Chapter 12

The conditions of one’s own entrapment varies by degrees, and what may seem like entrapment for one man is freedom to another. Take the man who suffers from his inability to rise above the vices of the street or the ghetto. Charlie had seen some of these people, both white and black, stumbling home drunk, sometimes from his apartment window. They were fierce when he passed them. They liked to own the public streets. They were loud. They cursed openly. They played loud music from their clunkers, as though their oppression gave them license to rattle the shop windows with their subwoofers. Perhaps Charlie also saw a bit of the criminal in them. They were intimidating to look at, and what a more reasonable man would say is that these street people—their quarters tight and their language unrefined—were somehow enslaved by their financial circumstances, their dysfunctional families, their addictions, their sexual appetites, their lack of discipline and good manners. They seemed destined to fail somehow, or they were headed towards their demise prematurely, as that’s what he remembers his teachers at the high school telling him before he graduated some twenty years ago.

But now that he had been attending meetings for his addictions and had understood that one does need some refinement, manners, courtesy, and the gifts of good language, perhaps a flawless physique, a business acumen so exact that not a penny is wasted and not a rule of efficiency broken, a properly ironed shirt and pressed pants, and a short, neat haircut and a bed that is always made, he couldn’t help but think that these people on the street were actually more liberated than he was. He, in fact, was the prisoner. There was, after all, a certain freedom that the street people of the neighborhood had that he ignored and avoided in order to reform. He thought that such character would grant him access to the things he truly wanted.

And yet the mad street people were allowed more freedom because they didn’t have any possessions at all. They didn’t have the same need to find a sense of belonging in the wider ecosystem of the town. They could do what they willed, simply because they weren’t expected to be refined or disciplined, courteous or sex-free. They had a much greater degree of freedom because of this, as though something so holy and spiritual had favored them all of a sudden. And whatever oppressions, imprisonments, and punishments that had one time or another ruled over them like an iron-fisted tyrant had now become their servant. Perhaps he had erred in thinking that the diligent, persistent, stubborn, and even methodical pursuit of a status greater than his own would lead to the liberation he sought, which is why he relied on Artie Tedesco and a new idea that flashed like lightning in the dark of his brooding that night. Instead of being content with playing it safe and responsible, he started to envy the freedoms the good Lord had suddenly given everyone else. And Charlie would try to become a criminal for a taste of that freedom—if only to take it for a spin like a customer taking a test drive. He did plan on finding his way back to responsibility, but only after a certain something, or in his case, a certain someone, could be achieved.

“Charlie? How have you been,” asked Artie Tedesco on the other end of the line.

“I’ve been good,” he said. “That was a great party the other night.”

“You were there? I guessed we missed each other.”

“I was there alright. It was a big success. All of those elegant people.”

“My parties are always a success, and do you know why? Because I work out every day and watch what I eat.”

“Thanks for that, Artie.”

“So when are you coming over?”

“To work out, you mean?”

“Yeah. What did you think I meant?”

“Listen, about that—I want to come over today, but it’s for other reasons.”

“Oh? What’s the reason?”

“It’s personal. I’d rather tell you in person.”

“Personal? Can’t you tell me over the phone?”

“Not really, no. I’d rather talk to you in person. It’s an important matter.”

“Whoa, Charlie. You’re getting all serious on me all of a sudden. But if you need a meeting with me, I’ll give you one. When do you want to come over?”

“This afternoon would be good.”

“I’ll squeeze you in after my workout, okay? Around 4pm.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be over then.”

