Cricket: Ember's Story

Snitch

I heard once on the news that overdose deaths are referred to as "deaths of despair" in professional circles. That's the same category as suicides. It makes sense to me now.

Gus comes back the next morning. Even though he's not through self destructing, his body has had enough and is demanding food and rest. He doesn't look like the same Gus I knew six days ago. This Gus looks like a dirty, homeless tweaker (which I guess he is if it comes down to it). His face is all scabbed up from picking at himself, his hair is matted with some dark substance (blood?), and he's skin and bones.

The first thing he says to me is, "You think this looks infected?"

He holds up his wrist to reveal a cut that's oozing green pus. I gag.

"What happened?" I ask, still coughing.

"My hand went through a glass window."

"Just went right on through, huh?"

"I may have punched it..."

I don't ask why. What's the point?

"Come here," I say, and he follows me to the bathroom.

Gus hoists himself up onto the counter while I dig for a first aid kit in the cabinet. I don't find one of course, so I just pump some antibacterial hand soap onto a washcloth and press it against the wound. Gus winces.

"Ow! Ow that hurts! Ember! It stings!" he whimpers.

"Yeah it hurts because it's infected as fuck! Where have you been?" I ask him.

Gus shrugs. "Everywhere. I came back for more tweak but Doc's bein' a bitch and won't gimme it. You got any on you? I already asked Hex."

I look at him and raise an eyebrow. "No. And Doc's just trying to keep you alive."

"Why are you guys here anyway?"

I reluctantly tell him about what happened at the gas station.

"You can't stop me from smokin'," he says in the most "defiant" voice that Gus is capable of using.

I press a bandage onto the clean cut and roll my eyes. "Just trying to keep you alive."

"Well you don't need to. None of y'all need to! I'm fine! Damn."

"I already saw one friend in a body bag. Not in the mood to see another."

"Well then I'll go someplace way off where I can get high in peace!"

This conversation is starting to piss me off. "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want," I snap.

Unfortunately, staying mad at Gus is hard.

"You have my puppy?" he asks softly, his eyes worried. "Don't tell Doc. He'll make fun of me."

My heart melts despite my annoyance. "Yes I have it. Hold on."

I go back to our room and take the stuffed dog out of my backpack, holding it by the ear and shuddering at how filthy it is. As soon as I give it to Gus, he grins and squeezes it tightly to his chest, kissing its head.

"That thing is disgusting," I say, making a face. "Let me wash it."

I reach for it, but Gus jerks away from me. "No!"

"Fine. I can't decide which one of you is grossest anyway. You deserve each other."

Gus laughs for the first time since Adam died, but it's short lived. His eyes fill with sadness again.

"I'm really tired, Ember," he says quietly.

"I know. Go to sleep."

"Thanks for fixin' my cut," he says, giving me a hug on his way out of the bathroom.