A matter of addiction

A

Artsydaze

Guest
Original poster
The docks were cold on this November night, the wooden planks frozen over and covered with a slippery film of cold water, making the simple act of walking potentially fatal for wanderers. Even in this late hours, the great amalgam of piers and fish stall was busy, dockers and sailors lauding wares for many a ship's next voyages at the same time that fishermen prepared for their next day of labour. Shipping and fishing were not the only thing making the dreary corner of the port city busy however, as any types of wares were exchanged for currencies. From food to prostitutes, everything could be found in the docks.

One of those wares were the newest cheap drug on the market, called Siren. Jack was a dealer of the thing, even though he never touched it, as the thing gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his guts. He preferred his mind clear and sharp, thank you! He'll stick to cigarettes.

The young man was leaning on the cold, wet brick wall of a local brothel as he waited for the next sucker willing to buy the wretched stuff from his hands and buy him a night of pleasure in the process. One had to find wealth wherever one could reach for it, after all... Burrowing further into his coat, he made sure that his bright blond hair war hidden under his fedora hat as he warmed himself with a long drag from his cheap cigarette, the only brand he could afford. Selling cheap drugs did not make him rich, to his great damn.

It was better than becoming a thug, in any case.

'Ah, another sucker' Jack thought with a smirk as he saw one of his regulars approach.
 
The sound of a creak from one of the wooden planks echoed through the busy pier, turning the heads of those close enough to hear. A regular of the pier, named Roy, even caught a glimpse of one of the prostitutes by the brothel. She smelled of a thick mustiness with a hint of the ocean salt strong enough to waft into his nostrils as he walked by her. The piece of tail was easy on the eyes, but he pitied the next man to go down on her. She winked at him and giggled; then, like a true lady, she unabashedly rubbed her ample breasts and licked her plump, wine red lips at him. Her little display of voluptuous behavior was enough to make blood rush between his legs. It was unfortunate, though, as he only had just enough money for another sinful vice.

"Jack," he said like a harsh whisper through the upturned collar of his trench coat.

Smoke from a cheap cigarette hung in the air between the two men. It was the short moment of the night when the land and water were at equal temperatures. Only the slightest breeze disturbed the smoke.

"Tomorrow is her maiden voyage. The crew will set out at about 5 o'clock," he casually said. He then stuck a hand into the inside pocket of his coat. In his hand was a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. "Looks 'ta me like ya need another cigarette." He flipped the top of the pack open with a calloused thumb. Inside were a few Lucky Strike cigarettes and a folded five dollar bill. It was all code. Whatever time of day was mentioned was how much someone had to pay. Next, they were to offer a cigarette. If the dealer agreed, then one would hand over the money instead of the cigarette.

 
With a last pull of his cigarette, Jack chuckled, a dark sound in an equally dark night. Spitting the stick to the grimy floor, he smothered the embers of the stick on his heel before smiling and nodding.

"'F course, I sure hope the sirens will not get her crew, it would be too bad for such a fine specimen!" The man responded, a small blue envelope hidden in his long coat sleeves appearing in his pale hand as he exchanged it for the bill. That code was nearly too obvious, with the name of the drug and all, but it always worked as the cops never caught on to it's name.

Jack dealt all type of drugs, but this Siren stuff was selling like no tomorrow since the Prohibition and the Aryan man never said no to profit of any kind. Especially easy one like this one! Subtly putting the five dollar bill in his pocket, he pulled another cheap cigarette and took it between his pale lips, lighting it up with an equally cheap match from a matchbox he brought the night before.

"Anything new?" He asked, another code, this one asking if any other ware caught his client'S fancy tonight.
 
"I got nothin' to flap my gums about."

Roy tipped his hat at the young paraphernalia dealer, jammed the small envelope into a pocket and swiftly began the trek back home.


The sound of a new Model A Ford Coupe's engine could be heard pulling into the dirt-path driveway of a countryside home. Its headlights flashed around the edges of closed curtains in the windows. From the second story, a silhouette of an hourglass-esque figure pulled back one of the curtains. The light revealed the face of a beautiful and glowing woman. With a quick flash of a smile she closed the curtain and scurried downstairs.

Roy took a deep breath, securing the envelope inside his pocket again as he shut the car door behind him. The front door of the house opened and the woman emerged. With excitement she smiled at him and fixed her hair. He approached her with open arms and wrapped them around her petite body. She giggled warmly and reached up, taking off his hat.

"Oh, Roy! I missed you. Did you stay after work again tonight?"

The two began to walk toward the house.

He kept one arm around her waist and answered, "You can bet'cher bottom dollar I did, June."

Once more she giggled and rested her head against his chest for a moment. "Any more late nights and we'll finally be able to afford one of those new picture boxes!"

Guilt filled his conscious as he observed her innocence. She really believed what he told her. The two continued to talk throughout the evening until they headed upstairs to bed. June sat at her vanity in her night gown taking off her jewelry and pinning her hair up for the night. Roy sat in the armchair in the corner of the room smoking his pipe. He stared at his trench coat hanging on the back of the bedroom door then looked at June. As she sat there, the lights around the vanity lit up her face like an angel with the dark trench coat in the background. He thought about his wife and how he'd been keeping the drug a secret from her. He loved her dearly and with all his heart. Why he even started the drug was unclear to him now. What more could a man want? He had a home of his own, an automobile, a job, and a loving wife.

"June..." he exhaled with a breath of smoke.

She turned around in her seat and looked at him with her doe eyes. "Yes, Roy?"

He wrapped his hand around the pipe and paused. All he could do was gaze at her as his mind flooded with guilt. His hand fidgeted with the pipe.

"Roy."

She smiled at him; and before he could say anything else, she turned off the vanity lights and glided over to his side. Her silk gown glistened in the low light of the room like a pearl. The soft downy of the bed cushioned her as she sat on its edge.