As the bus rolled away from the center of town and headed to Artie’s side of the world, the street people who lined the sidewalks seemed to have grown in rank and number over the course of what he considered to be a long and simmering summer. They stirred about in their clothes imported from the Third World, as though they were now a part of this Third World and had to resort to hustling on the street to get by. They loitered in front of the convenience stores and lounged in the small public parks. They hung around and yet moved about from place to place, as they were perpetually active in their idleness as they inched their way towards the next big meal by buying lotto tickets, taking out the trash for local shopkeepers, dumpster diving, resting on park benches with tall beers in paper bags, trading food stamps away for cash, spending their government checks on rent before canvassing the dollar stores. They were carefree but barely surviving, as though they secretly understood that the pursuit of anything higher than what the government doled out for them was easy license for cops and state- employed psychiatrists to have their way with them. It was better not to expect too much, because they knew their limitations. They knew that better times would somehow deliver them if they could just make it through a tough era when every God-given pleasure carried a deadly risk. And Charlie figured that he would soon be among them if the plan he had in store didn’t work out.

He had about a month’s worth of rent money left, and yet he still believed that Renee might overlook this in her romantic appraisal of him. But income and love were inseparable to women like Renee, which is why Charlie had to take his first steps into Artie’s world— not the world of the occasional weekend party but his long-term world that would ultimately sparkle Renee’s eyes once she got word he had finally crossed over its threshold after years of chasing that world. All he really wanted to do was to taste that world, just enough to wet his beak and get the hell out. A more regulated form of criminality, if employed correctly, could win Renee.

Artie took him into his office after he arrived. The space loomed as a modern and futuristic part of the castle that had an antiquated feel about it except for the walls of the room which were made of the same painted-over mortar that the exterior of the castle was made out of. It had a fireplace and a few oil canvases that must have been portraits of Artie’s aristocratic ancestors, but everything else in the room was state-of-the-art. Large flat screen televisions flashed the business news, the graphs and charts bright and colorful. His desk was made of a clear tempered glass on which various flat screen monitors stood. Wireless stereo speakers were fixed to each corner of the wide ceiling, the flow of music and sound controlled by computer. In his workout clothes and a with a small, wireless headset coiled around his ear, Artie took a seat on one of the soft leather chairs and bade Charlie to take a seat across from him. They sat facing each other at a small, informal conference area next to a lighted bar that featured bottles of liquor three rows deep on its shelves. The light was magnified by rock crystal glasses and decanters, a crystal ice bucket as well.

Charlie fought the temptation to ask him for a drink, as he had to remember that he was not Artie’s equal in all of this. He almost felt like a child in his seat about to ask his father for an advance on his allowance. Artie’s demeanor, although they were similar in age, infantilized him that much. He could think of no other way their relationship would work.

“Well, Charlie, you said this was personal. So what’s this all about?”

“I have to ask you about something, Artie.”

“Well, what is it that you wanted to ask?”

“I don’t know quite how to put it.”

“Do you think I would know how to put it?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“So don’t you think it might be easier on both of us if you just got to the fucking point then?”

“Right. Sorry about that. Artie, I know you’re a retired businessman and all and that you live a very stress-free life and all, but I also know—or at least I think I know, or at least you may indeed know already, and mistake me if I’m wrong, because I’m not really sure—”

“Would you just get to the fucking point before I rip your fat head off! I don’t have time to spend all day with you!”

“Right. Sorry about that. But Artie, I know you also deal in things that may be seen by some as illegal, for lack of a better word. There, I said it.”

“Illegal? Me? My God, Charlie, you’re just a regular fucking Sherlock Holmes now aren’t you. What on earth gave you that idea?”

“I just didn’t know how to say it. I’m sorry.”

“Proceed.”

“Anyway, I have an idea that you may or may not accept, but I want you to strongly consider it. From what I hear, I know you deal in illegal substances on occasion, and I thought that maybe I can start selling some of it for you on the side—or at least just a little bit of it until I gain your trust.”

“Wait a minute. Hold on a sec,” he smiled. “You want to help me sell some of my product?”

“Yes, and I’m asking this as a favor, because I really need the work, and I don’t mean to get involved in your business and all, but I thought that since we know each other already that maybe we can do some business together.”

“With you?”

