The Worst Story You’ll Ever Hear(Part 3)

IX.
Fortunately for myself, I didn’t have to go in to work the next day.  I slept until about three in the afternoon.  When I woke up, I could hear the vacuum running.  Alexis must have taken the day off of work.  I took a moment to recap what I’d done to end up in her bed, but with clothes still on.  It all came back soon enough.  An alcohol induced pity party.  Hello, My name is Stephen, and I’m a low-life.  I lit a cigarette and headed for my room.  I was thinking about what a bitch it was going to be to re-organize, but as I opened the door, I found that it had already been done.  Alexis must have gotten it in her head to clean my shit up.  My room was more than reorganized,  it was actually clean.  She was adding insult to injury.  I went and took a shower.  It’s always nice to take a shower after a night of heavy drinking.  It lets you clean off the stench of what a failure you’ve become.  If I had any beers left, it’d be time to crack one.
I walked into the kitchen and made myself a peanut butter sandwich.  Alexis was out on the balcony on her cell phone.  She looked calm enough.  I remembered about unplugging the phone last night, and quickly plugged it back into the wall.   I ate the sandwich, knowing it was a bad idea.  For some reason, food doesn’t sit well with me after a good binge.  Call me crazy, but even questionably suicidal people should try and take care of themselves from time to time.  Alexis came back in from the patio.  She was all dolled up in a nice looking dress and heels.  She had her hair pinned up and make up on.  Her hair being up, I noticed her cheekbones and strong jaw line.  “What’s the occasion?” I asked.
“We’re going to a reunion,” she said.
“That’s lovely.  You’re bringing Jason in kind of fast,” I said.  “Trying to get him to stick around?”
“Who said anything about Jason?” she asked.
“Well he called here last night trying patch shit up with you, so I figured he must have come by last night or gotten your cell or something,” I said.
“Oh, well he didn’t.  And besides, ‘we’ doesn’t mean him and me.  It means me and you.  Get dressed,” she said.
“Wait, what?  What are you pulling here, Alex?”
“You need to get out a little, Steve.  Besides, it is kind of your fault that Jason isn’t going with me to this.”  Fuck.  How long was she going to be lording that over me?
“Your point?  And why would you want to subject your family to me, anyway?”
“Because you’re the closest thing to a boyfriend I have.  And I told my mom and sisters I was bringing my boyfriend along today.”   I cringed when she said the word “boyfriend.”  Alexis and I, we had strict parameters with our friendship.  We substituted friend-like care for one another with compulsive sex.  This was a serious infraction of those rules.  “That’s low, Alex,” I said.
“Oh, I know.  But is it really going to kill you to socialize with people for a day?”  I took a cigarette from my pocket.  “And put something nice on.”
I came out of my room twenty minutes later with a pair of jeans and a button up shirt on.  The shirt had an ink stain on it, and the jeans were frayed around the boot line.  A definite no-go.  After I tried khaki shorts with the crotch ripped out of them and a polo shirt that had an unraveling collar on it, Alex came in and told me she would be picking my attire for the day.  I knew it was a bad idea.  I didn’t know she was going to get into my closet and find my old suit from high school prom.  “You really expect me to wear that fucking thing?” I asked her.  She looked at me and put her hands on her hips.  Fifteen minutes later, I was tying the only tie I owned.  It was plain black.  I hadn’t worn it since my senior prom.  The one where I went with some broad whose name I couldn’t quite remember.  I left after a half hour, because Rosalyn was there with that asshole Travis, and I’d run into them at the refreshment counter.  When they asked me who I came with, I told them, and they told me they’d seen her making out with some dude over by the photo booth.  I saw them dancing when I turned around to have a look at the photo booth.  This fucking guy, he had his hands all over her ass.  Rosalyn looked upset at the prospect that I’d been set up like that.  Travis smirked and said I really knew how to pick dates.  I wish I could sit here straight faced and tell you that I’d punched him or poured grape juice on his shirt.  Instead, I left like a whiny bitch and got drunk alone instead of going to an after party with the group we’d gone with.
An hour later, I was stepping out of Alexis’ car, which was parked in the driveway of her grandparents’ house.  They had one of those really long driveways that were all gravel.  I had sunglasses on to alleviate the sun’s affect on my vicious hangover.  I had day beard, and a cigarette hung loosely from my lips.  I would have fit perfectly in a movie about bank robbing or gun running.  Alexis looked at me, hands on her hips.  “Seriously, Steve, you can’t smoke in front of my family.  They still think I quit,” she said.
