Rolling Down the Road
Part I
I had probably told Caitlyn four times that the lighter was in my backpack in the back seat before I saw any movement from her body. She just laid there, cigarette drooping out the left side of her mouth as her eyes rolled to the back of her head; that shitty grin permanently embedded on her face as she rubbed the palm of her hands on the shag seat covers of my Buick.
“So they’re good?” I asked her as we passed the ‘WELCOME TO Scranton, Pennsylvania’ sign on our way back to school.
“Fucking…fantastic,” she replied with a shortness of breath.
“Are they dopey? They seem dopey.”
“No…absolutely clean…absolutely fantastic”
I had always depended on Caitlyn to be the one to test the purity of the pills I got. When we first began dealing, she would casually sell a few and we’d impatiently wait for word on how good they were. However, now, a year and half in, she opted only to test them by way of self-administration as soon as we got our hands on a jar.
It wasn’t entirely fair to say that Caitlyn was in love with ecstasy because it would be like saying a child is in love with toys---when one is presented to the other, the infatuation is virtually inevitable. This was the case for just about everyone who tried ecstasy.
For the greater part of the 90s, I spent every weekend watching countless amounts of teens, twenty-something year old yuppies and even some parents shell out their weekly allowance or paychecks on a night of unadulterated bliss. Ecstasy had entered the homes of Generation X’ers the way that winter enters the year; with subtle warning signs, but with no real indication of its longevity. As soon as it arrived, however, I knew it was there to stay.
Living in New York City for the majority of the 80s, it’s safe to say I’ve seen my share of drug-addled adults and youths alike; yet with ecstasy, it was a completely different kind of drug that appealed to a much broader demographic. The feeling ecstasy produced inside its users was the same feeling that every religion sold, but never delivered. That power and the clever designer stamps each pill had turned ecstasy, in just a few short years, as popular—if not more—than marijuana.
It wasn’t uncommon to walk down Broadway on any given weekend night in Manhattan and see countless groups of people all huddled together, chain-smoking cigarettes and chewing on gum as if it were their last meal. Now, nearly twenty years later, Caitlyn and I, as a plan to dig ourselves out of college-inflicted financial ruin, were attempting to bring a dose of happiness to anyone who would shell out the cash.
“Holy shit, these are fucking great,” Caitlyn murmured under her breath.
“Glad you like them. Now send out those mass text-messages telling everyone you’ve got them and let’s get down to business.”
“You’re always about business Aidan, why don’t you just chill out and eat one. It’ll calm you down…you’re always so on edge.”
I swerved the car from the far left lane all the way into the service lane and stopped the car.
“Listen Caitlyn, now I know you’re in all too fabulous of a place right now to even begin to understand the concept of getting caught, but I’m fucking driving down i90 with 99 ecstasy pills in my backpack, the last thing I need is to be loved-up on the road; especially when 20 pills are considered to be drug-trafficking by the DEA. That means for every batch of twenty pills we have in the car, we get a maximum sentence of 25 years to life. Do you really want to risk that?”
Caitlyn’s over-dilated pupils stared back at me like a puppy whose feelings had just been shattered by its owner.
“What the fuck Aidan, I was just trying to help.”
I signaled for a lane merge and kept on driving. I didn’t say another word to her for about a mile or two. Midway through the first mile, she decided to grab her iPod and climb into the backseat to lie down. Casually I glimpsed into the rearview mirror to see how she was doing. She seemed to be having the time of her life, flowing from song to song in a complete haze of enjoyment.
“Why don’t you roll any more Aidan?”
Her voice was now soft and her eyes were glued on mines through the rearview mirror.
“I do roll. What are you talking about?”
“Liar, I haven’t seen you eat a pill since last February.”
“Has it really been that long?” I asked skeptically, although clearly knowing she was right.
“Yeah Aidan, it was Valentine’s day when you and I went to San Francisco for mid-winter break.
“Are you sure Caitlyn? I swear I’ve rolled after that.”
“No, I’m pretty certain Aidan. Remember, we had those blue pistols from the Bay Reggae Music Festival?”
“Yeah I remember that.”
“That was a great night. Come on Aidan, eat one.”
“I can’t Caitlyn; we’re still three hours away. Maybe when we hit Binghamton, I’ll think about it.”
“Why are we even going back tonight anyway? Everyone’s gone for the weekend.”
She was right. I was so preoccupied with getting back and making money that I forgot that today was Saturday.
“Alright, but I don’t want to drive on it, that’s an absolute waste.”