“Yes. I’m broke right now, Artie, and I want to start making my way, and why not start making my way with your help? There, I said it, okay?”

Charlie sighed deeply and collapsed to the back of the chair he was in. Artie simply smiled as though Charlie’s reticence was absurd.

“Charlie—and I hate to tell you this—but you, my man, are not the type. You’re too much of a flake for that kind of work. You’re too soft. Now if you want a loan, I can give you that, but Charlie, you’re just not the type. I mean look at you. You look like fucking Humpty- Dumpty sitting across from me.”

“I can do it, Artie. I’m telling you that I can.”

“And I’m telling you that you can’t,” he said more forcefully.

“Artie, I can do this if you’d just give me a chance. Please. I know

I can do it.”

“Who would you sell it to?”

“I know the streets, Artie. The people in my neighborhood and the people at the college. These college kids want to get high all the time. They don’t study nearly half as much. And I kind of look like a student anyway, so I’ll easily blend in at the college or even the local high school. People won’t see me coming.”

“You know the streets? I don’t think so. You’re too soft to deal.”

“I’m not talking about a large amount here. Just a little bit, and if it works out, I can move onto larger things.”

“You actually think you can pull something like this off?”

“Yeah, I can pull it off. I just need a chance is all.”

“Have you even considered what would happen if you got caught? They don’t play around in this county when it comes to that. And then what happens when you rat me out? I’ll have to cut your balls off and stuff them down your throat if that happens. Is that what you want? Are you seriously ready to deal with that? Because something tells me that you haven’t thought this through. All you’re seeing is dollar signs and pussy—bitches and money is all you see—and believe me, I’ve been there before.”

“I’m not going to rat you out. I’d rather go to jail than wind up dead.”

“You really want this, huh? You know something, I never pegged you as that kind of guy, Charlie. You’re opening a Pandora’s Box here. Once you’re in, there’s no easy way out, not for the type of business

I’m in. You may end up in jail for a very long time.”

“It’d be worth it, because my life is going nowhere as it is.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m sick of being shut out all the time. All people do is look down on me, and that’s the truth of the matter. From day one people have told me that I’m not good enough to do anything, that I’ll never make any money, never get married, that I’ll never own a house, never drive a nice car, never be successful at anything I do. And I want to change all that, because from day one I’ve been underestimated, Artie. From day one I’ve been shut out and put down. So when you say that I might wind up in jail, it would be damn worth it, because right now, at least I’m trying to change my life, and I need this to do it.”

Artie thought about it a minute and then said, “if you really think you can take the heat if it comes down, then I’ve got no reason to say no to you, Charlie. But let me tell you something, and I hate to join the chorus here, but I still don’t think you’re the type. But I’m going against my instincts here, because I want to help you.”

“Great,” said Charlie. “When can I get the stuff?”

“Whoa, Charlie. I just don’t give you the stuff. You know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“In this business, you buy the stuff from me and then resell it. I’m a supplier for Chrissakes—not your rich daddy. Let’s get that straight.”

“But I thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong. I’m a supplier. You have to purchase it from me first. It’s a business venture. I just don’t go around giving it away.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. How much would it cost?”

“That depends on how much you’re willing to invest. Hell, sky’s the limit here. How much do you have?”

“Let’s see. Well, I have about a thousand dollars.”

“That’s it?”

“It’s all I have left. I don’t have anything else.”

“That’s hardly anything, but I guess we’ll have to work something out then, won’t we?”

Charlie smiled at this and said, “thanks, Artie.”

“But let’s get one thing straight. From here on in, I contact you. You don’t contact me. You have to give me your address, and I want you to have the money ready to go at your place. So get the money together right away. Once you have it, just sit tight for the next day or two.”

“But when will you deliver the stuff?”

“Let me worry about that. You just do what you normally do. I’ll contact you when I have the stuff ready—and remember, you know longer contact me. I contact you. So for right now, go home and do what you normally do. Just have the money ready, okay, champ?”

