Thin white line Chapter 8

Lennie opened his eyes and saw that the world was still in place around him. In his fevered dreamstate he was sure that he would wake to oblivion or worse...

He had no such luck though as he mentally make note of the ills that he felt that cold Febraury morning. First off he had mo memory of the night before - he did not know how he got to bed nor what he was up toin the hours that preceeded his arrival in bed. Truth be told Lennie remembered nothing after arriving at the Rainbow movie house yesterday afternoon, where he had snuck into theatre seven to watch Life is Beautiful. It may have been a terrible movie or it may have been fantastic but Lennie would never know. He was lucky he could even remember his name right now much less what he did yesterday or how he managed to get home and safely tucked into his own little bed. God looks after fools and little children - aaaand possibly drunkards and even more probably junkies which according to Stanley over at the Shop and Save were the 20th century's version of the classic drunk.

This was not the longest blackout Lennie could remember but it certainly was not without some questions. He could not remember doing any quantity of drugs last night.

No more than the usual, anyways..

He did feel tremendously dopesick, and as if to punctuate the thought: a wave of nausea flew across Lennie in sicken waves, each one stonger bthan the last until Lennie was forced to place his head between his knees in a type of surrender. The sickness, however did not acknowledge the symbol of surrender right away and it took a few more waves for the message to make it to the powers that were to stop the attack and start the laboreous process of taking prisoners.

"Whoa... ahhhhhhh... mmmmhh..." He groaned and moaned as he slowly and painfully managed to achieve a sitting position on the bed, clutching his thin white sheet around him tighter than the shroud of Turin was wrapped on Jesus Christ himself. Lennie was already shivering and sweating, the sickness well on him now, like some kind of evil parasite living inside him that eats both his energy and his soul: leaving only pain, lethargy and an unimaginable hunger for something to make the feelings go away and simply become- well for lack of better words this early in the day- simply operational. Another wave of nauseafloated across him, this time activating a bass drum beat that ran simutaneously through huis liver, up his spine and into his brain. It felt like "innagaddadeveda"and Lennie truly and earnestly hoped that it was not the super-long extended mix. In truth he prayed it would end swiftly before the idea of death by Iron Butterfly became too appealing.

Looking down at the coffee table beside the "couch that liked to pretend it is a bed" Lennie took note of several things at once - the most important item however temporarily blinded him to everything else as he read the printed index card sitting next to what appeared to be a ready-made hype. The card read "2 - Dilaudid 8 for you - from me - feel better - watch the tape - Lennie".

Lennie blinked hard once, than he blinked hard once again.
He re-examined the index card.
"Yes", it was his writing.
"Yes", there was a spoon with a filter in it on the table and what appeared to be a light whitish wash in the spoon.
Yes there was a cigarette with a small piece of filter missing - torn off the previous night Lennie supposed. Next to the smoke was a lighter. He picked up the smoke, lit it with a great long inhale and proceeded to pick up the hype.

Tieing off was easy and in seconds Lennie found a vien and had the needle in and flagged. With one quick shift of his thumb he shot the contents of the hype into his bloodstream and in the same movement slid the needle out of the vein and loosened the tie around his forearm.

The tie fell to the ground in front of him. Blue rubber contrasting with the soft eggshell white of the long sheet that was draped around his waist and legs. A single drop of blood had dripped onto the white sheet beside the tie and for a split second the three colours touched and merged into one as a great warmth swept across Lennie - beginning at his toes and building with a Tsunami-like intensity that simply swept aside any feeling of illness, nausea or pain that might have existed in its path...

Thin white line Chapter 7

In less time than it takes Jane to look around the room ~ she invaritably decides that the current situation is already more than she thought that she could handle. It seemed so easy and straightforward when she and Lennie first discussed it.

Yes, when they went over the plan for Jane to travel back into the mind of her younger counterpart and do what needed to be done the conceptas exciliarating and novel and romantic and terribly exciting. Yes they were building off the adrenalized moment that occured as they discovered their first shared memory and therefore their first chance at actually travelling back to specific point in their joint pasts where she would be able to do something for the man she loved.

According to Lennie it was a beautiful little girl who had pulled him - semi-conscious from his Uncle's burning fifth floor bachelor apartment when he was a little boy.

The problems that Jane now saw in the reality of the moment were quickly disolving any of the previous excitement and romance. First off she is still incredibly high: so much so that her ears are still ringing and she is very, very aware of the tracers that the flickering lights from the fire are making within her peripheral vision. The body she now finds herself inhabiting is very familiar but much, much smaller and weaker than she remembered herself being. She looks at her hands in disbelief and sees the hands of a four4 year old girl. Jane turbns them over and flexes them open and shut. They look even smaller in the strange smoky light. The lights are flickering and the smoke from the fire in the adjoining kitchen is already building to an uncomfortable level.

