The Jigsaw Man - By Gord Rollo Page 0,2

dementia. He

rarely took any of his own drugs, instead saving them

to barter for food, booze, and, like today, the services

of a young runaway.

Don't read too much into that. J and I weren't bad

guys. This was just the way life worked on the street, a

business deal for people who had nothing else to offer.

Drugs for sex—where was the harm in that?

"I'm in," I said. "Lead the way."

Blue J winked at me, dug in his pocket to hand each

of us a blue pill. The girl and I dry-swallowed the pills

without even asking what they were, then she marched

off down the sidewalk. J and I hurried to keep pace.

She took us several blocks uptown, then veered into

an alleyway between a Chinese restaurant and a Bank

of America. She was living beneath a rusty, metal stair

case that led to the second floor of the restaurant.

Somewhere she'd found a big green tarp and had strung

it under the stairs to make a fairly effective roof. The

tarp draped down near the ground, giving her shelter

from the elements and, more importantly, us a small

degree of privacy.

Inside, J and I went right to work, getting her out of

her gear in a hurry. None of us were expecting romance,

and foreplay just wasn't happening when three drugged-

up losers were huddled inside a four-by-ten-foot shel

ter. I was getting ready to do my thing when J blew the

whole deal.

"What's your name again, sugar doll?" he asked.

"Arlene," she smiled, her eyes already glassing over

from whatever it was J had given her.

Oh sbit.

. . .rain pouring down as 1 run, tears just as heavy flood

ing from my eyesy stumbling blind past the dark buildings

and parked cars until I spot the flashing lights of the police

cars and ambulance. I run harder, panic and desperation the

only things keeping me on my feet. Then Vm there among

the twisted metal, policemen pushing me around until I can

stammer out who I am. Their attitude changes then, but

all I notice is the upside-down car, and the diluted puddles

of crimson staining the pavement below the driver-side

door . . .

That was it for me. My hard-on did a nosedive, and I

made a dash for the alleyway, throwing up my stomach-

full of water with my jeans around my ankles. Blue J

poked his head out of the tarp to see what was wrong

but I waved him away, pulled up my pants, and bolted

for the street.

Arlene was my daughter's name. Is her name, I should

say. She survived the crash that killed my wife and son

that awful, night, but not her old man's stupidity in the

months and years to come. Good thing my sister-in-law

Gloria was good enough to take care of her when I couldn't.

I haven't seen Arlene in nearly three years. I wanted to, of

course, but by the time my head had straightened enough

to know what was important in life, she refused to see

me. Can't say I blame her.

Arlene'll be seventeen now, a young woman all set to

head to college next fall. She's probably—

Probably a lot like the young girl you just left stoned on

her~back with Blue J. You're a real fuckin1 hero, Mike.

Fdther-of~the-year candidate, once again.

"Shut up!w I screamed out loud, causing several nearby

pedestrians to take a wide path around me.

One thing crazy people in the city never had was a

lack of elbow room. Was I crazy, though?

Truly crazy?

I dropped to my knees on the sidewalk, sobbing un

controllably, on one hand ignoring the question, but

then again, perhaps answering it all in the same mo

tion. Who knows? Who cares?

I was so sick of living like this.

I just wanted to end the suffering. Mine, Arlene's . . .

everybody's. From my knees I eyed up the traffic roar

ing by on the street beside me. It would be so easy to

just get up and stumble out in front of—

Stop, I scolded myself. You know thafs not the way it

should go down.

True.

I had a better plan.

For months I've been thinking about it, setting

things up, ironing out the kinks. Now all it took was

having the balls to go through with it. I could do it,

though. No worries there. It had nothing to do with me

anyway. It was all for Arlene. I'd destroyed any chance

of a life we might have had together, but if I could pull

my shit together one last time, I could maybe give her a

start on the life she deserved. The life I'd selfishly sto

len away.

Do it then. No more bullshit. For once in your pitiful life

do the right thing.

Climbing to my feet, tears dried up and long gone, I

stood still, eyes closed, thinking about Arlene while

I swayed to the