todd bit down on his teeth, grinding them together noisily. Well, Pokemon. Blair wore big shoes and almost was taller than him at this point, as he hunched and leaned back on the car. "I should go," he said softly. He rubbed his face, sticking his hand back into his pocket. Felt the bulge of Paulie's bag through the fabric and stopped breathing a second or two or five. The high was fading and the pain was going to come back. What happened in the car was just a taste.
He turned around and started down the driveway, saying, "I gotta go."
Blair hopped, skipped and reached for him, grabbing his arm, "Don't you dare! Don't you dare take off on her now!"
"I'm bad for her," he said softly, eyes on her hand. She let go. "I...can't do anything right by her."
"That is such bullshit. She loves you and you love her. You think walking out right now is going to be good for her?!"
"I don't know...I just don't know."
"Who do you want to ask? Tim? Viki? Starr? You want to ask Starr what she thinks?"
"Blair...this...is too hard."
"'Too hard'? Well excuse the hell out of me. You think it's easy trying to explain YOUR absence to her? Trying to explain why you can't put her to sleep every night? Why..." That emotional stuff started to intrude again and Blair had to stop a moment. She took a deep breath. "It isn't easy explaining you to her. Period."
He sort of smiled sadly at her. "I am scared," he said. "I'm...afraid… to let her think there's a chance with me 'cause there isn't. I shouldn't have come."
Blair shook her head and looked towards the entranceway, its opulence shining and arrogant and so far above what she and Todd believed they were. She shook off their past. She wasn't in the mood to reminisce or deal with his self-pity right now; not with her little girl upstairs, dressing for him. Waiting for him. No way. If he left, Starr would be devastated. She pointed her finger at him, "Be a father to your daughter, goddamnit. Spend one measly hour with her and give her a proper goodbye. She'll fall asleep and then you can go back to wherever it is you're hangin' out nowadays. Roam the streets, throw yourself into the Llanview river for all I care, BUT...you will NOT walk out on her now."
Todd turned his face away from Blair, turned his whole self away and took aimless steps. A fist went up and he knuckled the side of his head. Childlike. He groaned quietly, seemingly in a sudden hell.
"Oh damn you, Todd," she muttered, stepping over to him and gently wrapping her arms around him from behind, feeling him tighten at her touch. She didn't release him. "I'm sorry, babe," she said, using an old term of love. "I really am. I don't understand what you're going through... they don't tell me anything. Not a goddamn thing." While she held him, she felt his muscles straining, trembling with effort, and she figured he was working hard to control his emotions. It was very strange to touch him; he was thinner than she remembered. There was a terrible cutting unfamiliarity, foreignness, and it reminded her of their collapsed relationship.
After a few moments, Todd twisted out of her hold, lifting his now-reddened, wet eyes to her, "I'm sorry," he said. He rubbed his face, hard and indelicately. Rubbed the snot from his nose on his sleeve. "I don't...wanna hurt her. I know she's waiting for me. I'm...sorry..." He glanced away a moment.
Blair could feel tears in her own eyes; he was hard to look at. He did not look himself, or well. He was deeply suffering, more than she had ever seen. He had lifted himself up! He always rose above everything! "I love you," she blurted out. "You know that, don't you? We may hate each other at times...most times...a lot of the time...but we'll always be tied to each other because of Starr. I will never do anything ever to jeopardize what the two of you have."
His expression changed at that, an eye narrowing, and a hard breath coming from him. He sniffled. "But you've been keeping her from me for months...months, Blair."
"This is the first time I've seen you anywhere near coherent – and that's not saying much with that little breakdown back there. You've been in a psychiatric hospital, Todd, for trying to cut yourself into pieces! I couldn't allow her along on your manic ride. You have to understand that… my God… you held seven people hostage… you lied about Georgie… you...were...are… crazy..."
He was quiet for a long moment. Said, "There were times I needed to see her. I asked for her and you said, no. She coulda helped the crazy."
"I was scared. Do you really blame me?"
The two stood there holding each other in their mutual stare, so much history between them, so much misunderstanding and understanding. They were tied alright by chains and ropes and anger and love and... Starr.
Todd shook his head, feeling so worthless, exhaling painfully, "No...no, I don't blame you." At that, Starr stood at the door. Light circled her like the biggest halo. An angel.
"Daddy! I put the movie on!"
She ran to him, bare feet on gravel and not caring, ran into his arms and he picked her up and held her tightly again. Over her, he glanced at Blair, conceding with his expression that leaving would have been a poor choice. Blair nodded back at him and shut her eyes briefly and tiredly.
Todd was always so much work.
Depression strikes the young and the old, the rich and the poor, the housed and the homeless. It can be very harsh with its pinpricks, cuts and scars. The worst part is that it separates you from other people, lifts you above everyone else like a lifeguard or a person on the gallows or a fish in a tank. Jedediah could see himself floating among fake rocks and fake seaweed amidst old food and new, swimming in his own waste. He watched the world through thick plate glass, and imagined himself jumping when someone tapped their fingernail against the glass.
They all stare with such buggy eyes. Buggy, nosey eyes.
Boo. Go away.
"Jedediah?" Jessica asked.
"What?"
