Temptation

Brandi clasped the phone to her ear with her left hand. Bbrrriiiinnnnngg. The fingers of her right hand were busy fastening and unfastening a single button on her shirt. Her left leg bounced unnoticed. Bbrrriiiinnnnngg.

Answer the damn phone, she thought, ready to give up on the whole thing and go find Frankie. Bbrrriii - "Hello?"

"Jesus, Annie, it took you long enough to answer the phone! Aren't you supposed to be on top of this shit?" Brandi stood and started pacing, her fingers still working on that button.

"Wow. Someone's moody tonight. What's goin' on, baby girl?"

"Ugh. Don't call me that. It makes me feel like a kid, and if you grew up like I did, you wouldn't wish that on anyone."

The line was silent for a moment. "Why'd you call?" Annie always got right to the point when Brandi was like this. Intuition or something.

"I've got it bad, A. I heard Frankie's got a brick he's looking to unload, and there's a wad of cash burning a hole in my pocket."

"But you called me. I'm proud of you for that."

"I'm no one to be proud of right now. I still haven't really made up my mind. Haven't felt this itchy in weeks. Not since my last relapse." The button got a momentary reprieve as Brandi raked her hands through a mane of greasy brown hair.

"This too shall pass, Brandi. Let it pass." Annie's voice was low and steady.

"I don't need cliches right now. I need help!"

"How do you want me to help you exactly? I can't keep the heroin outta your hands. I'm just your sponsor, not you and certainly not God."

"I know." Brandi whispered as tears started to fall. "I just don't trust myself right now, Annie. I don't know how I'm gonna get through this."

"The same way you've gotten through it for the last eighteen days. One hour at a time. And one minute at a time if that doesn't work. Heck, since we've been talkin' you've passed that minute mark six times already."

"I should just cut up all my money. I won't be tempted to buy from Frankie if I don't have any money."

"Don't be a fool, girl!" Annie never yelled, but Brandi could tell when she meant business. "And keep those scissors where they are. You know that won't do you no good. You'll just end up doin' somethin' else to get your fix and feelin' even worse about it tomorrow."

Brandi barked out a laugh. "You're right. Whorin' for heroin. I should put that on a business card."

"Don't go puttin' yourself down for stuff that's done and over with. The past is the past, and it doesn't need to be your future."

Brandi sucked in a breath. "I know you're right. I just can't stop kicking myself for the stupid decisions I've made. I should never have let Frankie talk me into trying the stuff in the first place."

"Shoulda, coulda, woulda. You got no business thinkin' about what you should or shouldn't a done. The only thing you need to think about is what you're gonna do right now."

"I hear you, A. I know it. I think I'm just gonna go to bed. I can't shoot up while I sleep."

"If that'll get you through the night, I'm all for it. Just call me in the mornin', and we'll go to a meeting."

"Okay, Annie. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Brandi ended the call and set her cell on the counter next to the sink. She stared at the lone stamp bag in her hand.

One of Frankie's boys - Bruno or Billy or something like that - had slipped this into her lap while she was at the laundromat today waiting for her clothes to dry. A good faith sample, he had said before melting back into the crowd of hustlers and tricks that made up Kenmont Street. Here now in her bathroom, Brandi's fingers gently traced the edges of the paper, and she inhaled the faint odor of vinegar and antiseptic like she'd been drowning, and it was her first breath of air. Inhale, exhale, repeat.

She wasn't sure how long she stood like that, but when she looked up, her reflection took her by surprise. Brandi saw a woman there, one who vaguely resembled her and whose flat eyes stared listlessly back from the mirror. The tourniquet was already wrapped around her bicep, and the foil, spoon, lighter, and syringe were all laid out as if on a surgeon's instrument tray, ready for use. Brandi held no illusions that this time would be the last time. She'd found herself in this position too many times to believe that lie again. She held the bag up between her thumb and forefinger, prepared to open it. Don't be a fool, girl! Annie's voice reverberated in her head. Without thinking, Brandi tossed the bag into the toilet bowl and flushed.

Regret hit her instantly, and she tried to fish the bag out of the water as it swirled around the bowl. It eluded her grasp, however, and she watched with horror as it was sucked down into the pipes. Brandi collapsed onto the floor, shocked by her behavior and grieving for this lost opportunity. Again, she heard her sponsor's voice calling out to her. This too shall pass. Anger and shame filled her then, fighting an internal battle for dominance.

Shame won out, and Brandi began to cry again. Shaking, she picked up her phone and called Annie. Her sponsor was silent as Brandi confessed her sins and begged for forgiveness. When she was done, Brandi held her breath and waited.

Annie only had one thing to say. "Congratulations, Brandi. You've been clean for another thirty-nine minutes. How are you going to get through the next minute?"


Word Count: 979