Her feet shuffled in their place. It was a new pack, still firm to the touch. Thumping on the broad side of her left palm, she saw views of glistening cellophane that twinkled in the light. She unwound the silver lining, unfurled the top of the box, and coaxed the sweet little cylinder out from its hiding place. Lorraine raised the cigarette to her chapped lips, and struck a match. She had a lighter in her car but couldn’t find it, so she was using a book of matches she snagged from her last stay at a motel. At first strike, it made a perfect little flame, the scent of sulfur shifted in the misty autumn air. She inhaled; feeling the warmth penetrate deeper and deeper, fingers of smoke massaging her, caressing her until ‘whoosh!’ She exhaled; watching it all flow out in a lovely sinuous cloud, no two ever quite the same.
Lorraine set back on a picnic table that was under the tent, looking east toward the airfield. A train’s whistle blew; at about four miles away, the train can be heard clearly but at a drawn out delay. The two short blasts meant it was the passenger train that came through town twice a day. She crossed her legs, and puffed on her cigarette again. A slight wind came in, brushing against her coarse brown hair. Most of the grey strands came from when her son was deployed overseas. Having been home now for about two years, Luke was now working in HVAC and volunteered with the Fire Department.
“You still smoke Reds?” Bob asked, ducking into the smoker’s oasis.
“Yeah…I had some Menthols last week but I couldn’t keep up.” Lorraine was sliding over to give Bob some room on the bench. She slipped him a cigarette, which is against the advice of Bob’s doctor and against the orders of Bob’s wife but it was a secret precisely so that wouldn’t be a problem.
“How’s your boy doin?” Bob inquired, still reeling from that first glorious intake after what was an excruciating three days without a smoke.
“Oh he’s alright. He’s working a lot of hours, trying to change his days off to Sundays so he can come with me to church.” Lorraine was delighted at this prospect, feeling especially glad that Luke was making an effort to see her and comfort her.
“I was worried that he would go in the Marines and come out a changed man, more of a hard ass. Like his daddy. But when he came home, and I thank God almighty that he did, Luke was more grounded.” Lorraine paused briefly, realizing that her smoking partner saw the worst of the shit and is also very down to Earth.
“Well…” Bob sighed, “being a Jarhead sure straightened me the fuck out.”
Lorraine laughed, took one last pull on her Marlboro before tossing it in the bucket in the corner.
“Hey.” Lorraine crossed her arms and shifted toward Bob, “So what’s this guy’s deal?”
“Brady? No, Brandon.” Bob was dusting off the memory from a few minutes ago. “Yeah he, uhh. Well his sister died. About this time last year, and he came back to spend some time in the area I think.”
Lorraine asked the all-important question, “How did she die?”
Bob could only reply what he knew, “He said it was drug related.”
“Oh no,” Lorraine was shaking her head, “God Bless her. I heard on the news about the Heroin out here. People start on these prescriptions and get addicted overnight. Heroin is filling the gap.”
“I don’t know if it was Heroin” Bob lamented.
“Well, what else could it be?” Lorraine was confused, she had it figured out.
“I don’t know,” Bob was emphatic, “all he said was she died and it was drug related.”
“She must have overdosed then. It must be so hard for him to talk about, that’s why he says it like that. That poor thing. Frank McAllister on channel 6 said that you can get Heroin faster than you can get a pizza.” Lorraine was saddened by this but decided to adjust her mood. She put her cigarettes back into her purse, and glanced at Bob to see if he was done smoking.
“If these kids would lay off the hard shit they could probably change the world,” Bob said as he stood up. “But, let’s see how that card game is going and maybe we can sit in a hand.”
Bob held open the door for Lorraine and they returned to find Brandon talking to Kevin up at the bar. They seemed to be getting on well. Kathy was talking to Sam, a new addition since the smoke break. Sam was short for Samantha, and she worked in the Dialysis Center at the hospital. Sam is very familiar with Lorraine; she was a warm and comfortable presence that helped make Larry’s last few days a little easier.
“Hey lady, how you doin’?” Sam said to Lorraine from across the bar, a casual attempt at starting a new conversation that didn’t revolve around Kathy.
“I’m doing okay,” she replied. “Keeping myself busy.” Sam put her hand on Lorraine’s back and rubbed softly.
“That’s great. Busy is good. You call me if you need anything, but staying busy is one of the best ways to move through grief.” Sam was confident in this assertion.