"Aren't you having the tiniest bit of fun? You're sitting there like someone died. Lemme see a smile."
"Don't worry about me...mommy. I'm fine. Really."
Jessica sighed, holding boyfriend Christian's hand, there in the diner, in a noisy crowd of people. A college band was playing in a cleared out corner of the place making conversation difficult so Jessica just continued to listen. Angel Square was a changed place ever since the land-scam was busted up. People were livelier, happier. The diner became a real hangout for the college crowd, the students eager with their awareness and craving for political rightness. She, Christian, Jed, and one of Jessica's friends, Summer, were all sitting in a booth over chips and salsa, coke and water glasses and taquitos. She knew Jed was worried about Todd, but she believed in her uncle in a way Jed didn't. Yeah sure...maybe she was on the Pollyanna side of things, but he had come out of bad scrapes before. She was sure he would come out of this one, too.
Jed was a cute kid, Jessica concluded. Saw him stealing glances at Summer. She was freshman at Llanview U. and a little edgy. She was petite, had short hair dyed red, and proudly wore a nose-ring. She was the complete opposite of Jessica, in appearance, that is. They met in an art class and connected one afternoon over coffee, learning that they actually had a lot in common. They liked a lot of the same music, came from "good" families, and both yearned to break away from what was expected of them.
One other thing they had in common was excellent intuition. Summer leaned over to Jed and said in a tone that Jessica wouldn't hear, "Wanna bust outta here?"
Jed turned to her with a surprised expression, "God, yeah. I'm suffocating. And going deaf."
Summer laughed, shaking her head at his negativism. She spotted it the moment they met. For being so cute, he was a real stinker and she rather liked that. Liked his barely smiling at her and barely talking to her in spite of the fact that he was checking her out. She leaned across the table and spoke to Jessica, "Hey, Jess! I'm gonna go to the 'little girl's room'...'kay?"
Jess nodded and smiled, Summer turning to Jed and winking at him. He had to get up out of the booth for her to leave and taking a clue, he said to Jessica, "Me too. I'm going to the 'little girl's room.'"
Jessica laughed at him and admonished, "Come right back - fast."
"Yeah...yeah..."
He followed Summer to the back of the diner towards the bathrooms. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the women's room. Two girls were at the sink putting makeup on and complained loudly at seeing Jed. "What the...!"
He grinned and shrugged.
"Come on," Summer said. "Up and out." She was climbing on top of the sink and pushing open a window, the girls finally leaving, cursing Jed as they opened the door. When it shut, there was this nice whoosh of quiet that Jedediah sighed at. "Let's go," Summer urged. "Jessica's gonna be pounding in here if we waste time."
"Hell yeah," he said. At that, Summer jumped out of the window and Jed went right after her. Freedom. He smiled widely as they ran down the alley behind the diner, Summer laughing loudly and whooping. "Let's go, baby!"
After five minutes or so of hard running into the depths of Angel Square, they slowed down to catch their breaths.
"Shit...you run fast for a chick."
"Yeah...I'm used to running...I run a lot...as in running away. I'm the Queen of Slipperiness. It drove my parents nuts when I was in high school. They were relieved when I turned 18 and dropped me off at the dorm. They barely slowed down to let me off!"
Jed laughed in spite of himself. "How cool. That's cool."
Summer was digging around in a pocket of her red cargo pants and then pulled out what looked like a cigarette. "Wanna share?" she asked.
"Sure."
She had a lighter with her and lit up the smoke. That's when Jed realized it wasn't a regular cigarette. He bit his lip and felt guilty because if he smoked the joint, he'd be breaking a promise he made to Kevin. And considering what Todd was going through, the thought of any kind of drug wasn't very tempting. She inhaled deeply and held it out to him. He took it and gave a small puff, liking the smell and taste. Damn he missed it. He handed it back to her, smiling at her a bit and noticing just how very cute she was. He liked her laid-back style, her rebel nature.
They walked a ways down the alley in quiet, both comforted by it and the dark. The winter air, too. It wasn't snowing yet but it was close; there was a certain crispness that told a person the winter was coming. That it was here.
"So... Summer… where you get this stuff?" Jed asked, referring to the marijuana.
"Oh I got a friend on campus. He picks it up here actually… about two blocks away. Some kid here is sort of the 'main campus supplier'," she said, giggling.
"Can I ask you a question? You won't freak out or anything?"
"No," she spat, "Takes a lot to freak me out. Ask me whatever you want, sweetie."
"Do you know where to get...say, harder stuff?"
She stopped walking and looked at him up and down, "I hope it's not for you. You are way too young and… much too fine for that kind of garbage..."
He smiled and looked away, kinda having some sudden, impure thoughts about her. "No...it's not for me."
"What are you lookin' for? Coke? Ecstasy?"
"Heroin."
She took a step back. "Shit. That's some serious drugs you're talking there."
"I don't wanna buy it… I just wanna know where a person would go... to get it." He looked at her quite directly and she saw something she hadn't noticed before, some real pain in those hazel eyes of his. She reached up and touched his cheek and leaned in close. She kissed him on his lips, slowly and softly.
He pulled back taken completely by surprise, but liking it. A lot. He touched his lips with his fingertips. "What was that for?" he asked.