“Okay so get off on the next exit, we’ll find a park-and-stay motel and a bar. We’ll make a night out of it!”
Truth was I was really exhausted and a room to relax sounded pretty great after nearly 4 hours of driving.
“Alright give me one, but I do not want to hear another word from you until we get into the motel room”
“Fine,” she said while handing me the pill.
I chewed the pill up as finely as I could with my front two teeth, making sure not to get any residue stuck in between teethes or in any cavities. The bitter, metallic like chemical taste overpowered my mouth and instantly I wanted to take it back. I felt around the cup holders for a drink while my eyes were still on the road. Thankfully Caitlyn had a Luke-warm half-drunken bottle of Gatorade in her backpack and gave it to me. As the Gatorade washed off most of the bitter taste out of my mouth I glimpsed into the rear view mirror to see Caitlyn’s eyes closed and that shitty grin still spread wide on her face. Almost instantaneously, my heart began to beat fast as the initial placebo affects of the pill began to kick in. Excited for what was in store, I lit a cigarette and looked at the sign on the right: NEXT EXIT, ¾ MILE, DINER, RESTSTOP and MOTEL.
Part II
I was standing at the front desk of the Pennsylvania Days Inn, waiting for the lady to give me my room card when it began to kick in. It began subtlety with a slight weightlessness feeling in my body. Slight movements felt exaggerated and breathing became a task all on its own. Caitlyn was still rolling pretty hard when we were checking in---so much in fact that she had to wait in the car until after I had received the room card.
After the papers were signed and room-cards obtained, I made my way out to the car to get Caitlyn. As soon as I knocked on the window, her head turned swiftly and she greeted me with a smile that would have made Ted Bundy’s heart melt.
“Do we have a room? She asked gushingly
“Yup, Room 128. Here, take the card and go up, I’m going to grab something for us to drink and bring up our bags.”
She exited out the car and said: “Alright, see you soon.”
I walked into the gas station across from the hotel at about 60 miles a minute. I was coming up, and therefore was experiencing that initial burst of energy. I couldn’t keep my eyes focused in one direction; they flickered like a small fire burning into the nighttime. My body was now pulsating and I could feel the chemicals slide down the lining of my stomach and into a pool of stomach acid that would carry it to be metabolized. My hands were slipperier than a just-mopped floor so I kept wiping them on the side of my jeans. I grabbed a 12-pack of beer and a gallon of water.
“$14.28 sir” the lady at the counter yelled out to me as I stared aimlessly at the kaleidoscope of BIC lighters in front of me. “Sir…its $14.28”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I was just….”
“$14.28 sir”
“…just looking at the lighters,” I said while digging through my pocket for the 28 cents I didn’t have.”Here’s $15, I don’t have 28 cents”
The sound of coins clinking together triggered a reverberation of similar sounds throughout my body.
“72 cents is your change, you have a good day.”
“You too”
As soon as I opened the tinted doors of the gas station, the cool Pennsylvanian air hit my face and instantly I was transported into bliss. The mountains in the backdrop of the never ending fields of grass looked hand-painted with calm oil colors. The blues of the sky seemed to change as the wind blew like it were a color palate book from Home Depots paint department. I felt slightly elevated from my body as if I had grown a few feet taller in the short time I was in the gas station. There was a blur of cars zooming pass me on the road a few yards over to my right; something inside of me felt it appropriate to say a little prayer for everyone on the roads---hoping they make it to their destination safely.
As I made my way back to the motel, I opened up the gallon and took a long swig. The cold, Poland spring water hitting my throat felt sensational---as if everything up to that moment had led me to take a swig right there in the middle of the parking lot. It was little things like this that made it evident that the ecstasy had taken a hold of my being; and as I entered the motel, I took a big deep breath and exhaled…hoping that not only the remaining air in my lungs was removed, but also all the remaining traces of Aidan that still lingered.
Every waking second on ecstasy feels like a second out of the greatest movie you’ve ever watched. Everything you see, feel, taste and smell seems to be designed and tailored to your specific liking. There are no bad emotions on good ecstasy, just indescribable ones. Emotions that not even Webster’s Dictionary or professors at Cambridge can muster up seven-syllable words for. In fact, the word that can probably sum up the greatness of the drug is the word it’s already referred to as---ecstasy.
I entered the motel room and found that Caitlyn had begun playing some music and was in the shower. I took off my shoes, laid down on the King size bed and lit a cigarette. As I drew the smoke of the cigarette into my lungs, it seemed to trigger an emotion only describable by receiving all 7s on a Las Vegas slot machine. Each and every drag off the cigarette was my jackpot, and I cherished each one accordingly.
