Bone in the Throat - Anthony Bourdain [61]
"I don't know. The people here, the counselors, the director, they pretty much want you to stay on for life. You talk about detoxing from the methadone someday, they smile at you like 'Yeah, right. We'll be seeing you again, asshole.' People who leave the program tend to go back to the other thing."
"You think you're gonna do that?" asked Al.
"Go back someday? Not if there's any other alternative. No, no way. But I'm not gonna kid myself. I didn't have that dose tomorrow, I'd be right back at it. On the other hand, I don't want to be down here sucking down jungle juice with a bunch of other scumbags every morning for the rest of my life. It's not enough to not be a junkie someday. I don't even want to see any junkies."
"So someday you'll get off?"
"Yeah. When the time is right. When I think I can handle it for sure. You can go on a slow reduction. It's too early though. I'll know when I'm ready."
"You gotta get well, get your shit together first," said Al.
"Yeah. I'll know when I can hack it," said the chef.
"Good. That's really good."
"So. What do you want?" asked the chef.
"I figured I'd take you out to lunch," said Al. "You like raw fish? I thought we'd have us some sushi a place I know and shoot the shit. You eat yet?"
"No. But I'm not dressed," said the chef.
"Forget about. I'm not either," said Al. "You don't have to dress for this place. Guys who run the joint are running around in their fuckin' bathrobes there. C'mon, let me take you out to lunch. My treat."
"I don't know," said the chef.
"C'mon. I won't bite you. Not much anyway."
"There were a few things I was gonna do," said the chef.
"It'll be fun," insisted Al. "I'm fuckin' hungry here, alright? I gotta talk to you about a few things comin' up. You think I'm hangin' around out fronta a methadone clinic gettin a fuckin suntan? I came down here to see you. We gotta talk. You want to talk over a nice plate of sushi or you wanna come down to the office and maybe get a Snickers bar and a cup a coffee outta a machine? Your choice."
"I guess I'll go with the sushi," said the chef.
"Alright, then," said Al. "Now we're talkin'."
AL WAITED until after lunch, when they were just finishing the green tea ice cream, to come to the point. "Sorry to bring up business after such a nice meal, but you know . . ."
The chef slouched down in his chair a few inches.
"It's getting near showtime," said Al.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"What it means is you have to do something for us," said Al.
"Oh, yeah? Like what?" asked the chef.
"Like talkin' to your good friend Tommy," said Al.
"About what? We been through this. What can I do? He doesn't talk about anything like you want to know. I don't think he knows anything. Why don't you just leave him alone. And me too," protested the chef.
"We have to know some things that Tommy knows. He's gotta talk to us. You've got to get him to come in."
"Oh, maaan," groaned the chef. "I don't . . . I can't. . ."
"Listen. Just shut up and listen to me for a second. Your friend Tommy is gonna be having some big, big problems in the very near future. He got himself implicated in some serious crimes, some pretty heavy shit. We got him placed at the scene of a homicide. That makes him, at best, a material witness. And every day that goes by that he doesn't talk to us, he looks better and better for accessory or obstruction. Some of the people I work with, they like the guy for murder. Okay? So you understand what I'm saying here? This kid is headed down the tubes. Sooner or later, he's gonna be taking the free bus ride out to Rikers, and then maybe upstate. That's if he's fuckin lucky. Maybe, after he gets called before the grand jury, a couple a Uncle Sally's goombahs are gonna shoot him in the head."
"I don't get it," said the chef. "What did he do?"
"He did something," said Al. "We don't think he did something. We know he did something. Alright?"
"What am I supposed to do?"
"You're his friend. You're his good buddy and confidant. You're always saying that. Are you his friend?"
"Yes," said the chef,