“You got it, Artie, and I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“Save the sappy stuff after you sell it and make some dough. This is business, not daycare for Chrissakes.”

When Charlie returned to his apartment, he started to have doubts about the whole thing, but he knew that he could handle the jail time if he were caught. And he fought off the temptation to call Artie when he didn’t receive word from him during the slow, impatient hours that had elapsed. He even went out for dinner and spent a few bucks on a fish sandwich at a restaurant he had never been to before. And it was there that he visited an ATM and withdrew the money that was needed for the transaction. It felt odd carrying all that money in his pocket, as though someone would try to steal it from him. But as he returned to his apartment, a slow paranoia seeping in from all of the cash he was carrying, it was the waiting that was the hardest part. When he returned home from the fish dinner, he found that his apartment door had been left unlocked. Or at least he thought he left it unlocked by mistake.

He entered his living room with a bit of trepidation, turned on the light, and found to his surprise that a tall, heavy-set man he had never laid eyes on before sitting on the couch in the darkness and sipping at one of his sodas from the fridge. He had a package wrapped in brown shopping bag paper next to him.

“You Charlie?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I have a delivery for you.”

“Great. I’ve been waiting all day,” he said nervously.

“You’ve got your end?”

“Yeah.”

He gave the mysterious man all that he had left: a thousand dollars withdrawn from a friendly ATM. It was all that he had left in the world, and so he handed it over while recalling a short prayer he had learned in high school many years ago.

The towering man stood from the couch and moved closer to him. He got so close that Charlie could smell his hot breath spill onto him. He jammed his blunt index finger into his breastbone and said, “remember, you don’t contact us. We contact you.” And with a slight smirk on his face, the man left Charlie there with the brown package on the couch.

When he opened the package, he discovered that the brown powder had been divvied up into smaller bags—all of them nickels and dimes so that he could sell them quickly on the street. Also included was a small chit breaking down the street value of what he had. Artie had made it easy. Now all he had to do was find buyers, and this would have to wait until morning.

When he lay down for sleep that night, he felt the relief of being empowered for the first time in all of his life. He was actually making his future for a change instead of breaking it. And sure, he was nervous about it. But the life he led had to change. He could no longer stomach his own life. It had drained him and pummeled him enough to transform him into nothing more than a freak in his own live show and having an audience of none. Living with the constant desperation over his head, especially with his desire to have Renee, had also taken its toll. And perhaps he could sell the stuff, make the cash, and finally be rid of whatever his own failures had imposed. But he still thought of Renee even before he took off into the dream world of sleep that night. He could finally become more of a man than he once was—a bit stronger and a bit tougher and perhaps a bit less dependent on her company as well. With the brown package in his apartment, he felt fuller, as though something within him had finally clicked and grown, like a weed that had somehow broken through the cracks of the sidewalk and stretched out to the sun after years of garnering its strength beneath the boot heels of others. If things went well, and if he sold all of the bags, he would be rich enough to ask Renee to take a vacation with him—some place exotic like Cancun or Hawaii where he would finally have her all to himself, where her good graces could shine upon him—that loving kind of light that fills a man with the stuff that makes living worthwhile.

It was rare when a woman did that, he thought. When a woman shined, there was nothing on earth like it. Such a light was brief and fleeting at best, but when it came, one could live for lifetimes in that light. He would find crime a worthy partner just to have it shine upon him. And so with thoughts of her, he slept pleasantly and deeply as though it were the first time he had ever slept before.

When he awoke, he was a changed man. The fragmented parts of him had pulled together in his sleep. He was well rested and for some reason strangely confident about visiting the college campus and connecting with some of the students there. He knew they would buy the stuff, as they would probably resell it to someone else, a simple dime bag that moves down the line until someone snorted or injected it. Who knew whom that person would be, and it really didn’t matter all that much to him. They could have been studying to be lawyers, teachers, or doctors. Perhaps they were bartenders, cocktail waitresses, short-order cooks, or retail store clerks. Somewhere somebody would let it float in their veins, and Charlie couldn’t care less who that person was or how it affected them. He just had to sell the stuff to the college kids who would be playing on a wide quadrangle on the campus on a luxurious, sun-drenched afternoon. They always want to feel better when they felt good already.

