\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1514151-Grey-4
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Crime/Gangster · #1514151
Greys story goes on
The Sickness part 1



Indulging in his sickness, he sits with thoughts of her….

or him, or then, or if only when.

The predicate changes but the verb remains his cure.

With blood filled eyes and misery on his breath

He cares nothing for the one he has, only for the next

Seeing not the new day, nor the coming of the dawn

Another man dies, but the sickness lives on



December 03, 2007, Providence KS.

Grey followed the voice of the GZ down into the darkness of the basement. His hand trailed along the crumbling cement of the ancient stone walls as he descended the narrow stairs into the dungeon. Grey had giving the dungeon its nickname. After being kicked out of his parents house in the late 90’s he was forced to sleep in its depths for a little over a month, and had not enjoyed his experience. Nowadays the GZ used it as a spot to slang dope out of and as a hang out. As he felt his way down the stairs, Grey vaguely recalled a scripture from his childhood, something about “fruitless deeds done in darkness.”

“Dude, where are you taking me?” Shoeless asked with obvious apprehension in his voice. He knew enough about Grey’s past to be nervous.

“Just relax man, its all good.” Grey replied.

After reaching the bottom of the stairs he began to grope his way past various unknown objects towards the faint glow coming from the back corner of the basement. The makeshift room was separated from the rest of the dungeon by hanging sheets, and was intentionally difficult to approach. After reaching the sheets, he pulled one aside to reveal the GZ sitting on one of two old couch’s, and staring blankly at the television, which was the room’s only source of light. The coffee table in front of the couch was littered with pipes, scales, cellophane bags, and other paraphernalia. The GZ was seldom organized.

“What’s up stranger,” the GZ said brightly, “I was wondering if I’d ever see your jagged face again.” The GZ often referred to Grey as jagged, in part due to his crooked smile and in part due to his once crooked nature.

“Well here I am. You look like you haven’t moved an inch since I left town.” The sound of shoeless trying to navigate his way through the maze of junk reminded him that he was not alone. “Oh yeah, I brought my boy with me, that’s him runnin into shit back there.”

“That’s cool,” He said standing up, “Well, you gonna give me some love or what? It’s been two fucking years man, you can’t slap my hand?”

“Shit man, you know we’re always gonna be brothers.” Grey said extending his hand to the GZ.

“Brothers don’t shake hands, brothers gotta hug.” The GZ exclaimed doing his very best Chris Farley impersonation and capturing Grey in an exaggerated bear hug. As he pulled away he subtly ran his hand over the center of Grey’s chest.

“Sorry bro, just being cautious,” he said, “you never know these days. So how the hell are you Grey. Civilian life treatin’ you ok?”

“Yeah man I’m good.” Grey took a seat on the couch opposite the GZ. “Oh yeah, this is my roommate, shoeless.” He said referring to the Shoe, who was standing on the edge of the room waiting to be introduced.

“What’s up man,” the GZ said standing and shaking hands with Shoeless, “Any friend of Grey’s is a friend of mine. Have a seat man.” Shoeless nodded and mumbled a word of thanks as he took a seat next to Grey on the couch opposite the GZ.

“Why are you still slangin out of the dungeon man?” Grey asked, “I would have thought a baller like you would have upgraded by now. It smells like piss down here.”

“That’s cause I piss in the sump pump,” he said with a smile. “I guess I could go somewhere else, but this place is easy and safe. All the nice places I’ve tried to hustle out of get their fucking door kicked in. Besides, it’s better to keep things ghetto. Cops only wanna bust a motherfucker if they think he makes more money than they do.”

The GZ’s cell phone which had been sitting on the coffee table rang and he quickly answered. He looked at Grey as he spoke into the phone. He had a Lazy eye which had always creeped Grey out to a degree. Grey could never tell if he was looking at him or at some phantom stranger standing just behind his left shoulder. Gerald had always been skinny, but in the faint light of the television Grey thought that he was looking downright Skeletal. His ribs seemed to protrude from his pasty pale skin, a sign that he had been hitting it especially hard of late.

