Miracles

Chapter 40 - Miracles

This is a full chapter from my novel in progress, entited "broke'n" . After writing it I thought that it could almost stand on its own as a short story, and so am sending it in. As the reader will obviously not be reading the rest of it at this time it is important to note that the central character "Zap" (Romy Zapata), a young and attractive gypsy (romany) coke dealer with a live for today attitude, is good friends with Monika & Weasel two of the central characters in broke'n. Thus when Weasel says, "“Well. I know one thing for sure”, he said. “It sure as hell ain’t anyone we know.”, there is a certain irony that would otherwise be lost. Weasel is incidentally the Weasel of "Weasel's Addiction", just as Monika is of "Monika & Candy's Reunion". It is an amazing project and yes,  is my world at the present time. Anyway read and enjoy.This story is one of three miracles. The first two are obvious. The third...well look for it.


He could hear pounding in his sleep, and at first blearily thought he was on the construction site with his dad and older brother…he had done that through the summer a few years back. The pounding continued as he began to awake. Suddenly there was a huge crash, and shouts of “We got it!”

This brought him to consciousness, and he opened his eyes to see of all things a cop looking down at him. For once however the cop didn’t look angry or confrontational. In fact he looked very worried.

“Sir, can you hear me”, the cop asked. He must still be dreaming. A cop was calling him Sir!

“Yes”, he answered slowly.

The cop began to speak on his radio. “Yes we made it in and there is one individual here. Caucasian male, early 20’s seems to have been here about six hours unconscious. He is starting to come around, and the ambulance is en route. We have no idea yet as to the cause of this”

“Can you get up”, asked the cop again in a sympathetic tone. This was so strange.

Just as Zap was slowly trying to move into a sitting position, the paramedics came flying into the room. In seconds he was gently lifted onto the waiting stretcher for the trip to hospital.

“I think we’ve got it from here officer”, said the female paramedic. Just as she spoke the cop noticed the discarded syringe and spoon lying on the floor where Romy’s body had been.

Zap could hear him speaking. “Yes, I’ve just bagged some drug paraphernalia; it seems to be a possible overdose. Yes Sir, we’ll follow him to the hospital. I don’t a have an ID on him yet, but I’ll get that shortly.” Suddenly the cop was sounding like a regular fuck face cop and not a Dr. The dream was definitely over.

Overdose…he thought about it slowly and with confusion. He’d had another overdose. And then it all began to make sense. He remembered bits and pieces of what had happened. He knew he had planned to take a plane, but couldn’t remember where. He was at the airport. Oh shit….shit shit! Shit! That fuckin shot! Why had he had to have just one more? If he would have just waited a few hours he would have been home free! He would have been in …..That was it! Jamaica! Inwardly he groaned. What a fuck up!

Due to the small size of the bathroom, the other cop was waiting outside it. Out of the corner of his eye, Zap could see them, and while they been  pleasant enough up untill now, the discovery of the shit was bad news. He was still very confused about everything, but his instinct for self preservation was staring to kick in fast.  He remembered with a start just what was up his ass. If that was found god knows just what kind of charges might result. And his ticket to Jamaica wouldn’t help him that was for sure. If he could just vanish now….

“I feel better”, he said to the paramedics, as they put him into the ambulance. “Don’t wanna go.”

“Oh you’re going”, she said calmly, as she checked his pulse again with a gloved hand. “It’s hard to say what complications could result from this. Do you remember what drugs you took; or how much?”

“Drugs?” he answered, confused but at least remembering denial. “I don’t do drugs.”

She smiled at him gently as she was used to this type of thing. “There’s no point in lying to us Sir. We found your needle and so forth. We know you are an IV drug user. Now do you remember what you took? If you can it could help us take better care of you. Try to think.”

He realized that she was right. “Coke”, he said. “I did some coke. About a half gram.”
He breathed in heavily exhausted from the effort of speaking. He felt very weak, and realized that even if he tried he couldn’t physically run away now.

“Thank-you”, she said. “That makes our job a lot easier.”

As they wheeled him in to the hospital, and found him a room in the ER, he began to really come to and noted how quickly paramedics always moved. This must be his third or forth OD. Shit one of these days he wasn’t gonna come back.

They left, as quickly as they had come, and were replaced by a nurse. She smiled at him. He was a nice looking boy. It was a good thing they’d found him in time.

“Hello”, she said.” I’m going to be you’re nurse. My name is Nurse Harrison. Are you in any pain? I just have to hook you up to the monitors so that we can check your heart. I hear you were unconscious a long time.”

