cocaine dreams ~ a love story pt 4

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as jake was pulling into a parking spot near frank and mary’s home he noticed frank getting out of his car parked in the tiny driveway.  frank spotted him as well.  jake waved and crossed the street. 

jake, my man.  you aren’t going to believe this.  i hope you’re ready for it.

sounds good.  i can’t wait.

the two men walked up the stairs and frankie opened the front door.  as always lake merritt sparkled below.  once the door was closed frankie became even more animated.

let’s go in the den.  you have to see this to believe it.  fucking amazing.

jake greeted the girls and they all followed frankie into the den.  once in the den frank waited for everyone to settle down then pulled out a solid rock of cocaine.  it must have weighed at least a half pound.  it was huge.  jake’s jaw dropped.

this my friends is 99% peruvian flake.  it doesn’t get any better than this. 

frankie set the rock of coke on a mirror.  then he found a new razor blade, one that was normally used for taking paint off windows.  he carefully cleaned the oil off the new blade then proceeded to slice very thin pieces of coke from the rock.  everyone watched with rapt attention.  then he took the slices and quickly and expertly minced them up on the mirror with the blade.  when he was finished he produced a short silver tube and handed it to mary.

ladies first.

after all of them had sampled the cocaine they sat back and enjoyed the rush.

frankie that is some amazing coke.  truly amazing.

glad you like it jake. 

damn straight.  i’ll take a gram.

make it two.  stephanie chimed in.

you got it.  so, mary how did the project go?

frankie started to work on the order.  mary got up and went into another room.  when she came back in she was holding a very stylish rock ‘n’ roll style jacket.  it was black with white piping around the collar and cuffs.  the lining was white silk.  she turned the jacket semi inside out and spoke.

steph and i made the small pockets out of some white silk.  the color almost matches.  then we sewed the pockets onto the jacket lining.  we tried them out using some paper packets filled with sugar.  you can’t tell a thing.  pretty much perfect.

perfect indeed.  thanks ladies.  very very cool.  jake, we’re getting ready for the stones concert at the oakland coliseum in a few weeks. 

yeah, we tried to get tickets but it sold out fast.  you guys were very lucky.

frankie just smiled and handed jake a packet of the peruvian flake.

$95 for two.

thanks, frankie.

not a problem.  have another hit.

don’t mind if we do.

stephanie and jake spent another twenty minutes or so with frank and mary before they split to head back to jake’s place.  as they got to jake’s car stephanie asked.

how’s mr bubble doing?  i don’t remember.

we better stop and get some.

ok.  may as well steal a few straws as well.

the pair stopped at the 7-11 and jake scored the straws along with a bottle of mr bubble.  as he was leaving the store jake found a $5 bill one the ground by the door.  he picked it up went back in and gave it to the clerk saying.

someone must have dropped this.

the clerk looked at him like he was crazy.  jake just laughed.  when jake got back to the car he told stephanie about the five spot.

i wondered what you were doing.  you know you’re crazy. 


they both laughed.

the victorian was empty when they got back to it.  another night with the place to themselves. 

cool.  much better than sharing anything and we get the bath for as long as we want it.

yes.  true.  hey, check this shirt out.

jake showed stephanie a shirt with a large blood stain on the left shirttail.

haha.  you had to have been wearing that shirt the last time we had sex.

the blood on jake’s shirt was from stephanie’s period.

yep.  i didn’t notice until later.  pretty funny.  huh?

we were lucky i guess.  haha.

the two were talking about a ride one evening out in the hills around corte madera.  there was a full moon and the dead winter grass looked just like shimmering snow in that bright early summer moonlit night.  a lonely two lane blacktop wound through the hills.  they were the only car on the road.

stephanie suggested that, ‘they do it in the road’, just like the beatles song.  jake was amenable but the road, even with a blanket, was a bit too hard for both of them.  jake suggested they try the grass along side the road.  he took the blanket and laid it out on the dead grass.

the grass was much softer and things went well until they began to slide down the hill locked together in an embrace.  they slid for a good twenty feet before they came to a stop against a small tree.  they were both laughing.

the hike back up the hill was something.

yeah, but not before you earned your red wings that night.  i had fun.

i know you did.  me too.  you had a great idea, steph.

yes, i did.  now, let’s get into that flake.

for the next several hours the two did indeed get into the almost pure peruvian flake.  some wine and weed as well.

oh, boy.  very nice.  i think it’s mr. bubble time before we can’t manage it.

good point.  let’s do it.

they snorted another line then collected what they needed for the bath.  weed, papers, wine, some cut up coke, and of course the bottle of mr. bubble.  the hot bath with bubbles was as always very nice.  the usual ritual of smoking some weed mixed with coke was made even more amazing that night with the flake.  several laced joints later they retired back into the bedroom.  jake said he needed a glass of water. 

