Across the thin white line... Chapter 3

When Jane was seven years old she came to an important realization about the nature of people. There are particular things in this world about people that you cannot change no matter how much you say or do to the contrary. If they smoke - you can nag them and harass them and even bribe them, but they can and will only quit smoking when they are ready to do so and not a moment before. If they are rude - they will not stop simply because you ask them to.

In Jane's case, her sister Ruth hated her. She did not know why, but even at the tender of seven Jane knew that no matter how nice she was to her older sister, no matter how many times Jane offered to do her sister's chores, offered her the candy she bought every week with her hard earned allowance or even how many times Jane lied to her parents and took the blame for some misdeed that Ruth did - no matter what she did - her sister Ruth would always hate her and not a day went by that Ruth did not find a way to show or similarly inform her of this fact.

Later in life when Jane and her brother Franklin were talking about Ruth (who Franklin and her Father always referred to as Ruthie no matter how much she protested) over dinner at a crusty diner on the east side of the city - Franklin would tell Jane that Ruthie hated her because she came along at the wrong time and for no other reason at all. If she had been a boy Ruthie would have loved her, if she was born a few years later she also would have loved her - it was all about timing.

When Jane pressed Franklin for details on what he meant - Franklin told Jane about the Christmas concert of 1969 that her parents had missed because of Jane's untimely and premature birth. Jane arrived in this world four and one-half months earlier than expected and both her Mother and Father wound up attending the birth rather then attending Ruthie's performance as Mary at the school Christmas pageant.

Even though her parents lavished their eldest daughter with more gifts than she had ever before received (including the receiving the cherished and coveted Mrs. Beasley doll that would become Ruthie's constant companion during the next few pivotal years of her life) her parents were unable to ever make amends to Ruthie for missing this concert. Since Ruthie could not hold a grudge against her parents who had in fact made sure they got her everything she possibly could ever want that particular Christmas morning - Ruthie decided there and then that she would forever hate her little concert ruining sibling...

Now Jane and Ruth had three brothers. Their names were Jason, Maurice and Franklin and they adored both their sisters equally. ..

On Halloween night in 1974 all five children were making last minute preparations on their costumes and Maurice was having a particularly difficult time with the wings from his Hawkman costume. The children had gotten together in the waning days of summer. Before school began once more and forced them into their separate yet intertwined lives. They decided that they would and should go out together as a unified force this year for Halloween.

It was Jason, the supplier of all comic book related material in the house that suggested they go out as the Justice League. They all agreed and even Ruth agreed as long as she got to be Wonder Woman. Jane pouted for a few minutes until Franklin whispered to her that she was so lucky to be able to go out as Black Canary - who Jane knew was both Franklin and Maurice's favorite girl-type hero.

That decided, they all had two months to come up with costumes. They all agreed to make the costumes themselves and under no circumstances would they ask Mother or Father for help.

Setting up a stack of weather-worn and well-thumbed comics between them, the children started to choose their characters. Franklin chose Green Arrow, Jason chose the Flash, Maurice the high flying Hawkman, Ruth chose Wonder Woman. Franklin's best friend Kevin chose Batman. Maurice's buddy Keith took the Elongated Man and for some reason no one chose Superman or Batman.

Jason had no real friends at that point in his life and Ruth and Jane did not know that many girls who liked superheroes as much as we did. In fact this would be the last year that Ruth would even entertain the idea that she and her siblings were friends. The following year she would discover a new group of friends at school and they would introduce her to the wonders of pre-teen life. Movie magazines filled with hunky boy stars and plenty of gossip, make-up parties and afternoons spent styling and colouring their hair into fantastic and unbelievable shapes and positions and of course countless hours talking about what was to become their favorite subject - boys.


This year though, the five children had dressed in their collective Justice League costumes and left their house to go Trick or Treating at 6:10 pm. Their Father had to work late at the High School that night and their Mother who had been complaining of a migraine most of the afternoon had decided that the children were old enough to dress themselves and go out together as a group.

