Chapter 13

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April 19th, 2:30 p.m. The Upper West Side, New York City

This chapter is dedicated to follower and author Lucas Carlson, whose posted novel, Term Sheet,  is an excellent action thriller.

Kate knew Vanessa would have Gunther come after her once they discovered the vials were missing. Creeping guilt led to buyer's remorse before she remembered their last encounter. Her resolve firmed.

After ruminating in her unkempt apartment for four hours, watching another block of Castle episodes, Kate decided to solve her little dilemma by hiding the vials. Maybe they deserved a proper, decent burial somewhere. She walked eastward to Central Park, which she knew well, having spent her teen years in the City.

The perfect place dawned on her. The Ramble.

It lay in the Park's southern midsection, bordered by 73rd Street in the South to 79th Street in the north, a heavily forested area with several rock formations that remained untouched since the park was developed in the nineteenth century. A park within a park, The Ramble was a perennial favorite of birdwatchers, but also was known for private, homosexual encounters. Straight couples could join in the fun, too, of course. It was not uncommon to find used condoms lying around on the dirt or in the brush.

Kate knew the precise spot, but she'd left out one minor detail. She had no shovel and she wasn't about to dirty her hands and clothes in the mud. In Manhattan, no one had reason to buy them and the few hardware stores that sold them were sparse. A quick search on her cell phone revealed one on 72nd Street. Hey, who knew?

Gartner's was only two blocks away but she sauntered there. Out of breath, she asked the clerk if he could help her pick out a shovel, which he did. Kate eyed a large one she liked, even though he had tried to sell her a smaller, 'lady-sized' shovel, as he liked to call it.

"No, this one's fine," she snapped at him, as if he had just tried to make a pass at her. "Thank you." Walking to the cashier and realized after the fact how rude she must have sounded.

In the Park, Kate steered clear of the 72nd Street entrance and instead entered at 77th Street, and then walked eastward toward BelvedereCastle. When she crossed south on a bridge overlooking the 79th Street Traverse with the sound of moving traffic below, she found it—a rock adjacent to the fence overlooking the Traverse in the shadow of the castle. After finding the short winding dirt path that led to a rock face in an ensconced clearing, she dropped to her knees and started digging a hole against the base of the rock. When she thought it was deep enough, she placed the case in the hole and covered it over with dirt, patting it down with the shovel.

* * *

Kate was emboldened to give her gym a go, a place she hadn't attended in well over a month. She had taken to jogging while in college and graduate school, before the heroin took hold. As her drug intake skyrocketed, her stamina went south.

She wore long sleeved workout shirts and sweatpants to cover the unseemly black and blue tracks marring her skin. It didn't take but five minutes on the treadmill before her labored breathing made her give up the ghost, the techno pop music pulsating through the room and through her own head in an uncomfortable way. She took a huge swig from her water bottle and limped off.

So much for getting back on that horse.

"Are you okay?" asked an unfamiliar voice. When she looked up, she saw before her a handsome figure in long rust colored hair and blue eyes wearing a tank top and guy shorts, who could have passed for the Son of God as far as she was concerned.

"I saw you huffing and puffing all the way from over there," he said with an endearing smile.

"I'm fine, but thanks for asking," she said.

"Hey, didn't I just see you on the cover of Women's Health?"

"Are you always this obnoxious?" she answered with another question, too winded to react to the lame attempt at a pick up line from a muscle head. On second thought, his physique was worth admiring, at least.

"I'm Eric. I do personal training here."

"You're not from around here, are you?" she said, noting his accent.

"No, I'm not. But thanks for the compliment."

"Oh, that wasn't a compliment," she said with off-putting glibness.

He shrugged. "You know, I could really help you improve your stamina. If you didn't work out in heavy clothing like that, you wouldn't overheat like you just did."

"Thanks for the tip. I'll have to remember that next time."

"And you are?"

"Kate," was all she gave him.

He extended his hand more than halfway, which left little choice for her but to shake it.

"I can schedule you in. We'll work out a payment plan. How about ten sessions?"

"I'm not up for it right now, but maybe some other time, okay...Eric, is it? I really appreciate it, I do. But I'm really okay now." She noticed faint needle scars on his left arm.

"No problem. Whenever you're ready, let me know."

I just want to be happy, for however short a time. Her own words to Vanessa startled her. I don't care what she said. Wanting a man isn't a bad thing. Even not knowing who he was, she couldn't deny that he looked hot.

All her relationships had ended up in the garbage pile. Either guys were put off by her drug use and bi-polar weirdness or her constant banter about chemistry, or her recoil with premature advances. To her, seeking love for drugs was a full time job. I wonder what he takes. Does he deal, too? Should I risk asking? God, I'm such a whore!