“As far as I can tell, that only means that you can’t smoke in front of your family,” I said, dragging heavily on the smoke in my mouth.  “Besides, I think your aunt or mom or someone’s already seen me.”  I motioned towards the woman standing on the porch, where a middle-aged Hispanic woman was standing with her hands on her hips.  It was uncanny how much she looked like Alexis.  I pitched the cigarette butt into the road and we walked up to the house.  The woman greeted us, she gave Alexis a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  “Oh, Alexis,” she said in a distinctly I-told-you-so tone that was distinguishable despite the language barrier, “¿un novio lo que fuma?”
“Ya se, abuela,”  Alexis said with a sigh.  My rudimentary Spanish was sufficient enough to know that Alexis was talking to her grandmother.  Shocking.  “This is Stephen,” Alexis said.  Then, with the slightest hesitation, “mi novio.  And Stephen, this is my grandma Marquez.”  I extended my hand for a handshake.  Abuela Marquez went straight for the hug.  It threw me off at first, mostly  because the old woman didn’t have the same scent that most old people have.  You know, that strange mixture of flowers and imminent death.  “Come, come,” she said.  We walked inside and it all began.  I was introduced to aunts and uncles, cousins, nephews, nieces, all of them.  Names were being thrown at me so fast I couldn’t remember any of them.  We went out into the back yard where a massive barbecue was already underway.  Alexis’ family took family reunions very seriously.  Three giant grills had food cooking on them.  There were coolers upon coolers stocked with water and soda and beer.  Alexis’ father and uncles were manning the grills.  A few of her older cousins were sitting around at card tables playing spades and drinking beers.  One of them saw me looking in their direction and waved me over.  I went and stood next to the table.  “Hey, have a beer, man,” one of them said.  I recognized him after a second.  He was Eduardo, and he was Alexis’ brother.  “What’s the deal?”  I took a swig of beer and smirked.  “You know, I owe Alexis one or two,” I said.
“So you two, you’re dating now?”
“Oh, no, man,” I said.  “Just came along for the company.”  Eduardo looked around at his cousins and laughed a bit.  He said something in Spanish, and the rest of them laughed even harder. “No, ese, I mean you’re dating now.”
“I don’t think I follow.”  I took out a cigarette and offered him one, which he took.
“It’s like this, vato.  Abuela Marquez, she thinks you are her boyfriend, so now you are.”  He laughed.  The rest of them laughed as well.  “Which, that makes you family now.  Grab a chair, man.”  I pulled up a chair and watched them play.  I’m no great spades player, but I understand how the game works.  A few hands went by, they all made their bids, and Eduardo’s team was crushing the other team.  “So, you still got that job down there on 72nd and David?” Eduardo asked after a couple of minutes.
“Yeah, I do.  Pays like shit, though.”
“¿De verdad?”
“Yeah, man,” I said.  “I can’t pick up the hours.  Probably going to have to start looking for a new job soon.”
“You got a car, man?”
“Yeah,”  Eduardo stubbed out the cigarette and took a piece of paper out of the notebook they were using to keep score on.  He jotted down a phone number and handed the paper to me.
“Mira, I got this guy I know.  He does work in transportation.  That’s my number, vato, Drop me a line later if you need some work.  I could maybe line some shit up for you.”  I put the piece of paper in my jacket pocket.  “Thanks, man,” I said.  I shook his hand.  “No problem.  Hey, you’re family now.”  Everyone at the table laughed.  Everyone except me.
As I was walking away from the table, Alexis came over to me and took my arm.  “What were you and Eduardo talking about?”
“Nothing important,” I said.  “Just bullshit.”  But she wasn’t having any of it.
“I’m serious,” She said.
“Wow, I’m starting to think it’s not just your grandma who thinks we’re dating,” I said with a smirk.
“Oh, shut up.  It’s not like she’s going to keep tabs on you.”
“Maybe not, but How many dinners am I going to have to show up at before we break up?”  She paused for a second, like she had some smart ass remark to come back at me with, then said, “Probably two or three.”
“Awesome.  At least it got Eduardo to cut me a break,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing big.  He just said he might know of a new job for me.”
“Oh, Jesus, Stephen.  This so-called transport guy he knows?”
“Yeah, why?”
“The guy doesn’t ship speakers around.  He’s a drug runner.”