This had been their plan since the summer, but the five of them were more than happy to let their often frazzled Mother think this was her own idea and that for once her children were actually following her suggestions and respecting her word. Their Mother threw together some leftover chicken and salad and put in on the table in the kitchen and asked the children to make sure they had at least something to eat before they went out and to make sure that Franklin, who was the oldest, checked any and all candy before they ate anything out of their bags. She warned them about venturing too far out of their own neighbourhood, told them to stick together and not to talk to strangers.

This struck all of them as amusing as on Halloween night everyone was strange.

They were extremely proud of their costumes and they looked very impressive in their group. The only problem encountered was that Maurice had made his wings for his Hawkman costume much too big for his little body and as a result he kept smacking anyone who walked too near. No one really seemed to mind but Ruth who kept having her tiara knocked of by errand aerial attacks. By the time they hit the boundaries of their own stomping ground which was the park at 28th Street and Maple they had filled up their pillowcases to the three quarter full mark and Wonder Woman had retrieved her tiara a total of seven times over the night. Needless to say, she was not feeling too wonderful and she repeatedly warned Hawkman that the next time it happened she would tear his wings off and shove the where the sun refused to shine.

This sent Jane into a terrible case of the giggles and Ruth became even angrier although Jane insisted she was laughing at Maurice and not at Ruth. At this point the Justice League became involved in its first Catwoman unrelated feline-inspired super-fight when Wonder Woman decided Black Canary was getting to big for her britches, or rather her trademark fishnet stockings. When they reached the park, Wonder Woman threw her pillowcase to the ground, candy spilling out all over the wet grass and tackled Black Canary from behind. Jane's bag of treats went flying and so did both girls... right into a pile of leaves that had also contained an entire season's worth of discarded dog droppings. Since it had been raining the last few days the pile was very wet and both girls were instantly covered in wet leaves and attached to the wet leaves was the smelliest substance to ever befoul a superhero. In other words they became covered head to toe in wet and smelly dog shit. It was Franklin who, after letting them roll around in the pile for a few seconds, noticed the extremely ripe smell coming from the pile and declared that they both smelled.. well that they both smelled like shit.

Ruth stood up and screamed at Jane. Calling her every single name she could possible think of while kicking her rolled up sister repeatedly in the stomach, the side and a few times in the head. Maurice and Jason pulled her away and Ruth threw her hands up in disgust accusing them of protecting her like they always did. She reached down grabbed her bag and without stopping to gather what had fallen out, stormed off towards home where she spent the remainder of the night hiding in the bathroom on the top floor. They did not see her again until the next day.

Jane stayed in the leaves for a few seconds longer sobbing and feeling miserable over having destroyed everyone's nice night. As she stood up and the sobbing began to subside, Jane noticed for the first time the ripoe odour coming off her clothing and her sadness began to evolve into a rage, a rage over her ruined costume, a rage over her rotten sister and a rage over every single mean thing Ruth had ever done to her. This was the moment that she came to the conclusion that she would never be able to change the way Ruth felt about her. If Ruth wanted to hate her - then so be it - let the rotten, ill-mannered, evil b-i-t-c-h be that way - her brothers loved her and that would never change. From this moment on she would not shed a tear if a house landed on Ruth - in fact she would buy the owner of the house a box of chocolates to say thank you for ridding the world of one more wicked witch - the wicked witch of the Ruth - Jane thought with an evil smile.

