Two
He felt better after the good club sandwich, and full glass of milk. Susan had gulped down the chocolate eclairs, but hadn't touched the sandwich or the milk or the bread. She hadn't said a word for the last hour, just stared at him. She had started rubbing her thighs, nervously, and had been pacing for the last ten minutes. There was a new, edgy look in her eyes.
Suddenly, she hurried over to the little bar, and pulled at the door. When it didn't open, she stared at it, then looked at him. "Danny, open it, will you. I need a drink." He told her to eat something. She answered "Fuck that, little brother. I need a drink." She shivered again, and her eyes softened. She stood, and cupped her braless breasts through the tank. "You like 'em, huh Danny. You always have, honey. C'mon, get me a drink, baby, and let's get it on. We always wanted to, didn't we? I remember your little cock getting so hard when we'd cuddle. It isn't so little anymore, Danny." She giggled, a strained, choked sort of sound. "Maybe I oughta call you big brother, from now on. C'mon, baby. It'll be great. Remember how you used to peek at me when I showered? You thought I didn't know. Fucking Bradley. I used to watch you beat off too, honey. I remember trying to get Ma to send you to the local school, so you could get laid. You never thought girls liked you. Fucking Bradley. Fucking private school."
His anger fired again. He could feel himself charging up, wanting to strike out. He closed his eyes. "Susan, sit down. Sit down."
She waited for a moment, then pleaded "C'mon, Danny, open it, please? I really need something, I mean, just a taste, that's all honey." He pushed the chair back, and as he rose, caught the edge of his knee on something under the table. He felt a surge of anger, and reached her with two long steps, grabbing her wrist, and throwing her to the bed. He stood over her, breathing hard, and her eyes were wide as she stared back at him. "Go ahead, Danny. Beat on me, then fuck me, baby. I like it rough, honey." His stomach did something strange, and he exhaled noisily, the anger leaving him as quickly as it had come.
Through his confusion, he heard a soft knock on the door. He had to change gears. Oh. The Doctor. His mind whirling, he pushed the table with the silver and food into a corner, and hurried to open the door. The lightskinned, heavy set black man standing there with a satchel in his hands stared at him. "Mr. Harcourt?"
He just nodded.
"Josh Newcome, Mr. Harcourt. Can I come in?"
He realized he must look strange, standing there, breathing hard, and mumbled "Dan Harcourt, Dr. Newcome. Forgive me for being rude. Please do come in."
The man took three long, ponderous steps, then stared at Susan, spread eagled on the bed, rubbing her thighs again, at the table littered with food in the corner, and the clothes strewn around. His gaze returned to Susan. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. Then he said "Mr. Harcourt, she probably ought to go to a hospital. She has to detox. Get the various poisons, god knows what they might be, out of her system, then some behavioral stuff. About all I can do is give her a sedative to keep her calm. She's starting to come down, now. It's always hard to tell what they'll do when this happens, but it's almost always awful."
He took a deep breath. Calm, calm. "Dr. Newcome, I want to be completely candid with you. We have a complex family situation, which unfortunately spills over to our monetary situation. Neither Susan nor I could pay for the first hour of a hospital. But your fee here will go on a credit card that has a nice high limit. She has gotten to this point quickly, she was reasonably normal a year and a half ago, and this is the first hint of problems we've had. Without imposing on your medical judgement, I would beg you to help me try to do this myself, without involving anyone else. I have good reasons for wanting to do it that way."
At that moment, Susan groaned. "Danny, Danny, I need some help, honey. Just a little help. Can this man do it, honey? Come on, honey. Be nice to Susan, okay?"
Newcome looked at him, then sighed, sat down beside the blonde, who wiggled a little, and held her arm out to him. He began examining her, seeming to pay particular attention to those red marks, and pushed up the pants to look behind her knees. It took about ten minutes, then he sat straight, and looked at Dan. Again, he seemed to be thinking. Appearing to come to a decision, he rose, picked up his bag, put it on the table beside Susan, and opened it. As he puttered around, he said "The tracks are new, relatively recent. I can't see any other signs of her using. When you found her, was she high, excited, or comatose, dreamy? Right, well, that does sound like heroin. You may be very lucky, Dan. Can I call you Dan? Here's what we can do. I'll take some blood, and get the tests run. May I assume I should take some vaginal samples too? Right, thought so. Not as rare as you might think, Dan. I'll give her a sedative, it'll last about ten hours. Help me get her undressed, Dan. You're in for a rather exciting twenty four hours."
An hour later, he was sitting in the chair, watching Susan sleep, sipping a beer. He had thought about calling Mother, but decided she probably didn't want to hear anything, assuming, as she always did, that no news was good news. His mind, now under control, reviewed the last hours. He didn't feel any shame about jacking off on her. He had been so tense, with her closeness, so overwhelmed, so excited. He remembered her revealing her own feelings as she pleaded for a drink. Wonder how true that was, he thought.
The Doctor's words, "I'll call you at seven, Dan. By then, I'll be able to confirm that it's heroin, let you know if there's any venereal disease, though you understand the Aids problem, don't you? Right. Tomorrow around noon, I'll let you know if there appears to be anything like meningitis, that sort of thing. At that point, I can give you some more pills. All they are is a barbiturate that will let her deal with the withdrawal more easily. She can have a drink tomorrow, and smoke tobacco if she wants. Theoretically, if everything is as it appears, she should be pretty well detoxed by then. Let me put some antiseptic on that hand of yours."
He thought about the lecture he was missing today. "Business Policy in a World Market." Who the fuck cared. It was downhill from here, he wasn't going to be a Baker Scholar, somehow he hadn't cared enough to make the effort the second year, though he had been good enough coming out of first year. All he had been able to think about was getting a good job, breaking free of the monetary yoke of his parents, buying that Jag in the little show room over on the South Side. He already had three fabulous offers. A flashback hit him, Susan, eighteen years old, going away to College, kissing him on the mouth in front of Bradley and Mother. Whispering "Fuck 'em, Danny, just remember me, okay." Then french kissing him wantonly.
He felt himself choking, wanting to cry. He looked again at her relaxed face, just as a frown took away the soft peacefulness. Then her whole body twitched. But she settled back down, and he gave a sigh of relief. Christ. She was gonna wake up in the middle of the night.
He took the elevator down, then walked in the sultry, late afternoon chill to the drugstore around the corner. He picked up a razor, he needed a new one anyway, and Advil. It was better than asiprin. Muscle aches, fever, nausea, you couldn't beat Advil. He grabbed a paperback, a pack of cigarettes, and at the last minute, a pack of condoms. He flushed at the idea, but kept them as he paid, with Doke's money. It hadn't been Doke who got her like this, he thought. Somebody else. Maybe one of those fags she had been with last time he saw her. He made a note to himself, in his mind, to try to worm it out of her. As he walked back, he stared down a black guy who eyed him from a corner. Until the guy sauntered away, he hadn't realized he'd stopped, wishing the guy would make a move. Wanting to hit someone.
Three
A noise woke him, and as he jolted out of a dream of making love to a faceless woman, he heard rattling around in the bathroom. He bolted, half asleep, in after her, and found her with her head under the spigot, gasping, then drinking, then gasping again. He pulled her roughly away. She turned and aimed a slap at him, water spitting out of her mouth. He caught the wrist, and held it, waiting for some semblance of awareness to return to them both.