"I just wanted to, that's all. Is that okay?"
"Yeah… it's more than okay." He grinned, a touch of shyness. A little awkwardly that made Summer laugh. "But did you kiss me to avoid telling me where to buy dope?"
She smiled and laughed, and then didn't. "No...I didn't. Look, I don't know much. I have some friends who can probably connect me with someone. It's real risky when you start dealing at that level you know? It's a whole different world than..." She lifted the joint. "...this."
"Child's play?"
"You got that right!"
They were quiet as they walked again and he reached out to hold her hand, smiling to himself at the feel of her hand in his. It was nice and comforting. It sort of pulled him out of his depressive aquarium… let him look over the edge. Just head above water.
Jessica and Vicki were going to be really angry with him. It made him feel alive.
On the stretching couch in the family room, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Starr had fallen asleep in Todd's arms and he had allowed himself to doze off, too. Their 'measly hour' had turned into several sweet, precious ones. They'd watched Cinderella together, ate together. She tried chopsticks and tried to feed him the chicken and they laughed at the failed efforts. It felt good and real to Todd. He felt… almost normal. Well, as normal as one could be in his situation.
Blair had sat by on another couch, just watching them, accommodating them, being their "servant." She couldn't help but smile at their connection, a powerful one that hadn't faded in the least. Dorian was out for the evening which made the whole night even more familial. More private. But Todd's overall demeanor was highly disconcerting and Blair couldn't put her finger on what exactly was wrong with him. When she had seen them drift off to sleep, she curled up herself and drifted off, too.
Around midnight though, Todd awoke with a start and in pain. His arms were killing him and he felt sick to his stomach from the food; he had a headache. And he was dying for a hit. It was bad. It's all he could think about. To fly again. For his body to not hurt, for his mind to be deadened. He lay a long time, awake, feeling sweat again. He eyed the floor, the doors. A paranoia had snuck up on him. He could imagine a night-time visitor. Ghosts pressing him down. Keeping him still. He couldn't feel Starr with those thoughts lurking. As if, as if… He gasped, shuddered, and eased Starr off of him. Laid her on the couch more securely. Blair was on the other sofa, fast asleep as well.
The house was cold and dark with only the blue-grey light from the silent television filling the room. An advertising, only-on-TV played. A machine that turned vegetable and fruit into juice. He stared at the spinning green muck and it made him sick. He fumbled around for his jacket. He lifted it up and then dropped it. He wanted the heroin that Paulie had given him. He wanted the pain to go away, the physical pain and the pain of being in Dorian's house with Blair here and his memories gearing up to pound away at him. He felt them. Wolves at the door. Scratching at the base.
Lemme in… lemme rip your guts out. I'm hungry.
But worst of all, he had felt too much love. God… it's all he wanted and yet, now given that gift, he was afraid of it. Like with Téa. Like with Viki and Jed. He fought for love, fought to feel it, but it terrified him because he knew the inevitable – he would fail these people. They would fail him. Heroin offered safe love. Love he could feel freely because he controlled it. You want a kiss? Push partway down. You want a hug from your sister, your daughter, or to make love to your soulmate? Push the plunger all the way down. Feel the love, baby.
Madness! He dropped the jacket back on the couch.
Say, no, to the dope. Say, no. Go and lie back down and say, no, damn it.
He paced the living room, forcing himself to look at Starr sleeping on the couch.
LOOK AT HER!
God, it hurt. All that shit was back and they were scratching at his mind's door to let them in. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Lemme in. He paced. He fought to keep the images out because he should be fucking done with them! Jesus FUCKING Christ! But no... hahahaha! Big joke on him. His ass hurt. Pain fired up inside of him, right on through to his belly. Searing, hellish, pain. With one hard push, everything came to life.
"No, no, no...," he huffed, bending over, gripping his belly. He breathed to lessen the pain. Peter breathed hot stinky breath at his neck. Peter making him do things to him. Peter choking him. He hustled to the furthest corner of the room and slammed himself down, rocking himself, feeling his hands on him, a fist smashing against his mouth, the side of his head. Felt the carpet burn his cheek those times he had been thrown down. Felt the kicks of Peter in his stomach and the sting of his belt and the pain of his love. He heard Peter's voice telling him what a loser he was. What a failure. How impotent he was. And yeah, yeah, the coup de grace, the ugliest darkest mind-blowing stuff.
"I'll do anything you want," he whispered, "just tell me what it is. Just please stop. Please, please, please stop..."
Silence answered him. He got up at that, at the wolves having broken in through the door… blood dripping from their open mouths… and searched through his jacket. He landed on the pouch, groping it. He slowly pulled it out, looking over at Starr and Blair to make sure he hadn't woken them. Looking all around to make sure nobody was watching him. He stared at the pouch a while, rationalizing that he just wanted to see if everything was still there. That while he was sleeping, nobody messed with it. The thought of tying off made him itch. The thought of unwrapping the syringe made his mouth water. Go lie back down with Starr. Say no. Say no. He knew he could put it all away right now. The soreness he felt in his arms would eventually fade. He could even return to the hospital in the morning and meet with Tim; start to get better.
Say, no! Please...please...say no.