Her brothers Jason and Franklin did their best to scrape the rotten and smelly leaves off of their soggy and sad sister. They did their best to console her without actually touching her when they were startled by a loud popping soind directly above them. The noise started softly at first andf Jason was the first to notice it. By the time he had the words "hey do you guys hear that ?" out of his mouth the noise was so loud that it is very doubtful they heard more than "hey do you g" before being drowned out by the sound. A low rumbly popping sound that could only be described as a bag of microwave popcorn being made in a kettle drum. The sound built in volume and intensity until finally climaxing with a nloud ear-ringing pop which ended with a flash of bluish light and a nude middle-aged man dropping out of the light and landing on top of the three shocked superheroes. Keep in mind that this was also Halloween and the mindset of the children in the dark was not that of an average young person on a normal night. If anything thses children were absolutely terrified by what they were seeing and at least one of the three was suddenly and irrevocably rendered incapable of holding on to their share of the three cans of Pespsi Cola the children had shared while getting into costume. Although it was highly unlikely that anyone would notice one slightly damp costume smelling faintly of urine in the middle of a situation that included a miniature Black Canary covered in wet dog shit and a naked man dropping out of the sky on a dark and incredibly spooky Halloween night.

To make matters worse, a group of drunk and rowdy adult men were entering the park on the other side. They took immediate notice of the naked man who appeared to be harrassing a group of three children still dressed in their halloween costumes.

In an alternate reality that existed before the arrival of the naked man - this group of men came across three children in costume and began to harrass them until the situation escalated into something that was both very violent and very tragic.

Across the thin white line... Chapter 2

It comes rushing in like fire in a dry season. The first thing he notices is the noise. A low rumble starting off in the distance. It grows and it grows quickly. Just like a hungry fire - ready to consume everything around it as quickly and hungrily as it possibly can.

Lennie covers his ears with his hands and then then with forearms, pressing them as hard as he is able to against the rushing sound of the drug roaring through his bloodstream. The sound becomes unbearable, so much so then he had ever been used to before - In the past Lennie had done a fifth of the amount he had just done and he has begun to flail and convulse. The 'funky chicken' his mates had called it.

Lennie had vowed this would never happen to him again.

This time was even worse.

He had not had a chance to properly stop the bleeding on his arm and what he did not know had saved his life. The excess poison and magic that might have killed him had he forces it to stay inside his body was now bleeding away and dissipating into the air of the room around him. It that it was not a mainline he had hit with his narcotic magic mixture, but an artery. Had he hit a regular vein it would have killed him and that would have been that. The Devil had not told him this and it was pure blind luck that he was able to inject into his artery and not a vein. Luck favours the stupid, the lovers and of course children. Lennie was not a child anymore but he was in love and he was stupid to try such a dangerous thing. A trick the most seasoned of magicians and charlatans and witches of any order or class would shy away from as stupid and unnecessarily dangerous. In fact no one had ever survived the ordeal - although it was unlikely Lennie would have listened to warnings even if he had received them. He was just that type of person.

Lennie's hands moved across his face in an attempt to keep his now imploding brain from leaking out onto his face and the room spun and swam and roared around him and he began to convulse and twitch. He saw his hands were coated with his own blood - it gushed out of his nose, his ears, his eyes and flowed across his face as if he were in a shower, casually rinsing off the day's dirt and grime.

In this case it was not the city's filth he was washing off but time and space and everything that kept him tethered to the here and now. To the the reality that existed beneath his neighbour's music and the faded hardwood floors his feet were touching.

He felt the whole world shake and cast him off - repulsed by his very presence, his very existence. Lennie prayed to fall unconscious - he prayed that he be spared the sight of his own body turning inside out. Lennie watched, distracted by the roar of his own blood and the smell of apples and cinnamon, as his hands began to fade into nothingness. His forearms disappearing and his black t-shirt and jeans deflating as if there were never anything inside them at all. His clothing passed through him and fell crumpled onto the couch and floor. As if they had been casually tossed aside by a sloppy and uncaring undresser. Perhaps in haste to prepare for bed or to meet a lover waiting for him in bed. This would have been so much better than what was actually happening as Lennie was ceasing to exist, his being falling out of sinc with this reality, his consciousness cut loose from his body - his very essence, what theologians have referred to as the soul - Lennie surmised, now acutely aware and bemused by the experience of becoming nothing but thought. The rushing sound carrying him out of his apartment like a loose wind caught between two sheets drying on an old clothesline on a windy and warm November afternoon.
Lennie felt his mind disintegrate and reintegrate - he felt his body die and be reborn on levels and places he never dreamed even existed. He was now gone from this plane of existence and was travelling well beyond human expectation. For a second or maybe even two Lennie unformed and stayed that way - almost lost forever on the winds of birth and rebirth - without an anchor Lennie would be funneled into a new life and be reborn into a new life into a world far beyond his own. His pain and suffering and love and sacrifice would have all been in vain because he was unable to concentrate on the one reason he was doing this in the first place.