Suddenly I heard the bathroom door open, and as steam began escaping out, like a marvel escaping out of the mist, Caitlyn appears, draped in a towel with a slightly less intense grin, but a grin nonetheless.
“Look who’s got a case of the smiles now,” she said cuter than ever
“Where’d yours go?”
“It’s still here, just slowly but surely making a run for it.”
“Well that must change,” I said, while shuffling through my backpack for my
Jar. “Here...” I said while handing her another dose of love.
“Are you going to eat another too?” she asked
“Maybe later, I’m good for now”
Caitlyn grabbed the pill and chewed it fast, faster than I’ve ever seen someone chew a pill before. It was evident that Caitlyn was on a mission, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Whatever the case may have been, when I took that pill from her in the car, I agreed to set forth on that same mission.
“I have some weed in my backpack…you want to smoke a bowl?”
“Absolutely,” Caitlyn responded while grapping my bowl and weed bag out of my backpack.
I took the first rip off the bowl and again the lucky 7s were hit and my jackpot was to be claimed. I handed the bowl to Caitlyn and as she went to grab it her hands grazed mine. Caitlyn’s hands had grazed mine’s a million times before, but this time the graze seemed to have so much more depth than it usually did. I often try not to differentiate what emotions are from the drugs and which are mine when I’m on ecstasy; mainly because they both seem to stem from the same place---my soul.
**DISCLAIMER PLEASE LISTEN TO: John Stanford’s ‘Aurora’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAwRL2b_E2Q) as you read this section.
I grabbed Caitlyn’s hands and kissed her forearms. Her slight moan was directions for me to continue doing what I was doing, so I did. She was still in her towel, so as I pulled her closer to me, the towel fell by her waistline.
I never bought into the belief that ecstasy made you want to have sex. I think the more logical explanation is that, sex is a great feeling, and when you’re on ecstasy, everything feels brand new. It’s only natural that an enjoyable act like sex would be heightened to the umpteen power when you’re on ecstasy.
That was most definitely the case with Caitlyn. The smell of her just washed hair was completely occupying my every being. The scent filled my nostrils rapidly, and butterflies began to fill my stomach. Each kiss that did not connect on the mouth, felt equally as important as those that did. Each stroke of her breast or flick of her nipple caused her to let out a low, awe-inspiring moan that did as much to making me reach a climax as her mere presence did.
Caitlyn quickly turned the tables and began to reciprocate the same admiration for my body as I had shown hers. She made her way down to my package and quickly grabbed it with assertion and possessiveness, a side of Caitlyn I had never seen before. She began working on the area as my body pulsated to a peak. I could feel my limbs turn to mush, and everything in the room seemed to be moving to the beat of the ambient trance music playing in the background.
The mind-fuck portion of my peak was just beginning. Rapid thoughts and emotions I didn’t know existed in my brain begin to flood my every existence as I twist and turn on the bed. Auditory and visual hallucinations creep calmly, not to disrupt the tone of the whole trip. The patterns on the bed sheets begin to flow south as the music gets clearer, crisper than ever possible.
Caitlyn’s hair sat sprawled out on my stomach as I watch her head bop up and down. I gather up all strands of her hair and form an impromptu ponytail. She looks up at me, gasp for air and goes back at it. At this moment, my toes begin to curl and every indication that a climax is ahead is presented. Unsure of whether or not it’s a climax or just my trip coming to its highest peak, I grab Caitlyn, place her on the bed and penetrate her unapologetically.
I thrust some 10 times before I realize that my climax is near, yet I am not ready to release. I think of it like an old friend on their way to visit your home, but you have yet finished cleaning up. Deep inside you wish they would get loss on their way over---therefore granting you a few minutes more…just a few minutes.
“I’m gonna cum,” I say almost unrecognizably between heavy breaths. As I thrust harder and harder my internal doorbell begins to ring. I walk slowly to the door, cleaning up every last mess I can, but it is too late…they’ve arrived.
Part III
Caitlyn and I both woke up around the same time that next morning. Half empty beer bottles lay sprawled on the floor as the stench of stale cigarettes filled my virgin morning-nostrils.
“Is this a smoking room?” I thought to myself
“Good morning,” I heard come from Caitlyn who was crawled up in a ball beside me, still very naked.
“Morning...we should check out, get some coffee and get on the road.”
“Yeah we should, but first…”Caitlyn’s hands traveled down my pants to signal that she wanted to revisit the events of last night.
