A night of poor decisions unnecessary risks and love

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Quiet On The Set

Roll Sound

Camera Ready

Action...

We had just scored eighty bucks in crack from the black dudes in the Sugar Hill neighborhood. The car I'm driving burns oil and produces a trail of gray smoke still visible at night. Adding to the car's unique characteristics, the license plates are stolen from an abandoned car in South Tucson and on top of it, they're expired. There's no title for the car so no registration and I have no idea who's name is on the vehicle's title. I got the car from a guy named Darrell, Daniel maybe Damien or David not sure, it was during my Heroin period. I don't remember much from those days. I do recall we had scored some, what was advertised as China White and said to be twice as potent as the dope sold on the street at that time. We headed to a room he had at Motel 6 in the Pontiac. He OD'd right in front of me never said a word. I checked on his condition and he was definitely dead. So I went through his pockets and found the keys as well as some cash. I got the hell outta there. They'd find his body soon enough and he no longer needed the car or the cash.

That's not even the Bingo, my driver's license has been suspended for over two years with outstanding warrants for my sorry ass. I don't have any type of identification whatsoever. Yet, here I am at 1:00 in the morning scoring drugs with a prostitute and an ex-convict still on parole as my passengers. I've failed to mention one detail, the brake lights don't work. Everyday I say I'll fix them but somehow it just never gets done. It's only a couple miles of Tucson neighborhood back streets to navigate until we reach our room at the Paradise Motel on South Sixth Avenue.

"Hey Messiah, get me a beer will ya? Do you want one Santi?" Selma asks.

" What the fuck is wrong with you? Don't want to get stopped for open alcohol in the car! Damn you're just inviting the Cops to bust our asses."

" Sorry, I figured it would calm you down some. You look all uptight."

" And drinking a beer in the car would just add to my stress level."

" So is it okay if I do a hit real quick like? I'll hold it down out of sight. I promise."

" Then Messiah will want a hit."

"She does one so do I." Messiah hollers.

"Five minutes later you'll want another, flicking the goddamn lighter. Even a Rookie cop knows what that signifies."

"You know what you are? Do you know? Huh?"

"This ought to be good. No, tell me. Better pick your words wisely, it's a long walk back to the motel."

" You ain't scaring me. You're not the director of this movie, Ass Clown!"

"That's a street name for Santi. " Director" Selma, it's perfect! "Director, it fits your personality." Messiah screams from the back seat.

" Just fine, I can live with that name. I thought for a second you meant "Ass Clown" for my street name."

Selma interrupts. "That's what I think is a perfect name for you"!

I prefer Director and now I'm about to direct your ass to get the fuck out of the car and walk. You're really pissing me off Selma."

" What's wrong with you, Director? Why can't you lighten up, relax and have some fun?" Messiah preaches.

" Why? Did you just ask me why I can't lighten up? I'll tell you why! Because I have to babysit you two all the fucking time. Both of you don't have any type of safety filter. You just go about your lives doing what you want to do, without any concern for the consequences of your actions. Just think about it for a minute. How many times have I saved both of your lame asses in the past two weeks? I can think of seven maybe eight times. Do either of you try to change your inane witless actions? Hell no! You both act with a blatant disregard for simple social standards of conduct. What's even more incredibly amazing is you're clueless , you have no idea of the level of stupidity you demonstrate."

" Are you done putting us down? You're treating us like some kind of lowlife street trash."

" Sorry you see it that way Messiah. This reckoning is long overdue. I've tried to make you aware of this personality defect

for a while. Neither of you would pay any attention to my pleas. You went on ignoring my advice. Maybe this is the only way to get through to you guys. And I apologize if your feelings were hurt. I'm not purposely being disrespectful, if I didn't love the both of you I wouldn't take the time to even mention this shit."

" Love us? So what's this then, your idea of tough love? Or are you practicing some kind of radical new therapy you read about in one of your books? Let me tell you this Director, you can't control what everyone in the whole world does. Life isn't a movie, so you can shove your bullshit advice up your ass. Stop the car, I wanna get out now! Don't want you to have to be responsible for me no more. I'm taking two rocks with me, I put in twenty bucks." Selma screams.

" Ya me too Director, hand over two rocks." Messiah demands.

I stop, give them the crack and put the car in gear.

" Ain't ya gonna stop us? Tell us to get back in the car." Selma asks.

"Hey Messiah grab your beer in the back. Selma, I didn't tell you to get out. You both said you wanted out. I'm just doing what you requested."

" You're a limp dick son of a bitch." Selma screams at me as I drive away.

"My mother was a very nice lady!" I holler back.

I make it to the motel with my hands cramping from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

Good job ,

"Cloud Gray Smoke,'' I say while lightly patting the dashboard in a loving manner. It's a bizarre superstition I practice even though I profess not to believe in any pseudoscience. I always give my vehicle a name. It's a ritual I picked up from a Mescalero Apache during my drug running days. It creates a personal relationship, a sort of bond. I use Native American warrior names which adds a flare of mysticism. And Cloud Gray Smoke is a Pontiac, a fortunate coincidence.