At the last possible second Lennie heard the voice of fate calling out to him. It was Jane and his soul twisted and turned and spiraled towards the sound of her voice. Jane wanting Lennie to save her - not wanting her love for Lennie to become as meaningless as air.

Lennie's mind seizes this thought and driven by the sounds of the roaring around him begins to migrate through the storm of unbeing and lost moments - as this is where - Lennie discovers as his consciousness soars past them - this is where they all end up.

Breaching time and space and a wafer thin dimensional wall, Lennie arrives where he has intended on going. He has gone back to yesterday. He does not yet realize that it is not his yesterday that he has arrived in.

He arrives naked and skids across a hard paved surface, producing a painful bit of road rash along the left side of his body. He rolls to a stop, breathing heavy, savouring his first breath of air in this new world. He acknowledges the pain he feels in his heart and along the strip of raw flesh that landing in this dark and dismal alley has produced and then he starts to cry.

He crys tears of hope.

Across the thin white line... Chapter 1

It began like this...

The music came on upstairs with a sudden rumble of bass, vibrating though the walls of the small room beneath it. Lennie, the man who lived in the room, rolled his eyes, licked the tip of his fingers, chose a spoon from the three on the table in front of him and began to crush the assortment of narcotics he had spent the better part of this dismal and rainy Tuesday morning acquiring. First he poured the compacted rocks of the cocaine onto the folded face of the British Queen and then he placed the image of the first Canadian Prime Minister on top of it. The cocaine was quickly reduced to a fine powder.

Four grams of the off-white powder made quite a nice little pile - like a miniature snow hill, all Lennie needed to do was imagine small figures on toboggans and the image would be perfect. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and sighed. This was not the time for frivolity and fun imaginations and he was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. He needed to hurry if he going to save her. He didn't know how he knew this, but he did know it was true as certainly as he knew the sun would rise the next morning.

He didn't have much time left to do this and he had wasted a lot of time finding a dealer who sold the dilaudid he was told he needed in the quantiy he needed. In comparison the cocaine was as easy as going down to the local variety store and buying three bags of 2% milk. The special powder he needed more than anything else had taken the most time - but curiously he had predicted he would need several hours to get it and sure enough that was erxactly what it took. He was glad he had left that task for last though. As for the Dilaudid, he had needed to go to several dealers he knew personally until he found someone who knew someone who might have what he needed.

It was Ricky the Smile who eventually told Lennie about Peter. Normally dilaudid was fairly easy to find and usually it was only ten dollars a pill - Peter was asking fifteen and you had to agree to buy a minimum of three before he'd even let you in the door. To make matters worse Lennie had to go through a middle man which cut into both his time and his pocketbook. The money meant nothing at all, but the timetable he had found himself forced to follow was critical.

As it was, if it wasn't for the time constraints Lennie would have told the Smile to tell Peter to shove the overpriced dillies up Peter's little Guatemalan ass...

Unfortunately Lennie simply could not risk it.

Instead, he made a mental note that if he made it back and if he managed to save Jane...
After they spent enough time in bed wrapped in each others arms, hopefully making love as many times as they possibly physically could...
After they had sucked on each others toes and nipples and shoulderblades and he got down on his knees and thanked every diety he could possibly thank for not allowing anything bad to happen to her..