He lined his pockets with a few of the bags from the package, and he even put on a pair of dirty old sunglasses that he thought he’d never wear. But then he remembered suddenly that he had a sex addicts meeting to attend in the early afternoon. He wanted to speak to Renee there and tell her how he was moving up in the world. He wanted to show her his new look and his new attitude. He would sell the stuff afterwards, he figured, as night time was probably a better time to unload it. And so he first went to the diner and pigged out on a Triple Threat breakfast as he had done so many times before, because he had been starving himself and needed some real food to eat.

She said yes to him about going out for coffee after the meeting he attended, and what’s funny and strange about how his day unfolded was that it all worked exactly as he had planned. When he asked her, part of that light shined on him as though somewhere in the deep of her consciousness she knew what had taken place or at least sensed that something fundamental had changed about him. She knew that his fragmented parts had integrated somehow. She sensed this after the meeting, as they both stood out on the lawn of the church. He had become much more of a man. He had grown up since they met last.

He sat across from her at the college coffee shop. He checked every few minutes to see if the dime bags in his pockets were still there, as he had planned to sell them on the campus that night. For the first time he felt comfortable enough to walk on the same lawns as the students, since it was finally business and no longer pleasure that brought him there. He had no misgivings about conducting his business, as his investment of a thousand dollars now depended on it. He had become a businessman of sorts, and it was a role that he liked, especially while sitting across from Renee who suddenly seemed younger and more childish when matched up against his new role as a dangerous local drug dealer. He even wore his sunglasses inside the coffee shop and stuck a toothpick in his mouth. He molded to his role as though it were tailor-made for his newfound confidence and freedom.

“How goes it, Renee,” he asked her after swallowing some of his coffee.

“You look different today, Charlie. You didn’t say anything at the meeting. How come?”

“Didn’t feel like saying anything is all. I usually don’t say anything when I don’t feel like saying anything.”

“And those sunglasses. You’ve never worn them before. You’re wearing them inside, you know.”

“You have a problem with it?”

“No, of course not. They look pretty good on you. You’ve lost a little weight too. Are you dieting?”

“It was time to make some changes in my life, Renee. Charlie is finally on the move.”

“Changes? Well, I can see that. But it seems kind of sudden, don’t you think?”

“Let’s just say that I’m finally moving on. You see, I’m going places, Renee. They can’t keep me down anymore. I’m finally moving to where I want to be in life, and no one’s going to stop me this time around.”

“Where exactly are you moving on to?”

“Why? You want to come along for the ride?”

“Not really, no.”

“It’s your loss then. All I know is that my time is now, and I’m moving up in the world. You can take it or leave it.”

“Excuse me for a second, but what the hell has gotten into you? You’re not play acting with me, are you?”

“This is no act. You’re either on the train, or you’re off. You’re either heading in my direction or not.”

“And what direction are you heading in? Sounds like a dead end if you ask me.”

“Let’s not beat around the bush anymore, sweetheart. I’ve got a few things cooking in the pot, and I know you’ll be interested in the meal.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s just say that as of today I started working for Artie Tedesco. He and I are really tight, you catch my drift?”

“Wait a second. You’re working for Artie?”

“You got that right, babe.”

“Charlie, you don’t want to get mixed up with him. You don’t know him.”

“Well, I don’t know Artie like you know Artie, that’s for sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Artie and I, you see, are business partners.”

“And what does that make me?”

“I guess that makes you one of our assets.”

She leaned back in her chair, sighed, and then composed herself again.