I get settled in, turn on the Television, grab a beer, lay back in bed, I load my pipe and…

Of course, why would it be any different? I can't find a lighter. I check the drawers in the beat up desk and the pockets of my clothes in the closet along with the ones on the floor. The kitchenette is next but I have no luck. The small gas stove captures my attention. I turn on the burner and a large flame springs up doing a fire dance. I jump back from the flame, then turn the gas down to a smaller more practical size. I stick my aluminum crack pipe made from a car antenna into the fire but somehow miscalculate the location of the flame, ending up too close. Burning hair I believe is a smell everyone is familiar with.

Mine is burning like a dry Christmas Tree in January.

I don't panic or overreact to my blazing locks. I have my priorities, first I take a long hit from my pipe then drop it on the floor. It was so hot it burnt my fingers as well as my lips, but I got a great rush and was high. I run to the bathroom and get under the shower. The water trickles from the shower head not providing enough flow to extinguish the now four alarm hairfire. I turn the knob to switch the water from the shower to the spigot below and it gushes out. Within seconds the flames are extinguished and the pain from the burn begins to crescendo. I take a quick look in the mirror to assess the damage. The entire right side of my once bushy mane is burnt down to my red throbbing scalp. The eyebrow over my right eye is gone as well as the right side of my mustache. I can imagine the humorous inclination of this coiffure wildblaze incident but I'm unable to laugh at this particular time. I put my head back under the water and instantly the pain subsides. I return to the kitchen hoping to find some ice to apply to my burn. I turn off the burner, the flame still on. In the freezer I find a bag of ice. As I pull it out and close the door, there on top sits a blue Bic lighter. I grab it and flick it, a perfect flame appears.

A few minutes later there's a knock on the motel door. "Wonder who that could be?" I whispered.

I wait for a minute before going to the door. Then there's another knock, only this time it's more of a pounding than a knock.

" Director, come on, open the door. Quit screwing around. I know you're in there. Please?"

" Who is it?" I say with a high pitched falsetto voice.

"You know who it is. Come on, don't be an asshole Director. The night "Rent a Cop" is watching. Director please, it's Selma, open the door. I'm sorry, for being such a bitch. I think I'm about to get my period." She begs.

I open the door just a crack so I can respond to her bullshit. "You are such a fucking liar. You used that excuse last week when you punched me in the face because you thought I took your cigarettes. And you had a Hysterectomy a few years ago, so I know you don't get a period." She pushes at the door but it doesn't move an inch. I've got my foot pressed firmly against the bottom.

"Please Santiago, the guard is walking over here. Let me in. Open the door."

I give in and open the door, releasing my foot.

"Cinderella, it's well past midnight. Where in the hell have you been?"

"Go to hell! You're not funny. Well maybe a little bit. Messiah that asshole, just up and took off on me, he left with those Mexican bitches from the Meet Rack. Your old girlfriend Bianca was with them and she asked if I've seen you around.." She mentions after pushing me out of her way. Then she quickly locks the door and starts peeking out the window from behind the curtain. Damn it's not going to be one of those nights I hope. I am not fond of Tweekers. Some people get so paranoid for no reason imagining sounds and visions that don't exist. Their delusions make for poor company ruining the mood of any get together.

"Please Selma, don't start tweeking."

" I'm not tweeking. That Security Guard always stares at me all weird and shit. I think he might be some Psychopath Serial Killer."

" We could use some excitement around here. So what did you tell her?"

" What did I tell who? Sweet Jesus, what in the Hell happened to you? You get caught in a Forest fire? No, I bet you tried to light something off the stove. Baby, let me see. You're charred pretty bad on your head and face. Pull down your pants, let me check and make sure you're not burned anywhere else. Are you in a lot of pain?" Selma, now my nurse, says while filling a towel with ice and administering it to my scalp.

"Very funny with the slutty nurse routine.So what did you tell her ?"

"Tell who, what? Oh Bianca, still got a thing for her, don'tcha? You tried to light your Crack pipe on the stove, huh?" She giggles.

"Nevermind. And it's not funny. I'll trade some rock for some Oxys."

"Don't have any honey, all gone. You still got any Rock left? I know you do. You scored a four-0 and you couldn't have smoked all four in an hour. I'll give you a hummer for one. Come on honey, break out. Share with Selma."

" I'd rather have the money, your Blowjobs aren't that good."

I can see that I've really pissed her off and she's thinking about how to react. Will she respond in anger or continue negotiating?

"You've never complained before. I'm truly hurt by your shitty comment. As a matter of fact you are the only person to ever complain. And I've been peddling my ass on the streets for a long time. I'll tell you what...you can do anything you want to me. How does that sound?"

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Selma. Trying to get even for how you acted in the car earlier. But okay later, not now."

"The way I acted? What in the hell are you talking about?" She comments. "You started the goddamn Pissing Contest with your self righteous holier than thou attitude. You can be a real control freak at times. You're just lucky I love your silly ass to even take the time to discuss this shit with you." She says lovingly pressing the ice to my head.

"So what's this then, your idea of tough love or is it some kind of radical new therapy?"

