|
The blonde woman shook Renee's hand free and began to edge back toward Manuel. Her eyes were glued on the jolt that he held in his hand. Renee tried to resist. To break the spell. She knew that she had to leave Fran. She had to leave that room and run down the hall to the street and freedom. "You know," Manuel was saying casually, "the people outside, they will not be so good about providing for you. I mean," a pained expression crossed his face, "take my friend, Mr. Heroin. You think anyone out there will give him to you? No!" Manuel emphatically shook his head. |
|
|
"No," he whispered. "Out there they put you in a leetle room with bars. And they make you go, how you say, cold turkey."
When Renee shivered this time, it was with fear. Not to have a shot? She'd die. She couldn't do it! Longingly she stared at the door. But she knew that already it was too late.
Manuel's voice droned on and on and she fidgeted, first on one foot and then the other. She was starting to hurt. Her stomach was cramped and the muscles were being drawn out of her flesh like cold wires.
"Please!" Fran ran forward a few short steps and wrapped her arms around Manuel's legs. "Please!" the blonde girl cried. Tears flowed from her eyes, wetting her cheeks, dripping down on her breasts. " Un momento, senorita." Manuel chastised her for interrupting him.
Ploddingly he droned on, watching Renee furtively. She wanted to plead, to beg. She would have done almost anything for that needle. She couldn't go out the door, anymore. If only he wasn't waiting for her to beg, expecting it.
She stood and stared at the bright square of light at the window while she died ten times over---waiting, just lasting to the moment she could endure no longer.