One rogue. Two rogues. Three rogues.
The light from the flickering light bulb cast weird shadows in the dusty cram-full basement. The new stuff was unloaded and he and Toby were bustling around it, preparing small doses from the half-kilo packages heroin.
“The business is growing, Toby. This is both an opportunity and a run in heavy weather.”
“I see that too, Billy. If we could clone ourselves, offloading the stuff faster on the street wouldn’t be such a pain.”
Billy nodded. He was fluffy, a thickset ruffian with a constant slightly surprised expression on his rounded, frowning face. Toby was skinny, cheeky dodger, who shaved once a month and was wearing worn-out, dirty clothes, which was particularly useful when he was melting into their usual clientele: homeless suckers and drunk youth. He was slimy like an eel and was feeling a great deal of pride with his skill to make the police look stupid without repercussions.
Toby crowned a pile of trash with his ass, interrupting his lucrative activity for a moment.
“The loco Caribbean cause me trouble again about Loose Goose. The bar is obviously too close to their territory, we are not supposed to stick around there.”
“Are those daft? I smell kicking of emigrant asses around.”
“Fucking stray dogs are those, bark but don’t bite. I am not bothered to make my hands dirty with them. I will tell them to fuck off, and if they don’t get the message, you can convince them it was not a joke.”
The stuff was the only matter in the dirty basement diligently put into a neat order. Everywhere were rolling pieces of broken furniture, cardboard and plastic wraps. The two of them were simply ploughing through the garbage, without showing that they’ve noticed it. The meagre light was making their eyes look hollow and they had the appearance of distorted old men. But the distortion was not only skin-deep. For years and years, their dirty occupation was annihilating even the smallest sparks of humanity and was poisoning their essence with a despise of the human weakness and endless desire to earn more and more, to exert almost unlimited power over the lost souls who needed their unnatural substances.
“Shell we pop by the twin towers?”
“Good idea.”
Toby snatched about ten doses and hid them into his scruffy denim jacket, then followed his heavy friend along the squeaking staircase. Outside was a beautiful spring day, they sky benevolently blue and cool breeze was refreshing the pedestrians on their daily routine. The two high-rises were notorious with poor and unhappy residents, who often needed the goods of these two smart businessmen. Provided that the weather was good, they often occupied the benches in front of the buildings, absolutely insufficient for those who wanted some fresh air without breathing in the neck of their fifth-floor neighbour. Yes, they were there, several druggies. Nod, quick exchange of money for poison, clear exit, Toby and Billy had no reason to waste more time there.
“You know what, Billy, I was thinking John. He might be up for the job.”
“I was thinking some dumb young “clean skin” who would do it for a tracksuit and a mobile. John is not right, he is a hard worker, not a crook material.”
“Get serious, he is reliable and struggling. He just needs a bit of a, hmm, hot forging.”
“I still think it is a dumb idea, but let’s see if he is hanging in the pub as usual.”
They found him sitting alone and contemplating a pint of beer. John was a middle-aged, slightly bent down, slightly more intelligent than a normal pub rat. He was often found in the pub since he had no better things to do with ruined family and only occasional jobs.
“Hi, John. You look miserable.”
“I had a meeting with my work coach. The pedants from the benefits keep pressuring me to increase my earnings, but there is no work.”
“Maybe you are not looking at the right place. Why don’t we go for a walk?” Billy put his gigantic arm on the confused man shoulders. “Toby, wait for me in the house.”
“Sure, Billy.”
Toby spent the next two hours changing the channels on their wide-screen TV until he heard the door slam.
“Freaking dumb-ass.”
“Turned you down?”
“Like a mule on a narrow bridge. Said it was not his kind of thing.”
“So what do we do, Billy, we need a new man and not some creep that is going to crack after the first problem with the police. For what is worth, John is tough as nail.”
“He is taking cash in hand for his gardening, right? And he is on benefits. What if…?”
“Got you, I’ll make a phone call.”
They met the ill-fated man three days later, after keeping their eyes open for him, staring emptily in the water from the Lambeth Bridge.
“Don’t jump, man, everything will be alright.” Laughed at him the two culprits.
“Yeah, man, have fun. Meanwhile, I am in deep shit.”
“You are, this is not something new.”
“Ok, deeper shit. They’ve stopped my benefits. I spent all day yesterday in their office, explaining why I did not declare all my income, you know, I earn few quits here and there, and they found out about it.”
“Lol, good luck with your next rent, man. You cannot gather so much money even if you bite your own ass. You are going to be on the streets.”
John nodded, his eyes large and rounded, full of desperation.
“Even if you pay your rent, there is council tax coming. If you cannot pay that, it is jail for you. See what these people are doing? First the jobs are for freaking Pakistani and Indians, and you can suck their dicks, then no help anyhow, and finally, you break the law. Is this the way you want to be pushed around?”