“Charlie, you don’t know what you’re doing,” she said. “I’m trying to get away from Artie Tedesco. That’s why I’m going to meetings. And weren’t you supposed to talk to him about me? What happened to that?”

“Oh, I talked to him alright. You see, Artie and I have come to an understanding.”

“And what’s that?”

“We like to share our assets nowadays, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t like the way you’re talking to me, Charlie. And you think you know Artie, but you really don’t. And my relationship with him is only temporary, if that’s what you mean by being an asset.”

“Sure, hon. But for now, I’m on a roll, and I want to take you along for the ride.”

“Me? You want to take me along for the ride? Charlie, I’m trying to get off that fucking train. And even if I were along for the ride, why would I want to ride it with you?”

“Because I’m the goods, honey-doll, and pretty soon I’ll have the cash to take you places. That’s if you hop on board.”

“Stop talking to me like that. I’m not your honey-doll, and I’m telling you this, because I like you, Charlie. So consider this as good, free advice. You don’t know Artie Tedesco, and you shouldn’t be getting involved with him. He’s dangerous, Charlie. He’s buried people in the ground—even his business partners and the people who were closest to him.”

“That doesn’t stop you from enjoying him.”

“Enjoying him? I’m trying to get the hell away from him, Charlie, and maybe it’s taking a little time, but I want nothing more to do with him, which is why I asked you to help me in the first place. You clearly did not do this. And now you’ve become his business partner? You should have left town by now, because it’s much better than being mixed up with him. So take some good advice, Charlie, and stop trying to be like him. You’re not that kind of guy, and you’re much better when you’re just yourself.”

“It’s a little too late for that,” he said.

“Well, that’s just fine. It’s your fucking funeral.”

She grabbed her purse and left him sitting there, her cup of coffee half-full, still warm, and abandoned in front of him. For a while he just sat there and watched the steam rise from the coffee’s black surface. It dawned on him that maybe he shouldn’t have been so heavy with her. But what he saw at Artie’s party that held much more sway—how sex with Artie and the two other girls excited her more than any sex addicts meeting could. It was written all over her face that afternoon. He couldn’t rid himself of that impression. She hid it cleverly at the meetings and brought it out only when she was with Artie. But after she said those things to him and left him there so abruptly, he wished she had stayed long enough to tell her that he could no longer stand being himself, or at least being his former self before he had suddenly sprouted into his new form. His old self carried with it a punishment so severe that he just couldn’t continue with it. And he at least acknowledged that his new self wasn’t all that perfect either. The human character is always imperfect no matter what form it takes, and it’s more the case that at certain times certain characteristics become emphasized over others, especially when trying to find the near-perfect combination that would ultimately attract a woman like Renee. But it can never be perfect, as even in his newly-formed drug- dealing persona there were traits not to be liked.

No matter what changes a man goes through, there will always be a part of him that he won’t like, and he certainly won’t be perfect to the woman he pursues. As he sat there watching the steam rise from her coffee, he recognized the futility involved in trying to become what she wanted. This futility, however, was a condition reserved for himself alone and not anyone else.

Feeling a little less of himself now, he still wanted to make the sales at the college. He finished what was left of his coffee, paid the bill, and proceeded up the slope of the avenue that led to the college campus. The sun was slowly setting, and fairly soon the students would be out and about, shuffling among the various keg parties thrown by alpha males bent on seducing the young freshman girls who adored them. It was at this nexus that he would finally make his mark and finally be going places. He guessed he could do this every Friday night and double his initial investment in a month’s time. And then he would be wealthy enough and tapped in enough to afford Renee. She may not have liked the sudden change in him, but really there was no other way. Relationships are always like that, he figured. At least now he had what it took to survive, as a man’s ability to survive is what women wanted, hands down, and there was no greater badge of survival than to have what Artie Tedesco had. Artie had whatever he wanted—the women, the wine, the song—all of it on a daily basis. He took what he wanted when he wanted it, and this included Renee as well.