“Naw bro, I'm still not workin.” He said into the phone, “I’ll let you know when I get back into some shit, but for now just quite fucking calling. Things are hot around here, aright.” He hung up the phone.

“I swear,” He said to Grey, “These fuckers just don’t get it. Everyone knows that I’m out of the game for now, but they just keep calling.” He picked up a plate from beneath the coffee table holding several rails, did one, and then offered the plate to Grey, who refused, and to Shoeless, who gratefully accepted. It was obvious to Grey that things were bad for the GZ. Dope and desperation were a dangerous combination, and he thoroughly reeked of both.

“You got something to drink around here?” Grey asked, beginning to feel nervous. He had forgotten the force with which every moment he experienced in the dungeon weighed down upon him, and was beginning to feel as though he was in danger of being crushed.

He was also becoming increasingly anxious over his upcoming reunion with Sam. He wondered what she might look like and how the years may have changed her.

“Yeah man, I got some beers in the fridge behind the couch.” GZ had always been hospitable, “just grab me one while your back there.”

Grey reached behind the couch, opened the fridge, and grabbed four beers. He handed one to the shoe, one to the GZ, and kept two for himself.

“Shiiiit,” the GZ said laughing, “It’s good to see that you haven’t changed too much Grey.”

“You know how it is man; the more things change the more they stay the same.” Grey said, and then proceeded to kill an entire beer in one breath. When he was finished he exhaled in satisfaction, belched, and opened his second beer. “Thanks bro, I needed that.”

Shoeless had begun to sniff frequently, a sign that he was not an experienced drug abuser. Most coke heads eventually learn to stifle the urge to sniff every five seconds.

“So, are you ready to see your old girl,” GZ asked, “You’ve been here about ten minutes and I can tell that you cant wait to ask about her.”

“She was never my girl man.” Grey replied, annoyed that the GZ had so easily seen through him, despite his efforts to disguise his excitement.

“Well either way, she’s waiting for us down at the Green Tree, so finish up that beer. I told her we’d be there by eight.”

Grey could hardly believe that it had been this easy. He was actually about to see Sam for the first time in ten years. Hey quickly stood, finishing his beer, and was followed by Shoeless and the GZ.

“Hey, it’s Shoeless, right?” The GZ asked as he stood.

“Yeah man, that’s right, even though today I’m wearing shoes.” The rail the shoe had done a few minutes ago was clearly loosening him up.

“Right,” the GZ said with a slow smile, “Well do mind if I get a second with Grey before we head out?”

“That’s cool man,” the Shoe relied happy to oblige, “I’ll just be waiting in the car Grey.”

“Cool man,” Grey answered, turning a suspicious gaze towards the GZ. He was about to find out what Gerald really wanted from him, at least in part. The prospect no longer mattered much to Grey. He was about to see Sam, and was therefore not interested in indulging the GZ in any way.

“Aright bro,” said Grey, “Shoeless is upstairs, so hurry up and tell me what it is that you want so I can say no.”

“Why you gotta be like that Grey, Don’t forget man, I know you. I’ve seen you work brother, so you can cut the holier than fucking thou act anytime.”

“Whatever man, just say what you’ve got to say.” Grey knew that the GZ would pressure him for what he wanted and was prepared for a fight.

“Aright man, if that’s the way you fucking want it then lets just get down to it. But just so you know, this ain’t about what I want from you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Grey asked. The GZ went on ignoring the question.

“When was the last time you talked to Jacob?” Silence filled the dungeon as the two stood glaring at each other through the tension.

“You know when,” Grey finally answered. “Will you quite bullshitting G. Just tell me what the fuck you want.

“I already told you man,” the GZ said slowly, “it’s not what I want, it’s what she wants.” Grey could feel his face pale as he began to realize exactly what the GZ was inferring.

“Who?” he asked in a voice that was scarcely a whisper.

“Who!” The GZ said mockingly, “What the fuck man, you a fucking owl now? You know goddamn well who. Now get your shit together, we’re late.”
© Copyright 2009 Grey Daze (redlegs at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1514151-Grey-4