Her interest piqued, she decided to hang around a little longer and do some stretching.

As Eric was leaving for the night, she went for it. She ran up from behind. "Hey, I see what you're about!" she said with a frisky lilt. She even thought it uncanny how extraverted she became when it came to drug-seeking activities.

"What?" he asked, barely turning to look at her.

"Oh, you can't fool me. I think you have something I want."

"Okay...well, see you later," he said, sounding as if he thought of her as a stalker to be avoided.

"Quitter!" she said as she blocked his path in front of the glass door leading out to the street.

"Well, damn, you made me forget my pick up line!" he responded.

"I know what you've been into. Why do you think I wear long sleeves?"

His eyes motioned to the exit. "Just walk with me," he said. "That is, if you don't mind if I walk you home."

They took a wordless stroll along Broadway, then turned onto 74th Street nearing her apartment when Eric finally broke the silence. "You know, I may not know what you're talking about, so follow me on this, alright?" he said, looking straight ahead and speaking low. "I take it you want new experiences, right?"

"Yeah and I'm good for it too," she said eagerly.

"You already buy from others?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Then you wouldn't be interested and neither would I."

"What's it to you who I buy from?"

Eric smirked. "Look, I just need to know that you'll be a steady customer."

"I just said I'm good for it.

"So, what makes you so special?"

She gave him a sheepish grin.

"Great, so we're both special," he said. "Tell you what, if you're so interested, let's meet--."

As they approached her apartment's front stoop, a man who'd been lurking around the adjacent building closed in from behind and pushed Eric toward the curb. She screamed as the mugger grabbed for her purse, but struggled to hold onto it. When the mugger let go, she fell to the ground. Eric charged the mugger and punched the other man in the face, knocking him to the pavement. Before Eric could pin him down, the attacker pulled out a switchblade and swung it for Eric's face, grazing Eric's right temple. Eric stepped in and grabbed the mugger's knife-wielding arm, applying pressure on the mugger's wrist and forcing the knife out. Eric shoved the mugger to the ground. As Eric paused to wipe the blood from his face, the mugger sprang up and ran, empty handed, down the street and around the corner, disappearing into the night.

Eric crouched over her, still on the pavement, wincing. "Are you okay?"

Looking up at him, she said, "Oh my God. You're bleeding!"

"I'm fine," he responded, breaths coming slow and steady as the adrenaline tapered off. Blood smeared his fingers.

"No you're not! You need a hospital."

"It'll stop on its own. I can handle it." He paused to think it over, "but I could use some gauze or a band aid or something if you have one."

"In my apartment," she said, directing him up the steps.

Once inside, while Eric lay on her sofa, she rummaged around for some gauze and found a roll under the bathroom sink. "That guy could have killed you. You should have let him take my purse." She tore off a piece, sprayed some Bacitracin on it and covered the wound with it. "Now hold still."

"Bullshit. Ow!" he groaned as she applied the gauze. She had him hold the pad not having any tape to hold it down. "Thanks, Kate. I'm such an idiot."

"Yeah, you sure are, but if it's all just the same, thank you for hitting that jerk."

Eric sighed. "Look, I should go. I've had a long day and I'm worn out. But like I was saying, if you think you'll want more than that junk you're into, let me know, okay?"

"Maybe but I just bought some, so I'm set for a while."

"You prepare your own bundles?" he asked.

She saw him glance over at the table with the burnt spoon, white powder residue and plastic baggie collection. It wasn't like she ever thought to hide her drug paraphernalia before, she didn't get many visitors. Kate thought not to answer. The picture was worth a thousand words.

"All by myself."

"Nice, but like I said, if you think you'll need more product, drop by the gym. I'm there all the time. I guarantee it's better than the junk you're buying now."

"Right. I'll remember that."

Kate saw him to the door and he walked out. It took less than two hours and she was smitten, but she didn't know if it was because of his good looks or access to 'new experiences'. Either way, he was on her mind and she couldn't sleep.

Time to get to work.

She spent the better part of an hour preparing more heroin and placed containers of the liquid in her refrigerator. Save for her steady diet of gummy bears and yogurt, she didn't eat much these days, which explained the absence of any solid food in the apartment. She ended the day by taking yet another hit, another mouth full of gummys and flicking on the flat screen to the all-Castle-all-the-time channel. She leaned forward at the glow of the TV, hypnotized by the light emanating from the screen and then leaned back onto her sofa, falling into another dreamless sleep two and a half episodes later.

Do you accept Kate's decision to bury the vials? Is it clear to you who Eric is? How do you think I could improve their dialogue?

Copyright © 2016 by Alan Field. All Rights Reserved.  

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