100TWC - Day 94: Reality

The rain bucketed down like an impenetrable curtain, bouncing thigh-high off the saturated pavements. Jez had never seen rain like it. He stood under a railway arch and waited, without much hope that it would let up any time soon.

Any ordinary guy would never venture out in weather like this. A few inches further forward and he would be drenched to the skin in seconds. But Jez was no ordinary guy. He had a need.

He'd known it was coming, of course. He always knew. The first few hints of the gnawing had started in his gut earlier that afternoon. If he'd had more sense he would have come out then, when the last rays of afternoon sun glinted red and gold off the dust-grimed windows of the derelict warehouse district. The only time they ever really looked beautiful. At least, when he had his straight head on. With his smashed head, pretty much everything looked beautiful, even his dingy, rat-infested squat with its mould-stained mattress.

But as usual, he hadn't had more sense. He'd stayed in front of his blurry old portable TV until the red had bled out of the windows and the black had come. And with it, the rain. From inside the squat the rain had been welcome. It freshened the stale air, washed his window, and took away some of the heat. Its familiar sound against the sill was comforting. By the time it started beating a heavier rhythm on the roof, the complaints from his gut had also become louder, driving him out into the night in search of a fix.

Luckily his usual dealer Max was a man of habit. Tuesday was his railway arch day. Jez knew he might have to hang around for an hour or so, but Max would be there. Sooner or later. Jez didn't need to brave the weather. Max would do that part. Max the bringer of light. The seller of dreams. The owner of his soul.

He checked his pockets. His pitiful wad of cash was still there. A handful of greasy notes gleaned from begging, or borrowed from the few friends he had left. Well, the friend, singular. Everyone else had given up on him and left him to spin down the downward spiral they all believed he was on. Like rainwater gurgling down the drain beside him, only not as clean.

From the corner of his eye he caught a movement through the downpour. Collar turned up against the drenching rain and an old oilskin hat pulled down low over his eyes, Max crossed the road in front of him. It had to be Max, even though Jex could not make out the man's face. No-one else would be here in this and besides, no-one ran quite like Max, with that half-loping jog that he had to use on account of an old wound from Iraq.

"Max!" Jez called. "Over here!"
"I see you, you mad bastard," Max replied over the deafening clatter of the rain. "Wasn't sure if you'd be here today. You're lucky I decided you were worth a soaking."
"Yeah, thanks man. I really need it today."
"You really need it every day buddy," Max grinned, pulling off his hat once he attained the shelter of the arch. Raindrops covered his beard, standing out like jewels. They flashed with reflected colours from the few neon shop signs still working.
"Well? What have you got?" Jez asked, holding his arms folded across his aching guts. "Better be something good. I've got the aches real bad."
"Got the usual stuff," Max said flippantly. "But I got my hands on something new too. One or two of my regulars have tried it. Reckon it's the bomb."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
Max took a small brown drug bottle from the pocket of his raincoat and held it up in front of Jez's face. The contents remained anonymous behind the dark ochre plastic.
"They call it Reality," he said. "Wanna try some?"
"How much?"
"Well, you know, it's a bit steeper than your regular stuff. It's new, what can I say? Gotta cover my overheads?"
"How much!?"
"To you, seein' as you're a regular an' all... fifty bucks."
"Fifty? You have to be kidding. It would need to be a fuckin' big hit for fifty. And anyway," Jez went on, fingering the small wad in his pocket, "I ain't got fifty."
"How much you got?"
"Twenty. Twenty five maybe, in change."
"Look, this stuff is real good. I'll stand you the other twenty-five for now. Like I said, you're a regular. I know you're good for it."
He flipped the lid off the bottle and shook a red capsule into the palm of his hand.
"This little red pill will blow your mind," he said, smiling.
"Looks like something out of The Matrix," Jez joked nervously.
"Well buddy, they don't call it Reality for nothing."