A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [169]
I ain’t got no rock. I ain’t got none.
I step back.
I ain’t got none, I ain’t got none, don’t take my rock, don’t take it.
I step through the door.
There ain’t nothing here, Motherfucker, there ain’t nothing for you, you dirty white Devil you dirty white Pig.
Away and back. About halfway to the stairwell, just as his voice fades, the man starts screaming who the fuck’s there, Motherfucker, who the fuck’s there. I ignore him. Who the fuck’s there, Motherfucker, who the fuck’s there?
I move down the other Hall. Beneath the screams I hear new noise. Another hiss, the cackling laughter, creaking floorboards, inhalation and exhalation. I push open another door. I see three women and a man sitting on the floor in the middle of a Room. Their eyes are all wide and empty. One of the women is inhaling from a pipe. She sucks so hard her cheeks are caving in. She finishes and she passes the pipe to the woman next to her, who takes it and holds the torch to its tip and inhales. I don’t say a word to them, they don’t say a word to me. I want that pipe I would die for that pipe hold on get away. As I reach for the door, I hear the cackle. I shut the door and keep moving down the Hall.
It is quiet. The man has stopped screaming. The only noise is of my feet stepping on old boards, faded newspapers and shards of glass. I look into each Room, but they are all empty. I fight the urge to go back for some rock the urge is growing stronger each second. As I near the end of the Hall, I hear a man’s voice saying oh Baby, yeah Baby, suck it Baby, suck that big fat dick. Under the voice I hear spit on flesh moving back and forth, back and forth. The Fury flares to full strength and I remind myself I am here to retrieve, not to hurt. I am here to retrieve and get out. My urges are growing. Retrieve and get out. As fast as I fucking can.
I get to the end of the Hall and I stand in front of a door. Behind it I hear oh yeah, you little Whore, just like that take it all take it all, you little Whore. I open the door and I step into the Room and she’s there on her knees, her face buried in an old man’s crotch. There is a pipe and torch on the floor next to her.
He looks over says what the fuck she looks up and gasps. In her eyes is the greedy need, the desperate insanity, the awful shame and the complete obsession of crack. She falls back away from the man whose khakis are at his ankles he yells what the fuck are you doing in here. I ignore him and I step toward her I am here for her. He reaches for a bottle I see it out of the corner of my eye and I stop and I turn around and I take one step toward him. He’s within striking distance and he has a bottle in his hand. I strike. A quick hard backhand across one of his cheeks. It stuns him and I take another step forward. He shrinks against the wall and I stare at him.
I’m not here to hurt you.
He stares back at me. His eyes are wide. He’s scared.
Get your shit and get the fuck out of here.
He starts pulling up his pants, looking around the floor for whatever he has with him. I turn back to Lilly, who is clutching the bag of crack and the pipe and crawling backward into a corner. I reach toward her with one hand.
Come here, Lilly.
She crawls backward, shakes her head.
Come on. We’re going Home.
She into the corner, clutching her gear. She shakes her head.
We’re going to leave that shit here and we’re going Home.
She clutches, shakes her head, her eyes are gone, she is gone. She speaks.
No.
I step toward her.
Yes.