After these things happened, he would get up, untangle himself from her arms and legs and other parts, he would get dressed, go out and take the time to instruct both the Smile and Peter in the lost art of time management - Lennie hoped that they would do poorly in recieving said instruction and that he would need to use both his heavy boots and his fists as teaching aids...

In reality he was angry at himself and at the man known as Johnny the Devil but since Johnny the Devil was too far up the totem pole to touch in any way -and since Lennie was not at all masachistic in any way, Lennoie knew that he would have to take his anger out on those people he could touch.

This would, however, need to wait until much later as few things Lennie imagined ever unfolded as he had originally intended them too. He really hoped that this particular case would be an exception to the rule.

He would also need to tell the man who would eventually agree to sell him the 4 pills he needed, that he did not enjoy being overcharged and the notion of a minimum purchase was a bit of a joykill for a drug dealer who sold an incredibly addictive narcotic. Second only to heroin in the hierarchy of drug culture.

Lennie doubted that the Smile would say anything at all to Peter about the cost of doing business considering the twenty dollar surcharge Ricky the Smile had the tendency of adding on to any favour he did. Although it did explain the incredibly ugly man's need to smile so fucking much...

When Peter opened the door to Lennie, he immediately began to smirk - the kind of smirk Lennie recognized immediately. He had seen it on many dealer before - it was mainly reserved for dealers who smugly peddled junk or some other kind of opiate. It was a look that said "come in, sit down, shut up, laugh at my jokes, nod at my stories and when i get tired of you or if something better comes along i well eventually get off my skinny little spic ass and get you what you need... but if you piss me off in any way at all, i will cut you off where you stand - no matter how sick you are, no matter how sick your girlfriend is or how iunsanely bad you may or may not need or may or may not insanely want this drug..." Peter knew, from his phone call from the Smile, that Lennie both needed and wanted the pills and that he had, although with some hesitation agreed to the three pill minimum. It took half an hour and much small talk about local politics (a topic that Lennie had no interest in whatsoever) and much sweating on Lennie's part to act enough like a hurting junkie for Peter to eventually get up, walk over to his room-length ceiling to floor bookshelf and remove a book from the shelf...

Had Lennie seen the title of the book Peter removed from the shelf, he may have laughed at the irony of keeping a stash of narcotics in a hollowed out copy of Milton's Paradise Lost. In fact he might have derived such an appreciation of the irony that he may have decided that the activity he was currently engaged in was in fact absolutely the most dangerous thing he had ever done and indubitably insane and that despite the grief he would later feel, he may in fact recover from it over time.

In truth though, Lennie would have never recovered and his life would have become a tragic shell until his untimely and incredibly lonely death sometime in the near future....

On the other hand, since there was not a single book in Lennie's small room it also may be safe to assume that Lennie is not much of a reader and the irony may have been lost on him entirely.

Once Lennie added the four crushed triangular-shaped dilaudid to the mix, it became a slightly taller hill of chemically induced insanity. People have killed and have been killed for less than what was now heading into Lennie's tablespoon.

Although if Lennie's plan worked out the way he had intended - no one would have to die over this bit of drugs - quite the opposite in fact as Lennie intended to do his best to save at least one life with it. Not with it directly but it was his feverish hope that he would be able to save a life if this worked out like he thought it would or rather how he was told it would.

Lennie removed a small folded paper packet from his left breast pocket and opened the flap, pouring the yellow powdered contents of the packet onto the top of the cocaine/dilaudid hill - giving it a crested feeling that both amused and terrified Lennie.

