James and the Drug Run

It is so early in the morning that the first rays of the sun are just peeking over James’ window.

When he opens his eyes the first thing James sees is his dad holding a suitcase under one arm. His dad is smoking weed. The smoke curls up in front of his face and his eyes look red and watery.

His father throws the suitcase on James’ bed. “Wake up, it’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time for you to go to work.”

James rubs his eyes. He’s so tired he doesn’t know if he’s really awake. Maybe this is a bad dream.

“Open the suitcase, brat.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever the %#@ I wanna call you. Open the suitcase, you got work to do.”

James’ heart pounds, and his stomach starts to hurt. He starts to unzip the suitcase but he has trouble with the zipper.

"Gimme that." His father grabs the suitcase back and yanks the zipper open.

James hopes that this is just a nightmare. He prays that God will wake him up, fast.

Inside the suitcase, he sees plastic bags filled with white powder. There are cigarettes, and bags of weed and pills. So many pills.

“I’m not gonna do it,” James mutters. “I’m sicka doin it and I'm not gonna do it ever again.”

“Look boy, I feed you, I give you clothes, I buy you those $#&@ Nikes you wear, I buy you stuff, I give you a bed to sleep in….now it’s time for you to pay up.”

James sinks back onto his pillow. He thinks about how many days he doesn’t have any food. He thinks about the rats running through the kitchen sometimes at night.

“This crappy house ain’t worth sh()*)(*(*,” he mutters.

His father slaps his face hard. “Watch you mouth boy, “ he says. “You don’t speak that way to me. Now get that butt outta bed and get dressed.”

“I gotta go to school.”

“No you don’t, I given you a day offa school. You got work to do. Now get your butt dressed before I hurt you worse.”

His father leaves the room. James stares at the door. The wooden frame around the door is busted and splintered.

James gets out of bed and carries the suitcase to the open window. He holds it for a second against his chest. Then he tosses it out the window. He grabs his jeans and his black and white T shirt and Nikes and in seconds, he is dressed. Slipping his bookbag on his shoulder, he heads into the hall. His father is watching TV, draped over a ragged chair, the only chair in the room.

“Where’s the suitcase?”

“I got it all here in my bag, like I always do. You think I'm stupid?"

His father inhales more weed.

"Just come back with the money, you hear? I need every bit of it. You spend a penny and you be one sorry ____, you hear?"

"Yeah, I hear alright. Loud and clear."

And that’s how James left home.