Except he couldn't say no… physically could not do it ...the want would not leave him alone. Todd felt a surge of suffocating hurt inside his chest. His eyes burned with unshed tears because he so wanted to feel that special kind of "good" with heroin. He wanted it. When he was on, Peter's voice would just become part of the background. The pictures would still be around, sure, but they were sort of blurred. Nothing was sharp or loud. It was like being underwater.
Yeah… there he was, sort of swimming in a pool of heroin chicken soup. And the fact that when he did it he felt his mother's love, that special sweet sugary warmth, well...it just sealed the deal.
Say, no. Say, no. He moaned softly. He was sweating a little, had a dry mouth. Blair stirred and Todd stood still waiting to see if she would wake up. She didn't. He sighed heavily in relief. He unzipped the pouch partway. He stared at the stuff inside. Re-zipped it.
Then he made a decision to just do a quarter bag, just to take away the physical pain along with the inside pain of being around Starr and being so messed up...and...and… everything else.
He padded to the bathroom, and closed the door.
Except it didn't lock.
"Damn it," he mumbled. What if Starr comes in? What if Blair or Dorian walks in? He battled back and forth and finally the stress of wondering about who could possibly come in grew too much for him so he yanked off his long-sleeved shirt. His arms were really hurting because they weren't used to this kind of harsh IV treatment. He didn't want to hit anywhere even close to those bruises right now.
So he thought about doing a vein on one of his legs. He'd have to take off his pants entirely, though, and that seemed risky. He'd be really exposed that way. He put his shirt back on, feeling cold and naked. This was fucking hell.
Paulie had said any thick vein would work. Lifting his shirt, he noticed a rather large one that ran from one side of his chest downwards. He traced his fingers along the blue and thought that it might work. He unbuttoned his jeans, continuing to follow the vein. He thought that if he bruised, it wouldn't be very obvious if it was more along his lower abdomen. He sat down on a lounge chair that Dorian had in the big bathroom. He listened for a while, hearing nothing but his strained breathing. Sweat broke out all over him.
Wait. Say, no.
He shook his head, no. He pulled himself up to the counter. Took a syringe and tore off its wrapper. Took the dope and poured some of it into the cap. He stood there with the open bag, battling over how much to use. He bit his lip. Sweated some more while glancing at the door. Rubbed the back of his neck. Had a hard time breathing. At that last observation, he dumped the near three-quarters of the bag into the cap. What the hell...everyone's asleep. He would just crawl back out there and sleep the rest of the night. It would be heaven and no one would know the difference.
That'll work.
He took the wrappers and put them back into the pouch. He mixed the powder up with water from the tap and, seeing it dissolve, pulled the liquid into the barrel through the cotton filter. Sweating totally now, he sat back down on the chaise lounge. With the rig held loosely in his teeth, he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, exposing that vein he'd been following earlier, among some other parts of himself.
He saw that the vein near where his appendix would be was quite visible and thick - on his right side. He swabbed the skin with an alcohol wipe that he had also unwrapped. Tossed the wipe to the side.
He had taken to not wearing any underwear lately for no apparent reason, but it suddenly dawned on him why. One less layer of clothing to be concerned about. He could practically taste what was coming. God, he wanted it. Needed it. Come on, come on, come the fuck on. He pressed on his skin with one hand and then laid the needle against himself with the other. He sort of sat that way for a few moments, leaning to the side, against the wall. God. Say, no...say, no.
He pulled the syringe away and stared at the cloudy stuff inside. Thought about Starr, about his perfect angel in his arms and how wonderful that was. How amazing it was to hold her all night in front of the goofy television with popcorn strewn everywhere and her Cinderella doll in his hand.
Love. Love. He didn't associate rape with this love. Not once did he think about the horrible things he did, nor about hurting her. None of that. When it came to Starr, all the hell just slowed down. It was as if she was a stop on this ride he was on. He had slowed down just long enough for a cool drink of love.
But it wasn't enough to drown all the bad.
Right now, he was speeding away from her like a freakin' bullet train. With a determined sniffle, he laid the needle back on his skin and stuck it into the blue of the vein, squinting at the pinch. He pulled back on the plunger and saw the blood. He sighed in relief. It does work there. He pushed down for a kiss of dope. Felt the easy warmth go through him. It was so good. Oh god, it was so so so so so so good, his eyes watering with relief. It was all going to go away. All the bad, all the hell.
Assured the junk was clean he pushed down all the way, gritting his teeth in anticipation of what would come. The plunger hit bottom...
"Oh sweet JESUS!" a hysterical voice yelled.
Todd yanked out the needle, just in time to catch a view of Dorian's opening mouth in his last moments of visual acuity but not in time to press against the bleeding vein like he was supposed to. The needle dropped to the floor and the rush hit Todd like a sledgehammer.
"OH MY GOD!" Dorian screamed as Todd jerked his head back, his whole body stiffening to the violent systemic orgasm of heroin coursing through him.
The dope was way purer than what he had been taking and he hadn't accounted for that in using as much as he had. A wonderful oversight for him – it was the most incredible explosion of silence to date.
He didn't hear Dorian's blood-curdling screams at all. Not a single one.
