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