“You are so right Sam,” Kathy agreed. “When my Grandma died, it was in the middle of my senior year cheer season. It was tough, but I think one of the reasons I made it through was because of those girls. And, of course, those boys on the field.” Kathy smiled wide with her eyes closed, showing a glimmer of lust for her glory days.
Kevin came along and grabbed a cocktail that was just melted ice and a wedge of lime; “Refill?”
Lorraine looked up at the clock before responding, it was only 8:30. “Yes, please. Oh and could you bring a cold rag for Kathy? She’s about to start speaking in tongues.”
The three girls laughed together before Kathy could interject, “I mean you girls laugh, but I was a star athlete. And I had certain standards I needed to live up to. There were some expectations of me.” Kathy was being intentionally crude. As the youngest one of the bunch, it never hurt to rub it in.
“Yeah I’m sure it was tough giving so much head between practice and the football game.” Lorraine was over it at this point, “That just leaves you such a small time frame to have worked with. How did you do it?”
“Oh…just like this,” Kathy gestured to Kevin with her French-manicured hand, “Can I get a shot of Patron, with a lime and salt please?”
Lorraine rolled her eyes, and Sam was laughing as she took off her coat. “You enjoy that one girl,” Lorraine readjusted back to Brandon. He was nearing the end of his drink.
“Where did Mary Beth and Patty go?” Lorraine wondered.
“Oh, they took off. We only played to five points instead of ten. Mary Beth seemed a little tired,” Brandon responded.
“Oh no, honey. See that only means that you were better then she expected, she ended the game early so you would take pity on the old bat.” Lorraine was very matter of fact with her Vodka gimlet in tow. She tilted back toward Brandon on her bar stool and started the uncomfortable conversation.
“Bob was telling me about your sister,” Lorraine spoke softly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” Brandon hunched over the bar. “It was really unexpected. I was too sad for too long not to get to find out…” Brandon drifted momentarily, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I just need closure.”
“I understand,” Lorraine assured. “When my husband died, I needed the closure of a funeral. I needed the casket to be open, it’s important to the process.” Trying not to be indelicate but finding no better way to do it then to just blurt it out, Lorraine said; “was it Heroin?”
“No,” Brandon said, “well, at least I don’t think so. She was found dead in an abandoned house, not far from here actually. The toxicology report showed opiates in her system but even that can’t be trusted.”
“I’m sorry honey. That’s just terrible. But why wouldn’t you trust the coroner? He has no reason to lie.”
“He certainly has a reason to lie, I just don’t know what it is yet. Heroin is a simple answer for an unexplainable death. And my sister would not do heroin, she was a mother of two.” Brandon stopped short, a tear rolled down his cheek. He sniffled “…she is a mother of two.”
Lorraine was aghast. He thinks she was murdered. Is heroin that taboo, the family won’t even admit to it? She tried to start anew, “It’s important to remember how she lived, not how she died.”
Brandon drained the rest of his Manhattan. He already had paid his tab and left a handsome tip for Kevin on the counter. As he stood up, he looked at Lorraine and said, “It was nice meeting you.” He gave a big wave to Kevin, and got an over-the-top hug from Kathy.
“You gonna be in town for a while?” Kevin asked.
“Probably a few days. I’m staying in town at the Oakmont motel,” Brandon said.
“Yikes!” Lorraine reacted, “that dump?”
Brandon laughed it off, “yea, well I’ll see you guys. I have an early morning.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday?” Bob was in the mix now, just as confused as the rest of them.
“Yea, I have some people I need to see. But uhh, will the game be on here tomorrow? Green Bay plays Atlanta at one o’clock.”
“You bet,” Kevin was smiling wide. “We have it on the big screen and make popcorn and everything.”
“Nice,” Brandon said with glee. “I got money on the game. Take care everybody.”
The crowd shouted back with a resounding “You Too!”
Lorraine went outside to have another cigarette. Her last one before bed. She sat on the bench and looked east again, feeling a bit colder now then she was before. A brisk wind caught her off guard and knocked the cigarette out of her hand. It fell on the cold, muddy floor of the tent and was instantly soaked in a puddle. She was pissed at first, but then she remembered that cigarettes kill you and she should stop anyway. But for a moment, a brief moment, she stood and thought of her man Larry. And what he might have thought of Brandon. What would he have said in the car on the ride home? What is the next move for that poor, troubled boy? Lorraine watched the last faint glimmer of the cigarette go out, and saw the smoke swirl out and away.
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