He smiled through the sublime haze, keenly aware that he was sitting back on Dorian's expensive ivory-colored chaise lounge with his pants undone, his dick and balls hanging out, and bleeding like a stuck pig. And though he couldn't actually hear her, he did understand that dear Aunt Dorian was screaming her fuckin' head off. The Queen of Chaos Supreme was probably waking up the whole damn house, including his baby girl.
Not that any of that mattered.
"YOU BASTARD!" Dorian pronounced, her hand covering her mouth then her eyes...then her hair.
One day he would probably look back on this and laugh. He would be laughing now if only he wasn't blasting through the Princess's galaxy of brilliant tranquility at such a dizzying speed. Blindly, he pulled down on his shirt to cover himself up. It was all he could manage. He could feel the nausea welling up, though. This comical nightmare was quickly moving from bad to worse.
"GET OFF MY CHAIR! OH MY GOD, IS THAT BLOOD?!" Dorian shouted.
He lay down even further onto the lounge, hoping to stop the sensation of his wanting to vomit. Not that it mattered. He was in heaven, his eyes closing, and his body weakening. Everything was gone. Blessedly, blissfully, gratefully… gone.
Moments later, Blair burst into the room and Todd could foggily hear her trying to calm Dorian down. Curse words were flying everywhere but Todd didn't care. He was too involved in the fading rush and in a hell of a fight to stop himself from throwing-up.
"Todd...oh God..." He heard Blair's voice but couldn't open his eyes to it. It was weirdly mixed up with his mother's voice. She used to call him Thomas so it was odd that he heard the name, Todd. Someone kept saying, "Oh CHRIST...JESUS...is that blood on my chair?! I think I'm going to pass out!"
"Dorian! Will you just shut up! Go take Starr upstairs ... you're going to wake her up with all your yelling!"
"Well what the hell is he doing?! IS THAT DRUGS?! IS HE ON DRUGS?! WAS HE INJECTING HIS...HIS...?!"
"DORIAN! Will you calm down?! Just...GET THE HELL OUT!" Blair yelled back, still trying to figure out what was happening. She didn't know what was wrong with Todd – why he just lay there with Dorian screaming. She couldn't figure out where the blood was coming from.
Starr. Her name sort of roused Todd but it was only enough to open his eyes to a frazzled Dorian threatening to call the police. He promptly shut them and continued to blitz through the current ride. He was also aware that he was going to be sick. Oh yeah. That oh-so-necessary purging of the shit that lay inside of him.
"If you don't get that…that…that JUNKIE out of my HOUSE and away from my NIECE, I WILL CALL THE POLICE!"
"Dorian! Stop...just stop...junkie? The hell are you saying…?"
Todd then mumbled something and tried to pull himself off the chair because he was going to throw up for sure. Blair looked at him struggling and asked, "Where are you going? You can't go anywhere like that!"
Todd kind of looked at her utterly dazed, half sitting up and half off the chair. All of a sudden, his abdominal muscles contracted and he pushed forward, falling on the floor, and vomited right on Dorian's bare feet, Blair jumping back nimbly.
More blood-curdling screams followed.
He held himself on on his hands, one hand gripping his stomach as he continued to spasm, vomiting onto the grey-swirled Italian marble. Blair stepped calmly aside pulling Dorian out of the way with her, telling her to shut up and mop her feet with a towel she was handing to her. Blair shut her eyes and just shook her head, Todd retching painfully in the background. Not a thing left. Actually, all Blair could think… was why there wasn't more food… he had hardly eaten a thing. What was wrong with him?
With Dorian continuing to argue with Blair over calling the police, Todd mumbled that he was sorry. He then crawled back over to the chaise lounge, evoking yet more objections from Dorian, "My CHAIR! DON'T LET HIM ON THAT CHAIR!"
"Oh, Aunt Dorian! Can't you see he's sick? We'll clean the goddamn couch - God...god..."
Todd was not coherent at all at this point. He slipped quickly into an unconscious state and just let himself drift. He kept seeing Starr and hearing her voice and laughter. Feeling her love. It was sweet and perfect and pure. Angelic. He saw something else, too, as he lay there. He saw the little boy that he knew was himself. He saw the little boy smiling and playing with Starr, together as equals. It was beautiful. He liked seeing that boy again. He wasn't dead at all. He'd always been around, just hiding is all. The boy was being mischievous, he could tell, and he smiled at that image, both of them laughing at the unhinged Aunt Dorian.
Blair had finally managed to get Dorian out of the bathroom entirely, telling her to take care of Starr who miraculously had not awakened with Dorian's screams. Blair figured that she must have been exhausted being with Todd again. She just plum wore herself out from excess joy.
Blair went to the kitchen and brought back things to clean up the bathroom with. She did so meticulously; cleaning, wiping. Watching Todd in his drug-induced sleep. She checked him several times though in a panic because she noticed that he would take long breaks in between breaths. As if he would simply forget to breathe.
When she finished cleaning the floor, she cleaned him up. Wiped his face. She glanced at his exposed hair and… a little more. Foreign. She'd almost forgotten what his naked body looked like. She swallowed hard, pain once again at the loss of them. Buttoned his jeans after cleaning the blood off his skin. Blood made sense with what Dorian said. A junkie. She glanced at the counter and saw a pouch there. She glanced around and saw a syringe on the floor. It had been his blood. He had definitely injected himself with something. She worked to take off his shirt. He was heavy, hard to move. She grunted as he manipulated his body to get the dirty shirt off him.