We both begin laughing hysterically and amazingly I don't feel a great deal of pain from the burn on my head and face.

"The Rocka Tocka is next to the bed on the nightstand. My pipe is still on the kitchen floor I think."

"I'll take care of everything baby. Just sit back and relax. I've even got a lighter so we don't have to use the stove."

She goes to the kitchen to get more ice and my pipe.

" Can you grab me a beer please? Thanks Selma you're a Sweetheart."

There's a quiet knock at the door. I can hear voices and giggling outside.

" Who is it Director?"Selma says while running in.

"I don't know. Let me ask.

Who the fuck is there?" I scream.

"Messiah and a couple friends. Open the door, Director. I can't find my key and I've got a surprise for you." He announces.

" I don't like surprises so fuck it. Find your key then you can come in." I hollered once again.

" Do you have to yell so Goddamn loud? Stop, you're freaking me out." Selma whispers. "Just open the door and let the son of a bitch in."

"What's wrong with you? You let him in. It's the fifth time he's lost his fucking key. I'm not paying for another one."

I say as the knocking continues.

"Do you have to start that shit again? He's a grown man, he's not going to learn any kind of a lesson from you acting like a hard ass. It's too late. He grew up into an asshole." Selma giggles.

"Okay hold on, I'm coming." I yelled again.

Selma with the quickness of a rattlesnake strike, lights the pipe and takes a monster

hit. Right as I unlock and open the door.

"Ya know it's almost 3:00 in the morning and we're closed. You'll have to take your entourage to a location that accepts rude and inconsiderate folks at this late hour."

"What do you have stuck up your ass tonight? Are you still in your Director's chair?" Messiah says while pushing his way through the door.

"Look who I brought with me. It's your ex-wife." He laughs.

"So where is the fucking surprise?" I ask.

" I'm the surprise carbon, que piensas?" Bianca casually mentions still standing outside. Damn she looks so incredibly enticing. "So are you going to invite me in?"

" Of course, excuse me. I'm Santiago. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance." I say while grabbing her hand and escorting in.

"What do you mean? We lived together for over a year. You've been acquainted with me, you culo."

" Yes I know but I said the 'pleasure of your acquaintance'.

"You are such a Santihole sometimes. I wonder what it is that I see in you. What the hell! Santi what happened to you! Your head and face look burnt. Are you okay? Poor baby." She grabs my hand and pulls me into the bathroom. " Let me get a better look. Santiago you're really fried. What in the hell happened?" She says while pulling down her panties from under her black dress and begins peeing, while still holding my hand.

"So are you going to tell me? Or is it a secret?" She says in a caring tone.

Then there's a knock at the door " Hey Director, can I do a hit? Is it okay? I think this scene in your movie calls for me to get high." Messiah asks.

"Sure, but there better be enough left for me to get high? I'm not fucking Santi Claus."

Bianca finishes up and begins pushing toward the bathtub to put my head underwater.

" Here baby this will make you feel better and take away some of the pain. How did this happen? Tell me."

" I couldn't find a lighter so I…"

"You used the stove. Enough said. You're missing an eyebrow and your mustache is burnt on one side . Think you're going to have to shave it off. You're a mess mi amor.

You just can't take care of yourself. Can you?" She coos cupping her hand under the spigot, gently splashing water on my wound while rubbing my back with her other hand.

"So are you happy to see me?"

"Well Christ baby, I'm sort of dealing with a bit of a situation right at this moment. But I'm always excited to see you mija. You will forever own my hunger and a space in my heart. You're my endless sin Bianca, mi Diosa."

" Santiago you can talk my panties off with your palabras de amor. Soy muy excitado (horny) ya. Yo te quiero.( I want you) she whispers. Does everybody have to stay here in this room with you?"

" I'll tell you what. I've got quite a bankroll on me tonight. Why don't I rent another room for just you and me tonight ?"

" That would be wonderful bebe. Come on vámonos."

" Tranquilo mi amor, I've got a couple rocks and half a bottle of Vodka."

I tell the others of our plans and bid them a farewell as I dig the bottle of Vodka out of the closet. Next I grab two rocks off the nightstand and hand over a couple of remaining crumbs to Selma.

"Thanks, you Dragonslayer. Next time wear your helmet." Everyone chuckles. She gives me a hug and a kiss on my cheek while pushing me toward the door.

"Make sure you check to see if she's got a "Dick" first. You don't want to be "Trannitized" again like the night in Puerto Penasco."

" Selma tu Pinche zorra,(slut) crea me, (believe me, I have) tengo sweet pussy. Not like that stretched out vagina of yours. I'm no Transvestite, all woman, Pera (Bitch)." Bianca lifts her dress, takes my hand and sticks it inside her panties.

" What do you think bebe?" She sings in a sexy voice, then pulls my hand out of her crotch and pushes under my nose to smell.

" Must be what Heaven smells like." I say walking to the door. " Okay kids, no having fun, don't get in trouble and if trouble finds you...don't get caught. Night night."

By Judge Santiago Burdon

From: Costa Rica