Next he took his syringe and filled it with 70 ml of water from the Flintstone juice glass that sat next to the ashtray on the coffee table that made up the working area in front of him. Using a business card he had fished from his back pocket Lennie scooped the entire pile onto the teaspoon and put the spoon back onto the table. He then squirted the water into the spoon and started to stir the contents with the flat side of the syringe. The powder dissolved easily and soon the entire mix was gone - now replaced with a near clear mixture of incredible potency. Lennie shuddered and tossed a cotton filter into the spoon and began to draw the liquid into the body of the needle.

At 70 ml the liquid was gone and the syringe was full, leaving only a slight oily residue in its wake. Lennie flicked the side of the syringe twice with his middle nail and a few bubbles came loose and floated to the top. Lennie carefully pushed the plunger and released the little bit of air trapped at the top of the syringe and slowly put the needle down on the place mat. His hands shaking so badly now that he knew he would need to wait a few minutes before he did anything let alone hit. He didn't want to wait but he really didn't see any other alternative at this late point in the game...

With one deft movement indicating years of experience Lennie flicked open his belt and with a sudden yank the belt came flying violently out of its restraining loops and made a crack in the open air next to him. Tieing off with a belt always pained Lennie and in his final days as a junkie he had not had much luck tying off with anything at all. He remembered that most, if not all, of his veins were shot to hell. Collapsed entirely, clogged with scar tissue or burnt beyond any reasonable usage.

Lennie did, however, feel his chances were better with a thick belt than with anything else and he began to tighten the belt around his upper forearm.

As he did this, Lennie said a silent prayer for his ill-advised chances and that somehow he could 1. find a suitable vein to shoot this crap into and 2. that this would not kill him and in turn kill Jane.

As Lennie waited for a vein to stand up for delivery his mind went back to his earlier meeting with Johnny the Devil from down at the Bastion Beer Emporium . An evil and strange person if there ever was one. Johnny had supplied the powder that, when combined with the lethal overdose levels of dilly and blow, would send him off and away to a place where he was told that he could do something to save her. He could not think about that now. All he could do was steel himself for this next bit and then if it did indeed work as promised he would figure out what to do next and how to do it then

Lennie knew that he should not trust the devil, but in his eyes it was better to trust a devil you knew than one you did not. Johnny the Devil was someone Lennie had known for nearly twenty years and was a steady fixture in the neighbourhood that Lennie grew up in and as he later learned also a steady fixture in the city's seedy underworld of illegal drugs, illicit gambling and immoral prostitution. The cold hard facts were that if you were involved in any of these three categories: illegal, illicit or immoral than Johnny the Devil likely owned a part of you. He had been a steady fixture at the Bastion Bar and Grill since Lennie was a boy and had acquired his nickname from his early days as a loan shark. This was the story Lennie had heard many times circulating through the neighbourhood, but Lennie had always secretly believed it was because of the shiny-red suit jacket that Johnny always wore. It sparkled in the light and made Johnny appear magical to an eight year old boy. When Johnny walked into a room the lights would bounce off the sequined red jacket and a small light show would occur on the walls, floors and ceiling all around Johnny.

When you mixed the special effects that his jacket provided with his long nose and ferret-like facial features. Not to mention the incredibly oily slicked shiny black hair - you could see instantly that he was really a devil or he was waiting for one. Many had heard it said that Johnny was a living stereotype waiting for someone to breathe life into him. The way Lennie saw it - Johnny was likely the guy who inspired the stereotype in the first place.

Taking a seat directly in front of Johnny's table at the Bastion, Lennie invented a new and equally strange tale about why he needed the powder and why Jane, who was usually always attached protectively to his hip was not there.

Johnny smiled and said nothing.

A woman sitting next to him began to mock Lennie in a strange lilt. "He needs it Johnny" she whined, " I bet Jane needs it more" and then she laughed like a hyena until Johnny the Devil stopped smiling and put his hand up in the air to indicate he wanted her to shut the fuck up.