“Yeah”, he answered weakly. Despite his condition he noticed that she was pretty and nice. That was good. Sometimes nurses could be mean, especially to OD’s. They acted as if you were stupid and evil to have overdosed.

“Can I have some water?” he asked.

“No problem”, she answered. “As soon as I finish this I’ll get you some and a few magazines for when you feel a little better. You’ll be here for at least three hours.”

He didn’t respond then, but when she returned and he’d had time to think he questioned this. “Why do I need to stay here so long?” he asked.” I feel better. I think I’m OK now.”

“You’re heart is very weak right now. You could a heart attack at any time, and we really need to keep you hooked up for a while. It’s for your own good, so don’t worry. The Dr. will be in to see you in a few minutes.”

That was right, he’d forgotten about the heart thing with coke. OD’s were funny like that as once they were over it was easy to forget specifics.

With that she was gone, and just as she said in about twenty minutes the Dr appeared. “So”, he said.” I can see from your chart that this isn’t your first time to be in this condition. If you want to stay alive you really need to think about what you’re doing. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, and you won’t win forever. Remember you are only 23. You’ve got a lot of years left if you just change your ways. This should scare you.”

Weirdly Zap wasn’t scared. OD’s, just like crazy cokeheads, cops, and killings were just another part of the drug world. And he had chosen this life. Maybe the Dr. didn’t know,  but the life expectancy of drug dealers is a lot shorter then that of the average person. Zap had never expected to see 30, and lately he’d been doubting if he’d see 25.

“The thing is”, the Dr. continued looking straight at Zap, “You are very very lucky to be alive. You were unconscious for about six hours, and you could so very easily have died. I hope you realize just how fortunate you are. You’re survival is nothing short of a miracle.”

“Yeah, I am”, answered Zap. “I know. And I am very grateful to everyone that’s helped me with this……”

Just as he spoke there was a knock on the door.  It was a cop. Suddenly the danger he was in all came back with the force of a kick to the groin. This was not good. He could see them talking just outside the door, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. The Dr was nodding as the cop spoke, and then he raised his hand in farewell as the cop left. Zap didn’t need to hear the conversation to know what was being said. He was going to be given medical treatment just like anyone else, and then the police were going to take over. They must have gotten his full name from the hospital and once they had seen his record of drug arrests for both possession and dealing, it was very likely that they would arrest him on suspicion, which would give them the legal right to search his person. Once they found the $60,000.00 it was only a matter of time until they would do a through strip search, and find the coke. Even if he got rid of the coke (which he didn’t want to do – It was after all worth about $1500.00, and it was all he had left for personal) he was likely to lose his cash, and he wouldn’t put it past them to just plant a little coke on him…. Oh this was so not good. As he lay there he pondered his options.

Sergeant Bethany was worried, very worried. As she sat in the office of the east Weston branch of the Salvation Army she added the numbers again, and came up with the same answer. They were in very bad financial trouble. Too many years of giving out with not enough money coming in was taking a toll. After all they did have expenses like anyone else. There was a mortgage on this very building, and even though the bank was extremely sympathetic to their plight, even the Salvation Army had to pay its bills at some point. They were running several important programs in this area. They had a short term shelter for abused women and their children, a food program, a fuel program to assist with home heating and had recently started up a local Salvation Army Adult Rehabilitation Center to enable ex-cons with addictions and other serious problems to re-enter society.

And this was just the programming. They were also a church like any other with needs accordingly. There were worship services held regularly, and even these had expenses, though small ones. There was no other answer. It pained her greatly but something would have to go. Either that or they had a maximum of six months left before they would be forced to shut their doors. What should she cut?

As she sat there going over numbers, Captain Richards walked in. “It’s getting close to time for supper.” he said. “I’m going out for a few minutes to get a sandwich. Do you need anything?”

She looked up at him discouraged, “Well”, she said sadly, “We do need toilet tissue, but honestly at this point we can’t even really afford that. I just don’t know what to do. No matter what I decide someone is going to suffer. But I have to make cuts, or….”

“Or what?” he asked. “Is it really that bad?”

“Or we’ll have to shut down. It’s not “that bad” its even worse then we thought. The thrift shop isn’t even breaking even anymore; we’re giving too much away. But how do you say “no” to someone who needs new shoes and has no money? If we turn them away they’ll be forced to steal. And if they do that sooner or later they will be caught, and get back into the legal system, which will cause more trouble for everyone! I don’t know! And donations are way down. People just can’t afford to give. I really don’t know what we’re going to do.” She sat with her head resting on both hands, feeling deeply depressed about the situation. She had dedicated her life to helping those less fortunate, and now her decision would be the one to hurt those very people.

