Chapter Three

Fearless people,
Careless needle.
Harsh words spoken,
And lives are broken.
Forceful ageing,
Help me I'm fading.
Prayer For The Dying
Seal

Sitting n the driveway Calla looked around at her destination and the bags on the back of the hatchback. The task before her seemed almost Herculean. Digging into her overnight bag she pulled out Andy’s big Happy Kit and huffed a few fingernails of cocaine to get her going. The Valium and pain killers she’d been munching down throughout the day were starting to take their toll and make her tired and thirsty. But! There were still so many things to do!

Putting the Happy Kit away she grabbed the overnight bag and three big bags from Amazing Savings! Unsteadily she half-carried and half-dragged the items through the gate and to the sun porch. First she had to break the glass sun porch door and the kitchen door to get inside. Then it was time to lug three big bags inside and get them down the stairs. Calla didn’t stop to fidget with the items just then she just put them down and went back outside to the rented hatchback. She pulled out the soft fold-out seats she purchased from Amazing Savings! dragged them inside and pushed them down the stairs one at a time. Standing at the top of the steps she realized she’d have to get those out of the way before she got on with her next project. The steps were rickety and the musty smell coming to her brought many unpleasant memories with it. For just a second she contemplated turning around then that thought was gone. Holding her hands out to her sides to touch the banister and wall she made her way down the rickety steps and hopped over the new furniture. Calla pulled them into the room where the bags were waiting and flipping them open, she pushed them against the far wall one next to the other so it made sort of a bed.

The light was almost completely faded now so she dug a candle out of one the bags, lit it and took the new knife from one of the bags. Using the small flame for light she went up one and then two flights of stairs to a small bathroom. Putting the candle down in the toothbrush holder she used the tip of the knife to unscrew the hinges on the mirror door to the medicine cabinet. Yanking it free she put the knife between her teeth and picked up the burning candle with her free hand. In that very precarious state she toddled down two flights of darkened steps back to her destination.

Calla spit the knife onto the bed and very carefully placed the mirror on the floor against the wall, no sense in having it fall she didn’t need seven years bad luck at this point. Sitting on the makeshift bed she started unpacking the bags. First she took a long swig from Jack & Danny and then she put batteries into the little CD player and put the music on, it was too quiet in here. Soon Bruce Springsteen was singing to her and telling her about a place called Thunder Road.

Very nice.

What’s next?

Oh yes.

Carefully unwrapping the candles which she’d bought in pillars, sticks, and some in glass containers she placed the bulk of them in front of and around the mirror. The sticks she melted the bottoms on and then stuck them directly to the cement floor so they wouldn’t topple over, no sense in starting a fire at this point—maybe later. The other candles she put a few feet away from the glass and to the sides. Still more she put by the bed. Calla lit the candles and stared into the mirror. Sitting on the floor she stared harder at her reflection. Not satisfied with the light she shifted the little flames around until they were just right.

OK. Good.

Next?

Incense. Yes. Calla put the ceramic catch dish down by the mirror and dumped some of the charcoal into it, she put the flame to it and the charcoal lived up to its name by springing to life without lighter fluid. Soon she had a happy little flame burning. One that was filling the room up with black smoke and smelled bad.

Not good.

Calla opened the door and crossed to a window on the opposite side the basement, she opened it and went back to the room. There was another window in here and she stood on the little bed to open that one. Now there was a little cross breeze and the smoke was filtering away but the flame was still burning.

Better.

Looking around through the basement window she wondered if there was too much light and if it might attract attention. Calla took off her sweater and hung in the pane to catch any light which might be leaking through. One more trip up the stairs. She picked up the other little dish and made her way to the kitchen and hoped. Turning the faucet on the water ran and she filled the little dish with it before looking around the first floor one more time and heading back down the stairs, she shut the basement door behind her.

Unpacking the towels she laid them down on the floor by the candles, the mirror, the burning charcoal and dish of water. Lastly she unpacked the blanket and laid it over the bed.

Almost done now. Almost perfect.

Calla shimmied out of the rest of her clothes and left her bra, panties, shoes, and slacks strewn out in a path behind her. Another long pull from Jack & Danny and she grabbed the overnight bag and put it on the bed. Slowly and carefully she took out the big Happy Kit and laid it on the bed. Next she took out the photograph of the four of them on the day she was married. Calla held that close to her heart for a few minutes before putting it down and removing Aphrodite’s anklet from the bag she placed it on her ankle. Opening the Happy Kit she unpacked the pills and dumped some on top of the frame. She put the bag of cocaine on the frame. The needle, vial of China White and spoon she left on the bed. Letting out a deep sigh she picked up her two favorite men along with the frame and its contents and brought them over to the mirror where she’d made a semi-circle out of all the objects she put by it. Scooping the pills up and choking them down with a mouthful of water from the little dish she put the bag of coke on the floor and the bottle next to it then took the photograph from the frame. Something was wrong with the picture and she had to make it right before she went any further.

Taking up the knife she held the photograph firmly on the cement floor at her feet and traced an outline around the image of her head. When she was done it popped right out like a jig-saw piece.

