Turning A New Leaf

Thirty-Nine

Brad had been staying at his mother's for barely three weeks when the first bag was found. Linda has suspected he was still using as he was not home, and when he was home, he was holed up in his room.

His bedroom was directly above the room she shared with Bill. They could hear him through the ceiling, moving around in the middle of the night, or talking on his phone.

Bill had wanted to boot him out as soon as he noticed the behavior, but Linda protested that weird sleep hours were hardly indicative that he was using and she was going to cause unnecessary problems based on that.

The fact was, she didn't want to admit that he clearly was using. That particular day, Linda had decided to look in Brad's room while he was out, under the pretense of tidying. His room, as it had always been, was neatly arranged with nothing out of place.

There was, however, a basket full of dirty laundry. Linda dragged it downstairs to the washroom, checking every pocket of every button-down, sweatshirt, and pair of pants until she found something: a jewelry bag with a few tiny crystals in it. They had come out of the sweats she had seen him wear only a few days prior, meaning this was not something he'd inadvertently brought from his home. It was new.

Her heart sank as she stared at the bag in her open palm. If she told Bill, Brad would need to leave, his addiction potentially getting worse the same way Krist's had. But then again, she knew she would be enabling him by allowing him to stay. She ultimately decided to flush it, keeping her discovery to herself.

****

Krist was driving home from work, well to the dispensary and then home, when the phone rang. The caller ID read "B-Rad." Krist didn't necessarily want to speak with Brad but assumed Brad was calling for an actual reason, not chit-chat.

"Hello?" He answered. All Krist could make out to initially was muffled crying. "Hello?" he repeated.

"Krist?" A female voice asked. Krist's face tightened. Lainey. "I know you don't want to talk to me," her voice broke up, "But I just need to talk to someone."

"Where's Brad?" Krist demanded, "Why do you have his phone?"

Lainey sniffled, "He and Madi left to go get more shit. He left me his phone so I could call you."

Krist turned into the dispensary's parking lot, putting his car into park, "Look, Lainey, you need to stop calling me and messaging me. I'm married, and I got a family. Like, I don't even know what you're trying to accomplish by calling. I ain't trying to be a dick or nothin', but, bro, you got to stop."

He could hear her crying softly, "Krist, I just have nobody no more. Madi blew me off for your brother, my mom cut me off, and I'm living down at the Unicorn. Like, I can't keep living like this. I have nobody," she told him between sniffles.

Krist groaned. It sounded like Lainey was coming down. "Yo, you need to worry about yourself and stop worrying about other people. Nobody but you can fix you, bro. You need to fuckin' go to detox and move out of Portland. There ain't shit for you here other than dope."

Lainey sniffled again, "I'm so tired of being alone, like I got nobody, and I've had nobody for me. I mean, even with you, you literally were just with me as a way to kill time until Atira came back to you."

Krist became irritated with her, "Dude, I'm not even trying to get into this with you. You know that's not true."

"Then why was it so easy for you to just leave me and move on like nothing?" she asked.

"Oh my fucking god, Lainey, we are talking about shit from almost four fucking years ago. I moved on from you because I have my kid and can't be living like some fucking cluck, bro," he told her, unable to hide the frustration in his voice. "I don't know what you want from me."

Lainey wept on the other end. Krist felt a pang of guilt eating at his core.

"Look, I get how you feel, but getting high ain't gonna change nothing. I guarantee your mom will be there for you if you can get your shit straight. And Madi? Bro, fuck Madison. She ain't nothing but a bag whore. You guys aren't even good friends to each other.

"You deserve better than the life you have, Lainey. I'm sorry that I can't be a part of it, but you deserve more than you are giving yourself."

Lainey sniffled, "Thank you, Krist."

"Look, I got to go. I'm serious, though. I can't be having you calling me or nothing, please, Lainey," he pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Krist. Have a good life. I love you."

He ended the call, blocking Brad's number, and buried his face in his hands, exasperated. Fucking Lainey.

****

Krist came home in a funk after the conversation with Lainey. He kissed his wife on the forehead, hugging her tightly. "How's my baby?" he asked.

"Growing and making momma sick," she told him, a worn look on her delicate face.

"Fucking Lainey called me," Krist told Atira, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

Atira's body stiffened, "How did she get your number?"

Krist rolled his eyes, "Brad let her use his phone," he muttered, twisting open a bottle of water. "Bro, goddamn, she's a mess. She was crying about how she got nobody and some stupid shit about me using her to kill time until you came back. I'm so tired of her popping up. I don't know what she wants from me, but whatever it is, I don't have it."

"You talked to her?" Atira asked quietly.

"Maybe for five minutes, I blocked Brad's number on my phone. I ain't tryna to talk to either of them. Really I ought to change my number. Only people I talk to are you, my mom and, Jeordie, and Cami."

She nodded, "That's probably a good idea."

****

Brad and Madison returned to the Unicorn around ten that night, "I brought goodies!" Madison called as she opened the door to Lainey's motel room. Lainey was lying in bed, curled up into a fetal position.

"Oh my god, bitch wake up," Madison whined, reaching to shake Madison's arm when she noticed something off with her friend's appearance. "Lainey," she shook her vigorously, "Lainey!"

Brad rushed over, rolling Lainey onto her back. Her skin had taken on taken on a blueish-gray, mottled pallor. Her eyes were open, pupils fixed and dilated. He felt her neck for a pulse. Nothing. She was cold to the touch.

He noted a used syringe next to a dirty spoon on the bedside table, "Do you have any Narcan?" he asked Madison urgently.

"No!" Madison wept.

Reckless idiots.

"I need you to call 911. I'm going to start CPR," he told Madison calmly as he scooped Lainey up, resting her lifeless body on the floor.

"What do you mean call 911?!" Madison began to panic.

"We need an ambulance. She needs help," Brad snapped at her, beginning CPR.

"Brad, I'm on hold! How can I be on hold for 911?!" Madison shrieked, her voice shrill.

Brad continued CPR, "You just need to wait for an operator," he told her firmly.

It, unfortunately, was not unusual for there to be a hold time for emergency services in Portland. With the shortage of dispatchers and overabundance of fentanyl overdoses, it was no wonder. The local news had even warned citizens not to call 911 unless it was a life-or-death situation.

It took nearly twenty minutes for Madison to get through to a dispatcher. Brad knew Lainey was gone gone but refused to stop CPR until EMS arrived.

****

It took nearly an hour for EMS and the police to arrive on the scene. Brad had not ceased CPR until an officer had him move aside to announce what they'd already known basically. "She's gone."

Madison had crumbled to her knees. A gut-wrenching howl escaped her lips. Brad helped her to her feet, hugging her tightly.

Lainey's body was loaded onto a stretcher and covered by a sheet by solemn-faced paramedics. The officer on scene asked a few general questions while appearing bored. He hadn't even asked their names. It was just another fentanyl death in Portland.