Story #104 - T'd Off

T'd Off

“You can’t take any more, Jimmy,” Hector said, stepping in front of the young man. Jimmy’s blue eyes were bright and his face was flushed; a common symptom in the addicted.

“But I wanna!” The teenager’s voice had broken a few years ago, but he managed to shove it into a higher octave and make himself sound more petulant.

Hector wasn’t buying it. He’d seen too many kids OD on the stuff to make exceptions for one kid, even one as pathetic as Jimmy.

Life hadn’t dealt Jimmy Tith any good cards in a long time, and it showed in his gaunt frame and bug eyes. Hector knew that most nights, the kid barely got enough food to make it through; the shelters were low on resources this time of year, and the last decade had been rough on the homeless in general. Successive conservative governments had taken the stance that people like Jimmy were on the streets because they were lazy or stupid, and treated them accordingly. A kid like the twitchy one in front of him had no choice; his mom had been born addicted and he was bound to follow in her footsteps. It didn’t seem as though he had any brain damage, but Hector couldn’t be sure; Jimmy rarely came in anymore.

“Jimmy,” Hector tried again, “just enjoy what you have already, OK?” He kept his voice low and soothing – the kid could easily pop if he decided this wasn’t to his liking, and while Hector could drop the little man like a hot knife, he’d hate have to put the hurt on him.

There was a tense moment as Jimmy swayed back and forth on unsteady feet, eyes darting first to Hector and then to the machine behind him. Hector could see the kid contemplating a desperate rush, so he turned and starting fiddling with dials on the front control panel. Jimmy had his back now, and any attack he made would show up on camera as being without notice. It would mean a permanent ban from the center, and he’d have a hard time getting what he needed on the streets.

Hector heard Jimmy’s feet shuffle away, followed by the sound of his thin body collapsing on one of the couches in the room. This early in the morning, visitors to the center were few and far between, since most of them were sleeping off last night’s binges or scouring for a morning pick-up. They knew that once they’d exhausted their dose at the center they were done for the day, and many of them tried to make it as long as they could before coming in. It made for interesting experiences around the dinner hour.

“Hec…” Jimmy’s voice trailed off, and Hector turned to make sure the young man was still breathing. Starting off at the ceiling, the boy had a smile on his face, but his chest still rose and fell regularly. Hector had soft spot for the kid, mostly because he came by his addiction honestly.

“Yeah, Jimmy?”

“You ever tried this stuff?” Jimmy tried to bring his head up, but stopped after a few unsuccessful attempts.

“T? Nah. Doesn’t agree with me.” Hector sat down on a couch across from Jimmy; his high wouldn’t last long, and Hector could spare the time to make sure the kid made it back out to the streets alive.

“You shoullld,” Jimmy slurred, “it’s like I can see everything!”

Hector shrugged. Jimmy probably could; distilled T would let a guy go anywhere in his mind he’d been before, no matter how far back. Seeing your own birth was an option, or enjoying every second of a first kiss again or again. From what he’d been told, time on T seemed infinite, right up until the dose wore off.

“Hector!” Jimmy sat straight up, eyes focused and face flushed. “Get down!”

“What?” Hector shook his head. “Jimmy, just –“ he didn’t get another word out before Jimmy slammed into him, pinning him to the cushions of the couch.

“What the hell, Jimmy?” He screamed. “You know the rules! I’m going to have to –“ his words were drowned out as the T-machine let out a deep bass tone and then went absolutely silent. A thundering explosion followed, throwing a sharp chunk of metal out and through the space that his head had occupied moments before.

Jimmy slumped down on top of him, small form going limp in his arms. Hector rolled him to the floor and stood, doing a quick scan of the room to make sure nothing was on fire. Alarms had already started ringing; the city inspectors would be arriving in minutes.

“Jimmy!” Hector knelt down and took the young man by the shoulders, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw the kid’s eyes flutter open. “How did you do that?”

“I…used it all. Don’t. Don’t know. Saw it…coming.” Jimmy was having trouble breathing, but didn’t look worse for wear otherwise.

Hector slipped his arms under Jimmy’s shoulders and pulled him out of the room to the main lobby. He didn’t have much time before company would arrive.

“Jimmy, listen,” he said, pulling open the janitor’s closet, “you’ve got to stay in here. Don’t come out – no matter what – until I come and get you, OK?” He pushed Jimmy inside, and the kid fell forward onto a pack of toilet paper, body draped over the plastic surface and arms hanging limply to touch the floor. Good enough.

Locking the door behind him, Hector moved into the entryway just as the first inspector group came through.

“T break,” he said, showing his ID badge to the tall man in front, and pointing to the drug room. “Random. Nobody was hurt.”

They swept past him without a word, and Hector fell in behind them. He’d be expected to remain outside the room while they did their investigation, and answer any questions they put to him. He would – honestly - so long as they stuck to the topic at hand.

Jimmy’s peculiar clairvoyance would just confuse them, and the young man needed time to get himself in order. Hector might have found a way out of the slums for both of them.

- D