“Oh,” I said.  I stopped to grab a beer out of the cooler.
“Whatever you do, just don’t call him about it, okay?”
“Fair enough,” I said.
“I’m being serious.  Look, I know money’s tight right now, but I’m sure you’ll pick up those hours, and I’m sure the hospital will call me back soon.  We’ll get by fine.  Just promise me you won’t call him, okay?”

X.
My first deal with Eduardo was a few days later.  I’d called him after finding out my hours at the gas station were being cut from 25 to 15 a week.  I was barely covering my half of the rent on 25.   I met him in a parking lot at some abandoned warehouse somewhere.  I got out of my car and zipped up the old bomber jacket I’d gotten several years ago as a present from my mom.  Eduardo was wearing a thermal undershirt under a button up black shirt.  It was 11:30 at night, and the fucking guy was wearing sunglasses.  He was probably fucked up on coke or some shit.  There was another guy who waited until Eduardo and I had exchanged pleasantries before he stepped out of Eduardo’s SUV.  He was wearing a black suit and also had shades on.  He stood a good six and a half feet, easy.  He had a backpack in his left hand.  Eduardo smiled.  “This is the guy I was telling you about, man.  He can get this shit done for you, no problem.”
“I’m sure he can,” the tall man said.  He tossed the bag to me.  I caught it.  It wasn’t as heavy as I expected it to be.  “There is a 7/11 on the corner of Glenn and Pike.  The buyer will meet you there in twenty minutes.  Call Eduardo when you make the deal, then bring the money back here.”  He spoke in a flat voice.  It was almost like listening to the weather channel.  I nodded.  “Glenn and Pike, call Eduardo,” I repeated.  I lit a cigarette.  “And Stephen, I’ll know if the take is short.”  There was an awkward pause.  I nodded again.  “Glenn and Pike, twenty minutes,” I said.
I don’t think I’ve obeyed traffic laws so strictly ever as I did on the way over to that fucking store.  I got over there at 11:45 pm.  I killed the engine and sat in my car, smoking.  A couple minutes later, an old car pulled up next to me.  There was a guy in it wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses.  He looked at me and nodded.  I grabbed the bag and stepped out of my car at the same time he stepped out of his.  We walked around to the trunk of his car.  He popped it.  “Well,” he said in a gruff voice,  “let’s see it.”  I opened the backpack and took out a plastic wrapped bundle of grayish white powder.  He took it and turned it over in his hand a couple times, then put it on the electronic scale that was in his trunk.  The scale read out to 507 grams.  The man nodded.  He took a knife and cut the bundle slightly.  He scooped a bit of crank with his finger and rubbed it on his gums, then nodded again.  I was looking around at the streets constantly.  “Relax, kid, look at the fuckin’ neighborhood you’re in.  You don’t have to worry about cops.”  I sighed.  “One thing though,”  he said,  “What if I decided to turn this knife on you?”  I eyed him suspiciously.  His face didn’t flinch.  He could have used that fucking knife to cut the tension in the air.  “Relax, junior,” he said to me after a few moments, “I’m just fucking with you.”  He tossed me an envelope and slammed the trunk of his car shut.  Then he got in and drove away.  I went immediately to the pay phone at the back of the parking lot and called Eduardo.  He picked up on the third ring.
“Yeah, vato?”
“I took care of it,” I said.
“Good.  Come by my place.  We’ll meet you there.”
I hung up the phone and got into my car, lighting a cigarette.  My hands were shaking from the adrenaline rush.  On the way to Eduardo’s I didn’t so much as look at the envelope sitting on the passenger’s seat of my car.  When I got there, he answered the door and ushered me in quickly.  The tall guy was sitting in the living room.  I laid the envelope down on the coffee table.  Stretch took it calmly and counted it.  “Did you count the take?” He asked me.
“Well, no,” I said.
“Why not?  How would you know if you’d been ripped off?”  I began stuttering, but he cut me off.  “Relax, it’s all here.”  I heard a door down the hallway open and then the guy who I’d just made the deal with at 7/11 walked into the living room.  “What’s going on, junior?”  He said.
“What the–” I began, but the tall guy cut me off.
“You didn’t think I was just going to hand you half a key on blind trust, did you?”  I stood there, jaw dropped.  “Congratulations, Stephen.  You passed the test.”  Eduardo came out of the kitchen with drinks for us all.  Hello, my name is Stephen, and I am now officially a drug mule.