“Well”, he said awkwardly, “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ll be back soon though; maybe I can help you to decide what to cut.”

She nodded sadly as he closed the door.

Zap was done thinking. There was only one sensible answer. He was going to have to escape. It wasn’t going to be easy, doubtless there was a cop keeping an eye on his door. But he had to try. If he just stayed here and waited for the inevitable by suppertime he was very likely to be on his way back to Barton jail on remand. After all there was still the matter of Dave, the bikers and the cops. What a mess. He was just praying at this point that the cops weren’t looking for him based on the evidence in Dave’s room. He felt in his pockets. He still had the money, all of it- $60,000.00 less the small amount he’d spent on his plane ticket and incidentals. Naturally that much money was hard to just shove in a pocket, so he’d worn cargo pants. Not his style really, but they did the job of keeping his cash close at hand.

He also had, in his other pocket his wallet. His ID was all there; and in a hidden pocket so was his alternate identity of “Chris Hodges” who ever that poor dead sucker was. The only other thing he needed was his shoes, which he had noticed on the floor not far from the bed. As for his coat he had no idea, but it didn’t matter. He could afford a new one if he could just get out of here safely. What he was going to have to do was get his shoes on, and wait by the door until he saw an opportunity for escape. Surely there would be a chance. Maybe he was just paranoid, and the cops weren’t guarding his room.

As he slowly and carefully slid out of bed, and found his shoes he listened intently for any sound of people coming near. It was silent. He walked noiselessly over to the door, and his heart sank when he saw, just as he had thought a uniformed officer sitting down the hallway three rooms down on a folding chair. He looked bored, as he had likely been there a while. How to get out? Any movement from his doorway would bring the cop, and he’d be even more screwed then he was now, as they’d realize he had a motive to escape. As he stood there waiting and hoping for a chance at freedom it came to him. God would help. God, as he experienced him was not quite the same as the God that William worshipped every Sunday in the Anglican Church. But God was someone to pray to in time of need. Zap was sure that a force greater then that of humanity was in charge. As is common among both gypsies and drug dealers he was also very superstitious, and believed in curses, ghosts and suchlike. As he stood there he made a deal with God. “Dear God”, he thought. “If you can just get me out of this mess safely, I will…” He thought about it for a second or two. What on earth could he promise to do that would be enough for God to do something this big? What did he have to offer? And then it came to him-he had money - lots of money. And money could be used for both good and evil. If he gave to good for a change…..

“Dear God”, he thought clearly now, “If you will help me and get me out to safety I will donate $10,000.00 to the Salvation Army.” He thought for a moment. That wasn’t enough. “$30,000.00”, he thought. “I will give half of my money to the Salvation Army to help people like me who aren’t doin so good, people who have been to jail, people who have no home, people who suffer from addiction.” At the moment Zap was riding high, but he had experienced the lifestyle of Weasel and the others not so long ago. He knew just how hard that world could be on people. There was no better cause for him. It was done. If God would help him now, he was sworn to help God later.

And just as this was decided he heard a voice.

“Excuse me Officer…I know you’re on duty, but could you take just a second to help me move this. There’s no one else to assist me, and it needs to be moved into that room right now for a patient in an ambulance thats on the way.”

The officer, a gentleman at heart decided that just for a moment he could. But first he needed to check on Zap. “Yes I can”, he said. “But I need to do something first.”

In seconds Zap was again on the bed, looking weak, and asleep. He was no risk at the moment, the cop could see that. There was no reason to make a pretty little thing like that break her back trying move one of those heavy beds alone. He walked back down the hall, and around the corner. As he did, Zap was gone. In literally seconds he was out of that hallway and into the next. He had to slow down now to avoid suspicion. As always he walked as if he was in authority and had every right to be there. No one even noticed him as far as he could tell. For all they knew he was coming in to see a relative in the ER.

As quickly as possible he found the stairs and made his way to the basement. If he could just get down to where things were quiet, he’d have a real chance to get away. Even though he was doing well he didn’t feel safe yet. Not by a long shot.

As he walked through the silent halls, where only maintenance employees usually were, he saw a large room on his right with lockers. This was the one thing he would stop for. His biggest problem once he got outside was going to be his clothes. Quite likely even now his description was on the police radio. “Young tan skinned Caucasian male last seen wearing beige cargo pants, a blue, orange and pink patterned shirt, and brown slip on shoes.” He could hear it now. He wished for once that he wasn’t such a flashy dresser. He was sure to stand out. Any clothes at all would be better then what he was wearing. But how to get into a locker? He had no time to waste, and couldn’t afford to be seen by anyone.