And when she did, that was when she got a good look at what her ex-husband had been doing to himself over the past weeks.
That was when she realized that she'd been crying all the while.
"Oh my god," she groaned. She touched the severe bruising. The cuts. "Oh my god…"
She then got a replacement shirt for him, another long-sleeved one which had belonged to one of Dorian's lovers. Blair chose a long-sleeved one so no one would see his bruises. Covering up for him. Instinct. She carefully touched his face and hair, shaking her head. She kissed his forehead and pressed her cheek against his, wishing she could know what would push Todd to do this. The most she remembered him ever doing was alcohol.
"What is this, babe, what is happening to you?"
She reached for the syringe and saw blood on the needle. She stood and checked the pouch. Inside was obviously the packaging for the syringe. There were several packages of white powder. She put the syringe into its wrapper and put the whole thing back into the pouch. Zipped it. She cleaned off the counter of any traceable dust. She had a distinct feeling she was going to see men in uniform at the door before too long.
She made herself comfortable on the floor with the pouch in her lap, looking at Todd lying curled up on his side. "Oh Todd. So who else knows about this little self-abuse of yours? How could you do this with our little girl… in the next room?"
Like clockwork, around 1:30 a.m., a sleepy Bo Buchanan came to Dorian's home, knocking gently at the front door, the lights of a police car spinning red in the driveway behind him and shining through the windows. Blair had hidden Todd's works in the library desk. She'd taken some whisky and had tried to have Todd drink a small amount, unaware that had he actually drunk some, it could have been a lethal boost. Lucky for him, he didn't take any as he was still basically unconscious. She then rubbed some onto his lips and spilled some onto his shirt to paint another story. To cover up the truth about his condition. The blood on the chair...she didn't know how to explain that. She knew what she was doing was wrong. She should have let him pay the penalty for a heroin possession charge.
But she couldn't. She just couldn't.
"This way...the junkie is over here," Dorian was saying.
Blair looked up from her spot on the floor and smiled at Bo. He nodded his head at her, "Blair. Dorian tells me..." He glanced over at a still-sleeping Todd. "She tells me that you guys had quite an evening."
"Todd was drunk… he threw up. Aunt Dorian unfortunately insisted on… intruding." She flashed Dorian a warning look.
Dorian ignored Blair and spat, "Bo, I opened the door and he was clearly injecting himself with something… into his … well… maybe it was his hip or something… he had... pants… open... I'm really too shocked..."
Bo looked at Todd and then at Dorian once more, chuckling, "Dorian..."
Blair interrupted, "Bo… she's imagining things. I came in here and he was on the couch and she was screaming like a mad woman… surprised to see Todd at all I'm sure. And he threw up. He threw up on Dorian. She's angry about that."
"Blair! I KNOW what I SAW!"
Before Blair could argue some more, Bo said, "Did he have any...equipment...here...?" Then Bo realized the obvious, "You cleaned up the bathroom, huh...Blair?"
She smiled slightly, "It was a mess. I couldn't leave it… not with Starr here. You don't leave vomit lying around."
Bo nodded, closed his eyes a moment. Turned to one of the officers, "Probable cause to do a search for illegal substances?"
The officer responded quietly, pulling Bo aside. "We just did a quick look-see and found nothing in plain view, Commissioner. Um… I do smell alcohol on him… pretty strong. The young lady did say Mrs. Lord was… shocked to see the man… er… exposed. Maybe… he was...doing something else?" The officer smiled sheepishly, making a crude motion with his hand to refer to self-pleasure. He tried to be discrete but there was no hiding what he meant.
Bo didn't smile back. "He's got a warrant out to be picked up as a danger to himself-" Todd had been reported as a "runaway" by Viki, but hadn't mentioned drug abuse. In all the years he had known Todd, he had never known Todd to take drugs so hearing what Dorian said sounded out of character. That in conjunction with Todd's current passed-out state and smelling like Jim Beam, well, Dorian's story seemed rather outlandish. On the other hand, Todd hadn't been doing too well – missing nearly three weeks – that crazy lodge incident, the suicide attempt. Todd's character just wasn't the same anymore. So...maybe not so outlandish?
The officer interrupted Bo's thoughts, "Sir, even though he's wanted… we have a full house in county tonight. Maybe we should just pick him up in the morning after he sleeps the drunk off. We've got a few people scheduled for release. More room at the inn. We'll get him booked and then transferred to the hospital."
Exhaling gruffly, Bo had to agree. The warrant was the lowest kind of priority. And he hardly looked to be in any danger to himself right now. A few hours delay wouldn't hurt anyone. He breathed out, tiredly. Said, "Dorian… I'm sorry… there's really nothing here that warrants a criminal arrest right now. We'll come get him in the morning. He'll be processed for a 72-hour hold in psych but we can't do that now. Better to let him sleep here."
"BO!"
"There's nothing I can do..."
Dorian then marched on over to Todd but Blair got to her feet quickly, "Back off, Aunt Dorian."