Johnny the Devil put down his drink on the table and looked at Lennie for a long time before he finally spoke. Lennie could feel a sheet of fine sweat forming on his back, his chest and his forehead. he didn't want to stop and wipe it away and if anything, it lent both credence and credibility to his story about Jane. Johnny looked at Lennie for a few seconds more and asked Lennie if he knew what the powder was used for. Lennie nodded without speaking and the snaky hyena women leaned over to Johnny and whispered something in his ear. Johnny looked at her as if she had bit him and he fixed the hyena lady, who Lennie noticed had enormous front teeth, with such a look that Lennie would swear it made the ill mannered woman wilt in her seat. She fumbled with her purse, excused herself in a quivering voice and scurried off to another part of the restaurant. Lennie did not see where she went but no one said anything for a few seconds after she left.

Johnny the Devil looked at Lennie for a few more minutes and finally picked up his drink and took a long draw on it. The ice cubes in the glass clinked and the sound seemed to reverberate throughout the restaurant. Lennie had been quite positive there had been several people sitting with the Devil when he had originally sat down but they were not there now. He had not seen them get up or leave.

For a second Lennie thought he might have to ask again, perhaps even add some additional details to his story, but as soon as he began to open his mouth Johnny began to speak. Lennie shut his mouth quickly and hoped the Devil didn't notice his impatience.

"You were always nice guy Lennie. a nice kid and i'd wager you are even a nice boyfriend", Johnny began to say, " You know, I knew your father, I knew your mother." Except when Johnny said these words they came out as mudder and fadder instead of the more traditional words. "Ey, I even knew your sistah" and he laughed to himself.
Two large men that Lennie had not noticed before stepped out of the darkness behind the table that Johnny was sitting in and laughed heartily at the not-so-subtle joke. Even Lennie smiled at the joke, hoping to smooth the tense situation over a bit . Lennie could feel himself begin to relax a bit. Maybe, he began to think, this won't be so bad...

Then the situation suddenly and without warning exploded in Lennie's face.

"Then you walk in here, and you lie to me to my face", Johnny the Devil shouts and the smile that had seemed contagious only a second before suddenly disappears from each and every face including Lennie's. The two men that Lennie had only noticed seconds before were now on either side of him.

The Devil continued "You come to me for something you know you can't get anywhere, anywhere else!!" the last two words come out more as a scream then anything else, Johnny's face has turned bright red with anger. The two men have each taken possession of one of Lennie's arms and are slowly pulling them back behind the chair. Lennie is too scared to offer up any resistance. "Do you think I don't know why you really want this shit, do you think i don't know how you know this shit even exists!".

"Fuck!", he screams, "my boys don't even know i have this shit and here you come in here to my place and you lie to me and you think I is going to just hand it over without finding out the real reason you want it!". Lennie's arms feel like they are going to snap beneath the pressure being placed on them by the two men. Tears and snot and sweat cover his face and run into his eyes and into his mouth as he tries to speak. Lennie blinks away what he can and suddenly the Devil is in front of him. He moved so swiftly that Lennie did not even see him move. Johnny the Devil grabs Lennie's face and for a second the pressure in so intense that Lennie feels his eyes begin to bulge in their sockets. His jaw cracks in a way that seems to excite the two gorillas on either side of Lennie. The pressure increases on Lennie's arms and they make similar cracking sounds.

A symphony Lennie thinks in crazed delirium, a symphony of pain, and before he can finish the thought - Johnny the Devil's hand finds its way across Lennie's face. It sounds like a rifle - a sudden crack the hand makes as it strikes Lennie's face and it echos repeatedly in Lennie's head. Blood gushes from Lennie's nose and mouth and suddenly it is over. Darkness washes over Lennie and he is gone.

In the darkness Lennie sees Jane's face reflected in the window of the diner where he first told her that he loved her. It is a good and incredibly sad thought.

Lennie opens his eyes and one of them refuses to do what it is being told. Through one eye, Lennie looks around the room. He is still seated in the same chair. The two goomba's are back in their position - standing behind Johnny the Devil, who has returned to his original coloring. He is sipping his drink and clinking the ice cubes together. He is also watching Lennie very carefully.