"Cough! Ackrrr! Cough!" she gasps though her small, smoke filled lungs and she rubs her eyes with the curve of her hands, trying to get her vision to clear up a bit more. Its still a bit fuzzy, her guess is, from hthe jump across time into the mind of her past self.

She can still taste the cocaine and resulting blood from the incredibly potent hit that precipitated the trip. Her ears are still ringing but the tracers are begining to fade now and if Lennie were here and if things were not as hopeless or intense or even as fiery as they seemed, she might even joke she could hear a fly fart on the other side of the world with super hearing like this.

Lennie is not here though and Jane knows that if she does not find a way out of this burning apartment and into that of Lennie's Uncle across the hall - then this trip into the past will be a total waste of time. She forces herself to take a step and sees that all she is wearing is a slight flannel nitegown and a cute pair of bunny-ear slippers she vaguely remembered getting for christmas one year when she was very very young.

"I guess I know how young", Jane mutters to herself as she moves slowly but surely to the apartment door that leads out to the main hallway. She needs to get out of this apartment, get into the unit across the hall, pull Lennie out of his bed and back into the hall so that some fleeing neighbour-lady will see Lennie's small sleeping form curled up on the tattered carpeting, pick him up and carry him outside to safety. This is based on Lennie's vague but strangely familiar childhood memory

Across the thin white line Chapter 4

I looked at the windowed door, shadowed and slightly sheltered from the cool September night and turned my head to smile at Jane. All I was looking for was an acknowledgment that she was ready to go and she way more than simply ready. She was almost vibrating with a combination of nervous energy, adrenaline and expectation. Jane had never looked to beautiful and my mind drifted for a brief moment back to the previous night where we had enjoyed an aventure of a different type.

We had shared a few grams of blow and we had each done the other, both of us finding the right vein, both flagging successfully and neither of us missing the shot. It had been wonderful - after the initial rush of the smash began to fade but before the warm glow and accuteness of sense faded I had stripped Jane down and began to paint an elaborate design on her. I worked my brush and the painted tips of my fingers onto her upper torso, cupping her breast and teasing her peirced nipple each and every chance I got. I drew an increasingly complex design on her naked and willing skin - moving over her shoulderblade, along her arm and around her rib cage and finally encompassing her right breast. Flames and a Japanese-style Tsunami washed across her breasts. She watched me with glowing satisfaction and interest, smiling the same smile sher had on now. I could feel her eyes on me while I worked ~ no that is not the word I want ~ while I played feels better and fae more accurate. She was do happy with the design and when we were done making art we fell onto each other like ravenous wolves, starving for each other, starved for touch, taste and embodying a lust for each other that took us deep into the other... literally and figuratively...
She was grinning at me in a mischeveous, slightly sexy manner that sent a charge through me. A look that said she was with me every step of the way and if I wanted her half as much as she wanted me then we certainly had something going between us. I did want her. More than I'd ever wanted anyone. I leaned in to her and she met me half way - kissing quick but somehow savourig the taste. The taste of her, the taste of the moment, of everything this particular moment entailed.

I leaned back from the moment, and with one quick movement the brick I had been holding in my right hand was though the window. My hand through the jagged hole and unlocking the deadbolt that had been holding the door safely shut from intruders. Intruders just like us.

"Lets go" I whispered and looked over my shoulder to make sure the group of drunken men standing down the street smoking in front of the bar had not heard our noise. They had not and with a final nod we went into the darkened storefront.

We went into the dark store and I immediately went to work and so did Jane as she started feeling her way towards the back of the store to secure our getaway route.

I quickly attacked the3 52" flatscreen in the display window, unplugging cords and cables and generally freeing it from its digital bonds. This large flat monstosity was our sole reason for being in this store at this late hour. I yanked the final cord free and picked up the screen. It was amazingly light for its size and I was uncertain if this was because of the adrenaline flowing through me or if this was because of amazing Japanese technological savvy.

I carried the screen to the back of the store. I could see that Jane was having trouble with the lock on the back door so I put the screen down beside her as she shifted to the left in order to allow me unencumbered access to the door. I threw my weight into shifting the locking mechanism to the left and as it clicked into the unlocked position I felt my right foot slip and unexpectedly start to fall downwards. In the dark I did not realize we were starding next to a stairwell and as I began to tumble down I reached up in an insane effort to find a handhold. I did not and I fell , tumbling into darkness, watching the slightly lit and distraught Jane ~ hands out ~ calling my name. In a split second all light was gone and I lay crumpled at what could only be the bottom of a small enclosed stairway.