“Come on, we’ve got to get going”
“Check-out times not for another 3 hours, we have time.”
“Caitlyn, come on, we have a long drive ahead of us.”
I had since got up and began brushing my teeth in the bathroom sink...casually peaking my hand in and out of the room to hear what it was Caitlyn had to say.
“I’m so fucking stupid?” she shouted at me while getting up from the bed
“Why are you stupid Caitlyn?”
“Because I constantly fall into the same patterns with you. It happened in San Francisco and now it’s happening again. ”
“What’s happening?”
“Don’t play stupid Aidan; you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“No, I don’t. All I know is that we had a great time in San Francisco and we had a great time last night…did we not?”
“Yeah, we did, but you cannot continue having me when you want Aidan.”
“You see, I knew you would turn this around on me.”
“Oh please Aidan, you knew exactly what would happen when we got this room.”
“Maybe I did, but does that mean because of that I should be ready to commit?”
“No, but at least treat it as if it were an option.”
“It isn’t an option Caitlyn. It just isn’t. You’re a good friend of mine who helps me sell these pills. That’s it; nothing more, nothing less.”
Tears were now running down Caitlyn’s face as I tried to preoccupy myself with pointless things to try and not look at her.
“Listen, I’ll be down in the car. I’m leaving in 15 minutes and would like it if you were there with me.”
In less than 10 minutes, Caitlyn had come downstairs and gotten into the car. She had put on sunglasses to cover her red eyes and tears, but I can still hear her sniffle in the car. No words were exchanged for the first hour until she needed to stop at a gas station for cigarettes.
We were making good timing and had just entered Binghamton. I now felt a bit safer now that we were in New York State. There’s something absolutely unsettling about being in another state with drugs, everything’s different, both the cops and the laws.
As we entered Binghamton, I asked Caitlyn if she wanted to smoke a bowl. She nodded slightly and I asked her to hand me my backpack. She grabbed my backpack from the back and packed my bowl. She passed me the bowl and I proceeded to light it.
“Watch out,” Caitlyn yelled subtlety as we passed a state trooper on the road.
“You think he saw us?” I asked as Caitlyn went to turn around “…NO, don’t turn around.”
“Shit, he pulled out.”
“Hide the bowl.”
Caitlyn shoved the bowl down her pants and let out a scream
“Shit it’s still hot,” she yelled.
I was paying too much attention to the pig behind us to listen to Caitlyn. We got a few yards down when he turned on his lights and signaled for us to pull over.
The car reeked of marijuana and I knew he would smell it the moment I opened the window.
“Hello sir, license and registration please”
Caitlyn opens the glove compartment and gets my registration as I nervously dig through my wallet for my license.
“Here you go sir.”
He examines the license and says: ‘Sir, may I ask, do you smell marijuana?”
I respond, “Yes sir.”
“Please step out of the vehicle sir.”
I stepped out the vehicle and was detained by the officer and placed near the squad car as the officer talked to Caitlyn.
A few moments later Caitlyn too was removed from the car and the officer told us that he would begin a search of the vehicle.
Every second of a vehicle search is the worse seconds you can ever experience of your life. Everything the officer touches that is in close proximity to your stash makes your stomach churn and knees buckle. The backpack was on the floor in the backseat. He was still thoroughly checking the driver and passenger seats looking for stems or marijuana residue but I had none. To this day I wonder if he would have found a stem or a leaf, would we have been released with unlawful possession of marijuana, That’s the thing with drug dealing though, there’s a lot of what-if’s you think about, but only one definite.
The officer kneeled down on the driver seat and scoped out the back seat. He picked up the backpack and took it outside of the car. He put it on the hood of the car and walks back to squad car to get gloves. It is at this moment tears begin to run down Caitlyn face. Her glasses are still on but droplets of tears run down both cheeks. The cop notices this and asks her if she’s okay. She responds nothing and goes back to the back pack.
“The backpack is mine,” I yelled out to the officer.
“What?”
“The backpack is mine, everything inside of it is mine, the car is mine; everything is.”
The officer opens the backpack, looks inside and pulls out the jar.
“Holy shit,” he responds and automatically calls for another squad car.
I got a letter from a friend of mines from college who knew what Caitlyn and I were both doing. He asked me if I regret taking all the blame. Absolutely not. Yeah, it could have led to a lesser sentence, but it would have robbed both of us of a life. Caitlyn’s a good girl who, after all was said and done, was never doing it for the money. She was doing it for me. I guess this was my way of finally repaying her.
The End.