"I can tell alcohol intoxication… from something else. Tell me what that blood is on my chair? Huh?"
Bo walked over to the side of the chaise lounge and looked at the blood drops, a bit smeared, on the fabric. "Hmm..." He kneeled down. "Todd's?"
Dorian asserted, "Of course it's his, from where he was inserting a syringe needle. The vein must have been leaking."
Bo turned to look at Blair from his kneeling position, "Blair?"
"I don't know where that's from… maybe he had a bloody nose."
"Bo, let me check his eyes...if you let me lift his eyelids I can see if he's taking something...the pupils..."
Bo shook his head, "It won't make any difference."
"Why not?!"
"We can't do any processing tonight. The jail is full. No beds. Not to mention, there's no crime in being intoxicated in private. Possession, yes, but…" He looked around, "We got nothing. No syringe, no drugs. He's just sleeping. He's breathing okay, doesn't seem at risk."
"Oh my God… what kind of country do we live in?!" Dorian stomped angrily outside the bathroom.
Bo stood up and turned to Blair, suspicion in his eyes. He wandered over to the counter and looked across the marble counter top. He looked over at Blair, "It's mighty clean."
"We keep a clean house."
He stood up and spoke in a low voice, "Sometimes… consequences are good. Sometimes ... people need to experience them in order to understand the full impact of certain behavior. I can claim an overdose. Get an ambulance here. He'll be admitted right away."
"He'll be paying with a hangover, I'm sure." She swallowed hard, flashing steely eyes. She couldn't do it to him. He'd hate her. He'd beg her to not send him to the hospital. This she knew like the back of her hand.
Bo nodded his head, "I'm sure he will." He paused then asked, "Do you care about him, what happens to him?"
"Of course I do."
"Then why cover this up? You and I know both know Dorian saw what she saw. He wasn't in here masturbating. He was shooting up something and you're covering. If we cart him off to the hospital, he'll get the help he needs."
Blair swallowed hard. Of course there was truth. But she… couldn't do it. "He wasn't doing anything. I found nothing in here. It was clean other than what he threw up." She held Bo's gaze.
Bo cleared his throat and stepped over to Todd, smacking his cheeks fairly hard, speaking loudly as he'd been taught to do with drunks and drug users. "Todd! Hey! Come on, wake up Manning, wake up!" Blair stood there biting her lip, praying Todd wouldn't reveal anything.
Todd moaned something unintelligible and swatted at Bo, curling up tighter.
Standing straight and tall, giving one last lingering glance at Blair, Bo then said as he walked out the door, "Clear out. Nothing but drunk. An invited guest."
Blair let out a heavy sigh then muttered, "Damn you, Todd."
Blair was quietly sitting on the floor in front of a somewhat sleeping Todd, dozing herself, her head on the couch, near Todd's curled body. She heard gentle footsteps stop at the doorway to the bathroom. Viki's voice permeated the now dimly lit room and like mist, slowly drew Blair's attention, "Bad night, I guess?"
"You could say that."
"Dorian called me," Viki said, recalling the phone call. The sarcastic and angry phone call. Bo also called her. Viki wandered over to Todd and stood over him, shaking her head. Feeling a little guilty because she hadn't awakened Jedediah contrary to what she had promised – she had actually snuck out of her own house. In truth, she wanted to keep Jed from Todd… Viki didn't want him to see his father under the influence of heroin.
Another reason: she was sick with worry about Jed. He'd gone out with Jessica and her friends and had disappeared for an hour and a half with one of them. A young woman who Viki thought was a little too wild for him right now. Jessica had felt awful about it.
"Good old Aunt Dorian knows just where to turn when the chips are down," Blair muttered.
"Bo called me, too." Viki sat down on the chaise lounge and scooted in close to Todd who opened his eyes only briefly, moving over and scratching his chest. It seemed like forever since she'd last seen him. Viki covered her eyes with her hand and fought from crying. She wanted to scoop him up, take him home. And never let him out. What the hell was she going to do?
"He looks awful, Blair."
"Yeah...I know. And you haven't seen what's under those clothes."
Viki breathed in sharply, saying nothing.
He sniffled, stopped scratching, and seemed to go back to sleep again.
"You know, when I first met Todd, he was so arrogant and cocky and just... a real pistol," Viki said, smiling a little. Then, noticing an abrasion on his neck, she shook her head. Sighing sadly, she said, "When it came out that he had raped Marty, I was… sickened. I knew this boy… this man. He had stood in my house. He had spoken with my son, spent a lot of time with him. He had touched my furniture, met my Jessica. A violent, brutalizing rapist had touched me."
"That wasn't all he was," Blair said.
"Of course not. The point is I was afraid of that person. And angry. He had come into our lives and stirred us all up with an ugliness that… came straight out of Hell." They were both quiet being that there was nothing that could be objected to. It was the truth. "Then, things changed. I learned he was my brother. We were siblings. I learned ... that we were...alike."
"What are you saying? You were a rapist?"
"No, I learned that I had rage, too. I learned that Todd was more different ... from my father than he was from me. I saw bits and pieces of a human being in Todd. I grew to be compassionate. I learned to love him. We have much in common."