Much better.

Calla tossed it into the little fire and followed it with a handful of the powdered incense. Kissing the image of each one she loved Calla gently put the photograph back in the frame and stood it up by the mirror.

“Now, love, where shall we begin?” She asked her reflection as she sat naked, drunk and stoned out of her mind in front of the mirror. Never liking what she saw Calla really tried not to look in the mirror these days and now she was reminded of why. Who was that woman looking back at her from behind the glass? She didn’t know anymore. There wasn’t much she could about the hair but….

Calla dipped one of the towels into the water and washed her face clean of the make-up. “Much better.”

Next?

Oh, yes, right.

Those massive fake tits were staring at her from the glass. Calla never liked them either, they were heavy and forced her to wear a bra at all times. She missed going free whenever she wanted. The skin covering them was no longer sensitive, in fact they were so insensitive that not only didn’t she feel David’s hand on her the other night but months ago Calla found she could read a magazine or newspaper or whatever happened to be close by while Andy greased them up and slid his cock between them. “Yes, well, then, that makes three of us, darlin’. Three against one,” she said and took another long drink from the bottle while she opened the baggie of cocaine, “I guess you lose Andy. Sorry old chap.” Two pinkyfuls up her nose and Calla scooted a little closer to the mirror. She put her left hand behind her head so that she was holding onto to her head with that hand, she poured a good amount of Jack & Danny over her chest—we wouldn’t want an infection setting in now would we?-- and picked up the knife.

“Just cut along the dotted line. That’s all, love. Nice n Easy.” Calla was having a bit of trouble seeing the dotted line so she turned a little more so that she could see herself and the very minor scar where they’d cut her before. Sniffing in a nose full of fresh blood as she took in a deep breath Calla put the blade to the top of the scar, pressed down, and in one long slow motion sliced through her own flesh. Carefully applying pressure to the blade Calla followed the curve on her skin until a flap opened. After last night the physical pain wasn’t so bad and she’d had the foresight to choke down all those painkillers first. Besides her heart was in more agony than her body could ever be, all in all, she didn’t feel too much. It seemed Calla had found that level of Comfortably Numb she’d been looking for since Daniel left for that goddamn planet.

There was more blood than she expected it flowed down her side and covered her hand making it slick and sticky at the same time. Putting the knife down she used her hand to push against the unwounded side of her left breast and push the implant out. Once the sack of silicone started to appear between the folds of skin she grabbed it with a slick hand until she wrangled it free and it fell to the floor with a bloody little plop. In the mirror her left breast deflated and lay limply on her chest. “One down.” Repeating the motion with her right breast and not being left-handed and being a bit out of it the incision she made wasn’t as neat as she would have liked it to be but it was long and deep enough to finish the job. Besides it wasn’t as though another jagged scar was going to make a difference at this point. The other implant plopped out onto the cold cement floor.

Another drink another pinkyful and she reached out for the photograph. Calla clutched it tightly between her bleeding breasts as she started to cry. “It’s almost over. Don’t worry, Beautiful. Everything will be all right again.” She whispered to the photograph. “I’m sorry. I’m just no good, that’s all. It’s not your fault, my love.” Calla pulled the photo away from her body and stared down at Daniel’s blood covered smiling face. “I’ve never loved anyone but you.” Calla said as she traced the outline of his face. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

It’s time.

Calla brushed the tears away.

Yes, quite right, it is time.

Tossing another handful of incense onto the burning coals, she picked up the objects she needed to complete the task; cocaine, a candle, the knife, water dish and the photograph. Crawling because she couldn’t find the strength to stand she inched her way over to the bed and then clawed her way on top of it. No more little pinkyfuls this time, she had to be sure she stayed awake long enough to complete the task at hand and that this didn’t end up a half-assed job. That would be just awful. Calla put her face into the baggie and huffed in as much white powder as she could. Her heart raced and she thought it might explode but in a moment that subsided, the coke liked to cancel out the painkillers and some of the discomfort from her bleeding breasts was starting to settle in. That was all right the pain would help keep her awake.

Dumping the entire contents of China White from the amber vial into the tablespoon and dropping a small amount of the water onto the spoon but not too much she didn’t want it weakened. Sitting on the little bed in the room where she once kept her husband prisoner and cooking up the last fix she’d ever get she wondered again how it all got this far.

Doesn’t matter anymore.

Nope, it doesn’t.

Numb shaking hands filled the syringe and she shoved everything that was no longer necessary to the task at hand to the floor. Bringing the blanket up around her naked aching body she brought herself to a half upright position and put the photograph near where her head would be in just a few moments. She blew it a kiss and then slid the needle into her skin sending the poison coursing through her veins.

“I don’t think so, Andy.”

Doing her best to hold her right hand open and still against the bed she took the knife up in her left hand, held it high in the air, and then plunged it through the open palm. Calla was able to repeat the motion twice more before the heroin overdose finally took over and she collapsed on the make shift bed.

As her eyes closed the cell phone in the over night bag began to ring.

End Chapter Three
Tarnished Heroes:Something Happened on the way to Heaven
Continue to
Chapter Four