As he walked into the room he knew that God was indeed with him. Sitting on a bench, likely left to dry out was a large pair of men’s pale blue Levis and a grey non- descript hoodie. He couldn’t have asked for anything better. The pants were quite a bit too large, about 4 sizes in fact but never mind. Quickly, not bothering to change at this point he grabbed the clothes, a stray grocery bag, and was gone.

In a nearby alley he quickly swiched outfits. He would not feel safe until this was done. First he took off the island bright shirt-that was a real liability! And then he changed his pants. He bundled his own things into the grocery bag, and double checking that his pants pockets still held his money set out. The hard part was over, and he was starting to feel hopeful. “Thank–you God for what you have done so far. I just need a tiny bit more help and I will be safe.” he said under his breath.

Taking care to stay unobtrusive, he walked quickly but steadily down the road. All he needed now was a taxi.  He was just debating calling one, when God did the final favor.

Shortly he was back at Mejab’s door, the last place he had expected to be for years when he had left a few hours earlier. He knocked impatiently. It was still possible, even at this point for him to be caught. He was glad that he had asked Mejab to put a tarp over his car.

“I’m coming, I’m coming”, he could hear his cousin getting to the door.

“What in the name of God are you doing back here!” exclaimed a shocked Mejab. He had not expected to see Zap again for years, if ever.

“I can’t talk out here, lemmie in”, said Zap quickly as he pushed past Mejab.

As he sat in the overstuffed recliner, comfortable and relaxed for the first time in what felt like years, he told his story. Mejab listened incredulously to the tale of triumph over death, hospital escape, and the power of a loving God.

“So, you see”, said Zap as he ended his story with getting to Mejab’s door. “I have had a very lucky day, even if I did miss that dam plane!

“I’d say”, agreed Mejab, “Do you want some soup? I was just getting dinner.”

“Sure”, said Zap happily. There was really nothing he wanted more at this point then a bowl of Mejab’s hot and spicy homemade soup. As he sat eating happily and relishing his situation, he suddenly remembered.

“Mejab”, he said urgently. ”There’s something I have to do. It can’t wait”. He stood up, and went over to the bag with his clothes. “I have to give some money to the Salvation Army”, he explained. “I promised.”

“Who did you promise it too?” asked Zap puzzled by the turn of events.

“God”, said Zap softly. “I told God that if he would protect me and keep me safe I would make a donation. There is one nearby isn’t there?”

“I think so”, said Mejab.

“It has to help people like addicts, ex-cons, homeless people you know”, he explained. “I promised that too.”

“Well”, said Mejab, “There was something about that in the paper a little while ago…an adult rehabilitation centre or something…”

“Do you remember where”, asked Zap.

“Not really, but it was in Weston… wait,  just let me look it up”, said Mejab.

In moments thanks to Google he had it. “It’s the East Side Weston branch. Over on Lockheart Avenue. How much are you giving them anyway? A few grand?”

“You could say that”, said Zap slowly, realizing the enormity of his promise. It was a lot of money-a bit over half of what he had left. But he had promised, and without a doubt God had been there for him. How else could he explain the clothing just sitting there, or the nurse needing help?  It had been a true miracle, just as much as his survival had been.

“I’m giving them $30,000.00.” he said.

Mejab stood there with his mouth half open, obviously in shock. Finally he spoke. “Are completely crazy?” he said. “If you give them that much you’re going to have to build back up again…not a good idea in you’re situation.”

“Maybe not”, agreed Zap, “But I made a vow- a solemn and serious vow to God. I can’t break it.”

“But you can’t give away that much money!” protested Mejab. “Sleep on it. I think you’re still messed up from the OD.”

“Mejab you know I’m right. To break a vow like that would be to invite disaster and tragedy into this house. A hex greater then any other would follow both you and I for the rest of our lives.”

“Why me?” he asked puzzled by this logic.

“Because”, said Zap patiently, “It would be your idea to break the vow. That makes you guilty as well.”

“Ok….” Ever superstitious Mejab was not prepared to take a chance of this magnitude. The forces that watch over us all would indeed be very angered by this. God had done his part. Now Zap must.

As Mejab walked to the door with the envelope, as for Zap to would be sheer insanity, he said. “Remember, you MUST do this. No funny business. I will know if you do, and so will he. And remember do just what I said, they don’t need to see too much of you either.”