he left the room and went to the kitchen sink.  he found a clean glass and drank some water.  as he stood at the sink electric shock waves ran up and down his spine.  electrical explosions rocked his brain.  neurons and synapses crackled inside his head.  sparks were probably shooting from his ears.  he held on tight.  but lost track of time and place.  jake wasn’t sure how long he had been standing at the sink.  he finally made it back to the bedroom and stephanie asked him where he had been.

been?  i was in the kitchen getting a glass of water.

you were gone for so long i went looking for you.  i went into the kitchen.  i didn’t see you.  i looked in every room.  i even went out on the back porch.  jake, you weren’t anywhere here in the house.

you didn’t see me?  i was there at the sink.  are you sure?

positive.  i went into the kitchen.  twice.  i looked around and did not see you.

sweet jesus.  that’s weird.  i remember standing there and then nothing.  then i remember standing there again and i came back in here.  are you sure?

yes, jake.  i’m very sure.


to this day jake isn’t sure what really happened that night in the kitchen of the old victorian.  was he abducted by aliens?  or perhaps he made a jaunt out on some astral plane paying a visit to jupiter or mars?  or went cruising on an old inca road with some long dead indians?  perhaps a voyage with eric the red?  or one to the far east with marco polo?  or was it something else entirely?  only god knows and he ain’t talking.  

at any rate, the story of stephanie and jake slowly began to unravel even further after that night.  jake’s vision of love, white picket fences, and stephanie never came true.  things never got really ugly in the end and there was plenty of pain and angst to go around for the two of them.  for some reason they both made sure of that. 

stephanie eventually moved to somewhere on the west coast of canada north of vancouver.  the last time jake ever heard from her was a very strange letter he received six months or so after she had moved.  a letter that reminded him of a funny yet sad canadian junkie’s letter he’d read in the old humor magazine, ‘national lampoon’. 



8 thoughts on “cocaine dreams ~ a love story pt 4

    Cheryl Timmons said:
    June 27, 2011 at 10:16 am

    Thanks, John. I really enjoyed the story.

    johnhauge responded:
    June 27, 2011 at 11:11 am

    my pleasure. thank you, cheryl.

    mike kamradt said:
    June 28, 2011 at 4:43 am

    It’s no wonder Jon loves your writing, I think another one of yours has just passed over my head and he’s much taller than me.

    johnhauge responded:
    June 28, 2011 at 5:18 am

    lol. thanks, mike. where is mr. jonny? he’s flying further under the radar than i am at the moment?

    G said:
    June 28, 2011 at 11:02 pm

    Been thinking of your story throughout the day, trying to figure out why you wrote this story and how I feel about it. First, I love your writing style — you created wonderful scenes and characters in the first two chapters. But, I have to admit, I didn’t like Stephanie, nor her friends, and maybe now you realize you really didn’t like her either. She was an addict, and your ‘love’ was a ‘pipe dream.’ I think this will be the last time we hear of her.
    R.I.P., Stephanie. Long live, Jake, and his beautiful brown-eyed-girl.

    johnhauge responded:
    June 29, 2011 at 4:25 am

    the story was written because of the ‘kitchen scene’ in pt 4. the whole thing was hard to write. it took months. literally. thanks for the the kind words. more importantly thanks for reading.

    Angry Jon said:
    July 1, 2011 at 6:00 am

    Sorry I’ve been on the Down Low for as long as I have, Johnny. Jus’ tryin’ to get it together. I waited until all four parts were out, then read them, and I have to say I gotta roll this around a little bit. Even this far into the comment, I’ve sat on it for 20 min and counting. And that’s not a bad thing; being able to give a clear and concise response in a finite number of characters isn’t neccessarily a boon. I read on the above comment that it was hard to write and that it took months. I can tell. The nature of drug use and relationships makes for complicated stuff, ambigious feelings. I’ve had friends that I used to do drugs with, and it cost me their friendship. Others are still friends to this day, and I look back at the experiences with them as nothing short of incredible. People don’t like to own their own shortcomings, and I think a lot of times the drugs are blamed for flaws that are inherent in themselves.

    As a bit of writing, there’s some stuff I’da cut out, other stuff extended and expounded. As someone that has seen some shit and been to the mountain and back, tho, I’m right there with you, brother. It’s a sad and beautiful world. Thank you for sharing.

    johnhauge responded:
    July 1, 2011 at 7:00 am

    good to hear from you, mr. jonny. i appreciate your sentiments. when we next chat you’ll have to tell me more. though i doubt i’d re-write the thing. regardless. it just never seemed to fit my style and took way too long to dish out. i suppose some of the stuff was just to fill space or take up space. whatever. thanks for reading and as usual your comment. much love and respect. new stuff coming on monday.

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