"People don't understand that," Blair added, remembering the times when she was practically spit on for marrying Todd. He stirred somewhat, waking up a little. He focused on Viki in front of him. She offered a glance back at him. A raising of her eyebrows at him. He smiled drunkenly at her, reaching out to hold her hand, and went back to his dreamy existence.
"No, they don't understand," Viki said, touching his face.
"Do you realize what happened tonight? He isn't drunk..."
"I know. He's abusing heroin. I take it he is using needles?"
"Does everyone know except me?"
"Not everyone, no. I'm sorry for not telling you. It seemed so hard just to have to tell myself. But ... it's clear, Todd wants us to know. He's daring us to know. He doesn't even realize he's doing that. Showing us and walking away. He went to Téa and told her. He's here now. Telling you. He's laying rats at our feet like a cat. Slinking away to see if we follow. To see what we'll do."
"Dorian will never be the same again thanks to Todd's rat. With Starr in the next room..."
Todd chuckled, "Funny..." He mumbled a couple more words and Viki creased her face trying to understand him.
"Funny?" Blair asked. "Letting Dorian catch you with a needle in your crotch is funny? Getting high with your sleeping daughter next to you is funny? DRUGS ARE NOT FUNNY, YOU BASTARD!" Blair scrunched her face realizing she was beginning to lose it.
He laughed again, "Dorian... is funny ... her mouth ... she looked funny ... screaming I think ... she has big feet for such a small person..."
Viki shook her head at his eaten words, at his muttering, "Todd...sweetheart...you can't stay here. Can you try to pull yourself together? This wasn't a wise move on your part and it might really affect your chances of seeing Starr again."
He tried so hard to focus on Blair but those dreamy pictures of his kept interrupting. He kept thinking he had a cigarette in his hand and the ashes were falling onto his skin through the shirt. So he kept scratching where they singed him. Viki repeatedly moved his hand away from himself. He couldn't keep his eyes open and his mother's voice was comforting to him. He liked hearing her. It always felt so good when she talked to him in this place.
Blair and Viki watched him as he tried to manage his mental state and Blair found herself crying again. "Oh God," she sniffled.
"Starr didn't see anything, did she?" Viki asked, holding onto Todd's hand to prevent him from scratching himself. He wrenched his hand away, though, and sighed in relief as he brought his hand to his chest and scratched at that stubborn itch. He finally stuck his hand under the shirt and scratched repeatedly at the same spot.
"No...she never woke up at all," Blair finally answered. "Bo is going to come back in the morning. Take him to the hospital on a warrant."
"Good. We've been hoping he'd go on his own. We left him alone on purpose. It's not working though. This is dangerous what he's doing."
"He'll kill himself, you know," Blair sniffled. "Maybe I should just throw him out into the cold. Why should I give him a warm place to sleep this off?" She'd actually heard of treating drug addiction that way. Back when she was a teenager they called it "tough love". Lock the doors… throw away the key. The rotten teenagers wanted to use? They could do it on their own time, in their own environment, on the streets if need be. They wanted to be with their family, they had to get into rehab. They had to behave. Todd would never do that though. It just wasn't him.
"Well… he's doing his damnedest to make sure we see him this way. I don't think he really wants this - I think he feels forced to do it. He wants us to react to him. I'm confused to tell you the truth, right now. This… tonight...was pretty..."
"Pretty stupid."
"Pretty unbelievable… even for Todd. Pretty loud and explosive. Literally."
"He wants us to help him...but how do we do that?"
Todd mumbled, "I'm here you know...I can hear you..."
"I know, Mr. Crack-head… I know that," Blair said. "I think this is my point… you need to tell us what it is you want from us."
"I don't use crack..."
"That's not my point!"
"Can I put this someplace..."
"Put what where?!"
He held his fingers together, his thumb and forefinger, "This...cigarette."
"You do NOT have a cigarette in your hand!"
"Hmmm...it's burning me...of course...oh wait...it's gone. Never mind." He moved his fingers around and brushed off the "ashes".
Blair covered her whole face with her hands. Viki stroked his hair back and he looked up at her lovingly, saying, "You know me, you...love me?"
"Yes...we all love you, sweetheart. You just can't do this..."
"Vik...I need to do this… I need to. It's the only way to feel something good…" He smiled at her, eyes half-closed. "I should go," he whispered, "...before Starr wakes up." He glanced at Blair, that same soft grin, staring at her beautiful face. He licked his lips and grunted softly at a stretch of his body.
"Do you know that you stop breathing? Did you know that you would go for at least 20 seconds without taking a breath?"
Todd opened his eyes again, and shifted on the chair. Studied the flowers on the wall. The grey swirls on the floor. He was drifting so deliciously. "Mmmm…. yeah," he answered. It was so quiet now. So peaceful.
"You know this?" Viki asked, horrified.
He shrugged and sank back into the chair. He said softly, sleepily, "I forget to breathe...it's...a lot of work. Did you take my cigarette away from me?"
He adjusted himself again on the chaise lounge and closed his eyes. Before long he was asleep, his hands clasped over his heart. There was nothing to say. Blair and Viki looked at each other, scared to death, still not knowing what it is that Todd wanted them to do.
What is it that he wanted?
To be continued….