Monika lay on the large comfortable bed in the Delta Weston. She was comfy and relaxed, but couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this time tomorrow they would all be back in Auburn and the usual shit would start all over again. Of course she still had some cash left; but not much. Between the shopping spree and her share of the hotel and restaurant costs she had a mere $200.00 or so left of the $2000.00 she’d had only a few days earlier. It really sucked. Oh well, at least she still had enough pills to last for quite a while, and that was her main expense. She had the news on the TV, as between the murder that had happened the previous night and the coverage of their score it seemed like a plan to stay on top of things.

“And now.” said the newscaster, “some good news for a change! An anonymous donor has made a very timely donation to the east side Weston Salvation Army Branch! Our Kathleen Gibbons spoke with Sergeant Bethany Muise about this earlier today”

Sgt. Bethany stood just outside the door of the office as she spoke to the reporter. She looked very emotional, and it was obvious that this had all been quite a shock.

“It was so strange”, explained Sgt. Bethany. “I was working on the accounts for our branch and things weren’t going well. I knew that unless we wanted to close our doors we were going to be forced to eliminate one or more of the many valuable programs we run. This naturally was causing me a great deal of mental anguish and indecision as I knew that whatever choice I made someone would lose. There was a knock on the door, and as usual I went to answer it, as I thought that someone was in need of help.”

“And who was at the door?” asked Ms. Gibbons.

“It was a small man who I had never seen before. He looked a bit Arabic. He was holding a large brown paper envelope, and as soon as he saw that I was indeed an army officer he handed it to me.”

“Did he say anything to you, or give you any indication as to what was in the envelope?” Ms. Gibbons asked.

“This was the strange thing; He hardly spoke at all. All he said was “Use this well.” When he said that I looked down at the envelope, wondering what exactly was inside, and when I raised my eyes again, he was at the corner and then disappeared from sight. I would have liked to speak with him more, but it seems he didn’t want to.”

“So what happened next”, prompted the reporter.

“I went in and opened the envelope, expecting to find a small donation. When I saw that it was stuffed full of cash I was completely shocked. I literally could not believe my eyes. Once I realized that this was indeed real money, I was overcome with joy and gave a prayer of thanks to God for only he could have been behind this miracle.This donation of $30,000.00 could not have come at a better time. We have recently opened an adult rehabilitation centre in this area, and while the work we do there is invaluable, it does cost quite a bit to keep it running. It’s a residential program to enable ex-cons with addictions and other serious issues to re-enter society. When people go through this program their chances of re offending are much smaller, and everybody wins. Crime is lower, the city is safer, and most importantly people get a chance to go on with their lives, as for so many prison is nothing but a revolving door with no way out. Coincidentally, the only request that the donor made in the note enclosed with the money was that a good portion of it should go toward just this type of program.”

Sgt Bethany continued, “As soon as I realized the magnitude of this amazing act of generosity I called the media as I felt compelled to let whoever was responsible for this know just how much good they have done by their selfless act. She looked directly at the camera, "Thanks to you; the women’s shelter will stay open, the food bank will keep going, and above all our adult rehab program will grow and prosper. For a gift like that to arrive now, when I was truly at my lowest ebb is nothing short of a miracle.”

“Did you see that?” asked Monika, “Some crazy person just donated $30,000 to the salvation army...That is so nuts! Who the hell would have that kind of money to just give away?”

Weasel sat cigarette in hand watching it all from his spot on the other bed. What a wild story! “Well. I know one thing for sure”, he said. “It sure as hell ain’t anyone we know.”

Zap was happy now. For a short time he’d panicked about the idea of giving that much money away, but he had known he must. He had realized that to receive the help he had and then refuse to pay up would be simply unforgivable. With death always within sight he believed in God far more then many would ever guess.  He had been watching the news, and wasn’t entirely surprised to see that the media had the story. Now, now if he should check out early as he half expected to he could at least die knowing that he’d done one good thing. Not that one act of charity would make up for the two people he’d had to kill, the various thefts he’d committed over the years, or the huge amounts of damage he knew he had done to so many with his coke business. It couldn’t. It did however make him feel really good to know that that money, the cash paid for that coke was actually going to do something good.

For years he’d been telling everyone that he wasn’t gonna see twenty-five, and sure as hell not thirty. Now however he was questioning this a bit. Did he really want to die so soon? And if he didn’t was there any way out now? He wondered to himself...was there a more personal reason behind his decision to target the Adult Rehabilation Program? Maybe, just maybe he should think about quitting while he was ahead. No, this wasn't the time for any more big decisions-he did need to let the dust settle a bit after all that had happened today. He wasn’t about to make any more vows to anyone but it was nice feeling like this though, and the simple comforts of soup, an over-stuffed chair and family were tonight more then enough.