Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [113]
I don’t know what else I can do. Of course, I realize that Jacob will probably get angry and defensive, and he may just storm away and perhaps never call me again. But, really, what else can I do? For all I know his life might be in danger from an overdose right now. I convince myself that I’m doing the right thing, and I pray for God to help me this time. Help us. Help this to work and help Jacob to see that he needs this.
Jacob abruptly sits up as the car comes to a stop and I turn off the engine. Looking around as if he’s not sure where he is, he turns and stares at me. “What’s going on?” he asks.
“You called me for help today, Jacob,” I remind him.
He nods. “Yeah?”
“And I can’t help you.” I take a breath. “But this place can.”
He looks across the parking lot to the drab buildings on the other side, frowning as full realization sets in. “Oh, Mom,” he moans.
“You need treatment.” I use the firmest voice I can muster. “If you continue using crystal meth, you are going to die, Jacob.” I reach over and touch the shoulder of his filthy coat. “Can you hear me, Jacob? You are going to die. Do you want to die?”
He shakes his head. “No…”
“Then just try this,” I tell him. “If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.” Even as I say these words, I have absolutely no idea whether they can even take him right now. It’s only a couple of weeks before Christmas, and I don’t even know if there’s a bed available. But I don’t know what else to do, where else to go. I continue to pray silently now. Hoping for a miracle, I guess.
“I don’t need this, Mom,” he says, and I sense that his strength and resistance are returning to him.
“You do need this, Jacob. Without this you are going to die.”
He closes his eyes tightly, as if trying to shut out my words.
“I don’t want to lose you, Jacob,” I tell him, choking back a sob. “I’ve seen Sherry after losing Matthew… I don’t want that to happen to—”
“I’m not going to die, Mom.” He sounds seriously agitated now. I know that I am pressing too hard.
I take a deep breath. I want to be strong, to play this out the best I can. “Okay, maybe you won’t die, Jacob. At least not physically. But your soul is dying every single day that you continue using meth. Your spirit is dying.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that, Jacob. When I look in your eyes, I see emptiness, hopelessness. Death. How can you stand it? Don’t you want to be alive again?
“I want to get out of here,” he says in a tight voice. “Lets go, Mom. Now!”
I know this is my last chance, and I feel desperate. Very desperate. I consider the one thing I’ve been holding back, my final possibility to persuade Jacob to rethink this thing. I know that it could either work or blow up in my face. And if history repeats itself, I should be prepared for an explosion.
“Okay,” I finally say. “You say you’re not going to die, Jacob. And maybe that’s true. I certainly hope it’s true. But how do you feel about going to prison?”
“Prison?” he looks at me and shakes his head. “Yeah, sure.”
“It could happen, Jacob. In fact, it’s quite likely.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You made it very obvious that you broke into your dads house, Jacob.”
He looks surprised now, confused even. As if he barely remembers the incident, as if he never expected to be found out. “What?”
“You broke the law, Jacob. You vandalized and stole expensive items, I assume to be pawned for more drug money”
“Huh?”
“Maybe you don’t remember it clearly, Jacob. I’m guessing you were high at the time. But, believe me, you left plenty of evidence behind. Notes, fingerprints, you name it. Not very smart unless you wanted to get caught. Did you want to get caught?”
He shrugs and looks away. I can tell he is getting very uncomfortable.
“Your father could press charges against you, Jacob. Maybe he already has. I don’t know for sure, but he was very angry Has it occurred to you that you could be picked up by the police at any