Lennie sits up a little straighter and wipes his nose on his sleeve. He uses the cuff to carefully wipe out the gunk out of the bad eye and sees that it is dried blood from his nose or from some other cut he doesn't know about - he has no idea how it dried onto his eye. Also he does not really care. Lennie snuffles a few times and decides to try and speak.

Lennie starts speaking slowly, he tells Johnny he is sorry for lying, He tells Johnny why he lied, he tells Johnny the truth about where he thinks Jane is and why he really needs the powder. Johnny the Devil nods at all the appropriate spots in the story and listens to Lennie without saying a word.

Sometime during the telling of the tale - the two large goombas have disappeared back into the shadows that they originally appeared from. Lennie does not even notice. By the time Lennie finishes the story he is crying and blubbering a little bit - he has not begged Johnny for the powder as of yet, but he is close to doing this.

He has never begged another living soul for anything in his entire life but today he is prepared to throw his thirty-two year record into the garbage for an opportunity to get his hands on this powder. He needs it more than he ever needed junk, more than he ever needed anything, he would hazard a guess that at this particular moment in his life he needs it more than he needs air to breathe.

Lennie could hear a group of people laugh. To Lennie it seems that they are surrounded by laughter and the only people not laughing are Lennie and Johnny the Devil. Once again, Johnny looks at Lennie for a long time before speaking. "I knew..." he begins quietly, "the truth before you told me. What upset me, young man, was the lack of respect you displayed in lying to me. If you had not told me the truth you would not be sitting there right now, I would have had my boys take you into the kitchen and feed you into the meat grinder", Johnny the Devil licks his lips, smiles an evil smile and adds " and then I would have been able to save a few dollars on hamburger this month".

Johnny the Devil stands up and walks over to Lennie. Lennie looks at his own feet , ashamed to meet the Devil's eyes. Knowing he has done the man an injustice. On the street where Lennie grew up, such offences were unforgivable. Truth and lies to the right and wrong people, pride, honour and loyalty - these were the qualities that made or unmade a man.

A small white paper packet lands in Lennie's lap and the Devil continues to walk. He walks past Lennie as Lennie looks in disbelief at the packet lying in his lap.

"You owe me boy, you owe me large and you know that and I know that... One day I am going to ask you to pay me back with a favour in return and you had better fucking be ready to cover the debt..." Lennie nodded dumbly as the Devil continued, " and if you are not ready or if you refuse or if you do anything stupid like lie or run or tell anyone or anything that even remotely feels wrong to me then I will not only feed you into my meat grinder, but I will happily feed your family, your grandparents and every-fucking one you fucking know into it. I will feed you last so you get to watch..."

Lennie continued to nod, not knowing what to say. "Sheeet... I'll be able to offer 1/2 price hamburger for the better part of a year, so you fucking better fucking believe me when I fucking tell you - be ready to pay me back when I fucking ask. Do you fucking understand me Lennie".

"I understand Johnny, I do", Lennie answers, but the devil had already left the room, leaving Lennie alone, bleeding from his nose, his lip and his ear, but he has what he came for.

"Fucking hell..." Lennie mutters to himself and gets up out of the chair, the packet clutched in his right hand and he leaves the Bastion the way he came in.

Looking down at his arm Lennie sees that a vein has made its way to the top. Its a mainline too which will make the whole thing go a bit faster.

Lennie picks up the syringe and pushes the needle into the slightly bulging vein to the right of the groove indicating the bend of his arm. He flags it and a bright red stream of blood rushes into the syringe. He Closes his eys and with a silent prayer and the image of Jane smiling at him in his mind Lennie presses the syringe. The entire contents rushing into his bloodstream over the course of a second. He releases the belt - it falls silently to the floor and he pulls the needle out of his arm.

Now it really begins...