What Comes Around: Part 2

Geoff sat at the small square kitchen table in his apartment before a large plate of scrambled eggs and toast. He poked at the yellow fluff with a fork, occasionally tossing a load into his mouth. Across from him was a second plate loaded with the same menu, but no one occupied the seat.

            The kitchen was open to the living room. He looked across at television that once stood on a small rolling stand but now occupied several spots on the floor. There was a large fresh indent in the wall where something of similar size to the TV had caved it in.

            Geoff stooped pretending to eat when he heard a car door shut down on the street. He rose from his chair and crossed to the kitchen window, pushing aside the drapes. Below he spied a taxi along the side of the road letting off a woman with dyed blond hair. She staggered out of the cab and paid the driver, who didn’t seem too impressed with the tip considering how quickly he departed. He then watched her look up at the window before going to the front door. Geoff didn’t bother moving out of sight.

            He returned to the table and listened to the footsteps stomping up the stairs, then down the hall to his front door. Keys jingled before clicking at the already open lock. Geoff shook his head as she locked the already open door. She tried to enter wondering why it was still locked, then worked her keys a second time.

            The door opened and the woman waddled inside. Her hair was matted and dirty. Heavy amounts of makeup that had been put on a very long time ago had run, dried again, and then cracked. Her eyes were half shut and appeared to be hemorrhaging with blood. Still she managed to grin at Geoff and wheeze, “Hello Geoffrey!”

            “Hi,” Geoff replied.

            “Ah, food. Am I hungry…” She began towards the kitchen stopping by the couch to toss her bag aside. She paused seeing the remains of the TV scattered along the floor. She glanced at Geoff sitting, watching her movements, and felt a sudden spark of fear. Still, she made the trip to the table and sat down across her brother. She starred down at the plate without moving for the fork and tried not to make eye contact with her brother.

            Geoff figured he might as well get this over with. “You’ve been gone for two days straight, without–one–word.”

            “I was with friends,” She answered.

            “Ridley.”

            “I was not with Ridley.”

            “Well, that’s funny because he had a completely different story.”

            “You talked with Ridley?” She peered at him from a freshly forming frown from under her eyebrows. “Is my own brother keeping tabs on me?”

            “Mr. Big wanted to talk to him,” Geoff said. “I just took care of two birds with one stone.”

            “You didn’t… do anything to him?”

            “Not what you’re thinking. But next time I guarantee you, I will, whether my boss okays it or not.”

            “You have no right…”

            “Don’t give me that bullshit Grace!” Geoff snapped. “What right do you have for running all over town, for two nights straight, with whatever scum you come across, stuffing who-knows-what up your nose and pumping anything you can get your mitts on in your veins? I am sick of this junkie-shit! Get you act together, get clean, or I’ll do it for you!”

            “Oh, and how do you think you’re going to manage that?” She shot back.

            “I’ll tie you to a chair and lock you in your room, if I have to.”

            “Oh, like you’re so perfect?” She screamed and stood up. “Look what you do with your life: You work for the mob, you kill people.”

            “I do what I have to do in this world.”

            “You’re a hypocrite!” She blasted. “You shoot down my life style while yours is ten times worse.”

            “I’m not trying to kill myself,” Geoff said.

            “I’m just trying to get as much fun out of this sick dying world as I can. Who cares if it kills me? No one cares! So why should I? And I’ll hang out with who I want, whenever I feel like it, and I’d better not hear that you’ve bullied them around for it or…”

            “Oh yeah, or what?” Geoff bellowed.

            “Or…or…I’ll slit your throat when you’re asleep!”

            Geoff barreled up from his seat grasping the side of the table. With a quick flick of his arm he overturned the table sending the glasses, cutlery and two plates, along with the breakfast they held, through the air. Little flakes of egg fluttered down to the ground like embers from a fire. “You dare threaten me? If it wasn’t for me you’d be dead by now! I looked after you in that hellhole of an orphanage, I got us out, I worked, I paid rent; what have you done? Get stoned!” Geoff marched across the room to the sofa where her bag rested. He grabbed it and began ripping the zipper open.

            Grace ran across when she realized what he was doing. They both struggled over the purse for a few moments until Geoff wrestled it free with a solid yank. She stumbled forward past her brother and tripped to the floor. She rolled over and rubbed her ankle twisted from the fall.

            Geoff opened the hand bag and dumped out the contents on the couch cushions. Cosmetics, a wallet and loose change fell out along with a clear plastic sealable bag inside of which was a white powdery substance. Geoff lifted the bag and scowled inside before tossing it back amongst the pile. He stormed back across the room and kicked the chair she had been sitting in across the kitchen. He came to a rest against the counter.

            Behind him, Grace collected herself and moved to the couch, returning everything into her bag, taking extra care with the drugs. She zipped it closed and threw it over her shoulder before walking up behind Geoff. “I need a twenty.”

            “What for?”

            “Cab.”

            “Where do you think you’re going?”

            “To Ridley’s.”

            “Walk,” Geoff said.

            So she did, with a slam of the door behind her.

            Geoff grasped the bridge of his nose and squeezed. He turned the kitchen table up right then moved into the living room to the coffee table on the far side of the couch. There he picked up the phone and dialed three numbers.

            “Hello, I need you to pick up my sister. She is carrying illegal drugs in her purse… About twenty grams of coke from the looks of it… Yes, I want you to charge her and then I want her placed in rehab… I don’t care if she wants to or not… I’m her brother; I’ll sign anything you need… Yes… Yes, the address she can be found at is…”