“Yeah, man, you are letting them waste you like a wet newspaper.” Added Toby with somewhat of compassion on his hollow face. “Come on man, our business offer is still valid. Get yourself out of this swamp, and what is your problem anyway. If we do not sell our stuff, it will be the Caribbean or the Russians. What else is there for you, you need the money, we need you.”
“Come with us tonight, job-shadow Toby, we will train you, drugs are selling themselves basically, you just need to hang around with the right people and you’ll see the end of your misery.”
John looked anything but convinced. His drawn features betrayed intense inner fight. But the decency lost that fight.
“What the hell. It is not like I have a choice.”
“That’s not the right attitude. It is a rare chance. Your children will be saying “We come from money.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“The club, ten o’clock tonight, you need to dish out some stuff.”
John nodded, but his inner voice was screaming “What deep shit!”. He headed home.
His major worry should have been the police however he knew that there was very little danger for small-time dealers, so he was not bothered, at least not by the perspective to end arrested. There was something else. His self-respect went through the window. So far no matter how difficult his life was, nobody could accuse him of being lazy or irresponsible. He was struggling to find jobs, but he was always helpful in the end. Now he was entering a circle of people who did not give a damn for the things that were driving the rest of the human beings, they were driven by their really low, low instincts and had absolutely no moral compass. John was terrified. How would he discuss with his few friends the problems of the educational system and at the same time distribute this shit among youngsters? The two rogues were right: it was a life-changer, and the first change was that he was losing his previous contacts and aspirations. Unless he finds out he was the biggest hypocrite ever born, of course.
The house was cold. The coldness slid over his skin and for a moment he thought it reached deep into his soul. John wasn’t some kind of a moralist, preaching on and on about pious life, but the idea of dragging naïve losers to the rock bottom was eating him like a poison. The perspective for a bright future also did not help. What kind of children will be proud of a drug dealer father?
With stooping shoulders and dropped head, John leaned at the table in front of the mirror in the corridor. He stood like this for an indefinite moment. He had no strength to look himself in the mirror, afraid that he was going to see the signs of vile and cruelty, written all over the faces of Toby and Billy. When he finally met his eyes in the mirror, he thought “Damn, I look ten years older.” Finding it too dramatic to smash the glass into million pieces, he rested on the sofa instead. But there was no rest for his irritated consciousness. Signing and tossing, and turning, and puffing, he was wondering how was he going to go through this, was it possible to get in, save few quits, get out? Probably not. These hyenas wouldn’t let go so easily. Time was ticking. There was no escape. The club was his fatal destination. He changed his clothes with less conspicuous and left the house.
On his way to the club, he felt like the scum of the universe. In his feverish mind were chasing suggestions what was his first victim going to look like, maybe pathetic, maybe sweet, or simply unpleasant. Come on, the faster he gets to it, the sooner it would be over with.
“John, you need a drink.” Toby tapped him friendly on the shoulder. The two rogues were waiting for him at a table close to the dance floor.
“Do you see that blond girl, the one that is at the edge of tears. She was clean for weeks, but I heard her boyfriend dumped her. I think it is an easy start. Go talk to her, with Toby, and try to dish out this.”
A small package changed hands. He followed Toby.
“Hi, Jessy, you’re alright?”
It was hard to say if she was happy to see him or repulsed like every normal human being had to be dealing with such a creep, nevermind, she smiled and they started chatting.
John observed the girl. His stomach felt rebellious and his ears were ringing. Who knew that something so easy as sneaking the dose to an addict was going to make him physically sick.
“You do not look too happy to see me, kid.” Slimy intonation and slimy smile from Toby accompanied his words.
“Actually it is two weeks since I haven’t touch heroin. I am trying to get off the drugs.”
“Two weeks. Nice. And why is that, you don’t’ want to have a good time anymore?”
“I am just better off without them.”
“How about one last dose, ha?”
“No, I really shouldn’t…”
The girl looked hesitant. Her vulnerability when her eyes fixed on Toby’s hands, pierced John’s heart. She was apologetically smiling and retreating but had no strength to give them the finger. She was so young, no more than twenty years old, and this shit they were palming her off, was the way to die young.
Toby smiled and leaned to John’s ear.
“Come on, man, think of something. This a is a regular client.”
John’s brain turned into a hot mush. His arm felt heavy and his tongue thick.
“Hi.”
“Hi. Haven't seen you with Toby before.”
“Yes. Look, darling, “John made an effort to overcome his pity. Money, he was doing it for money. Oh, what a deep shit.
“This is very, very good stuff. Try it, you won’t regret it.”
John took her hand and shove the little package.
The girl looked at him puzzled, then decisiveness flickered in her eyes.
“Here.” She took a few large notes out of her purse. And got lost towards the toilets. Well, that was it. The nerves of John were on the edge. Money, he was doing it all for money.
“Well done, man, let's keep the good work. I’ll show you around.”
John followed him downstairs to the underground floor. He couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he was making his first steps towards the abyss of hell.