| The Most Insidious Kind |
| By Artemis |
| Part 4 |
| By some miracle, Borya managed to find his way back to his house. Realizing his father was likely waiting up for him, he split up the drugs, putting half into each pocket so as to make them less conspicuous. He rubbed his eyes, which felt like they were on fire and were likely very red. "Maybe I should go in the back door," he mumbled to himself, glad he had had his keys in his pocket when he had run out of the house. He went to the back and peeked in the window, seeing no sign of his father. He gingerly unlocked the door and went in, but as soon as he shut it her heard footsteps and turned to come face-to-face with his father. "Dad! I--" "Where have you been?" Dima demanded. "I've been worried sick about you! Who knows what could have happened! But at least you are all right. But what happened to your eyes? They're as red as a Soviet flag!" Dima paused long enough to allow his son to explain. "I got lost, Dad," Borya said. "It took me forever to find my way back. As for my eyes, I was running and tripped into some sort of bush. Since then they've been itchy. It's probably a mild allergy or something." He hesitated, hoping his father would believe the story, then continued, "I want to say that I'm sorry, Dad. I've had plenty of time to think about it, and maybe it isn't so bad here after all." Dima smiled and hugged his son. "I just knew you would come around, Borya." He continued to talk, but Borya hardly heard a word he was saying; his mind was now too focused on the fact that he desperately needed another pill, but he didn't dare do drugs in front of his father. He had paid good money for these, and he didn't want them taken away, especially so soon. He found himself wondering who the mysterious man had been. If he didn't even know Ratman's (as he had come to think of him) identity, how was he to get more Bliss when this supply ran out? But that was a long way off. He shouldn't worry about that. All he needed was just one pill to ease the pain. "Borya!" He was jerked out of his thoughts as his father shook him by the shoulders, looking concernedly at him. "Huh?" "Are you all right, Borya? You're not paying attention to a word I'm saying. You're not hurt, are you?" Borya took a deep breath, realizing as he tried to fight off the pain racking every cubic millimeter of his body that his bangs must be covering the cut on his forehead. "Look, Dad, I'm feeling pretty tired, so I'm going to go to bed, OK?" Looking somewhat relieved that his son was merely tired and not hurt, Dima said, "All right. You'll feel better in the morning, no doubt." And without staying to hear if his father had anything more to say, Borya turned and ran upstairs and shut his door with a slam, leaving Dima to wonder at his strange behavior. As soon as he got in his room and locked the door, Borya pulled all of the pills out of his pockets, most of them falling onto his carpet. He dropped to the floor, frantically grabbing a pill and swallowing it, shifting to a sitting position as a feeling of tranquility swept over him, and he crawled onto his bed, thinking he would soon fall asleep, but he found he couldn't drift off until nearly dawn. * * * Borya soon discovered that it was quite easy to get in touch with Ratman (who, as it turned out, was actually named Verminous Skumm), and it in fact seemed more like Skumm had found him. The very next day, Borya was approached by the dealer. Skumm introduced him to some other users, kids his age who welcomed Borya into their group. For the first time since coming to America he felt truly accepted by kids who were just like him. Skumm then showed him where his usual hideout was. "If you ever need more Bliss, just come on by. I'm making more all the time. However," Skumm added, "you'd better make sure you have the cash to pay for it. I can't afford to give this stuff out for free. Bad for business, you know." At home, Borya wasn't certain if his father was noticing anything or not. Surely he was seeing just how late Borya would stay out, usually attending raves or simply hanging out with the guys, yet so far he had not mentioned anything. Then one night, as Borya was coming in at about three in the morning, he found his father waiting up for him. "We need to talk," Dima said. "Not now, Dad. I've got a headache." "You sit yourself down, Boris Dimitrovich Ivanov. I do not approve of your staying up so late like this. School begins tomorrow; it's your senior year! How are you ever going to get up on time? I thought you were more responsible than this." He signed and walked to the other side of the room. "What happened to the Borya who would never have stayed out like this, who would have gone to bed extra early just to be able to make a good impression on the first day? I'm glad you've found some friends, but I'm not sure they're a good influence on you." He turned to face his son again. "Is it the move? You seemed so happy a few days ago." "Dad, the move's fine. I'm okay with it, really." As he spoke Borya tried to think fast, but the lingering effects of his latest hit of Bliss were hampering him. "I, uh, just haven't been feeling well lately." Then it hit him. As a child he had been excellent at faking colds whenever he hadn't felt like going to school. "I think I might be getting sick; my throat has been hurting since yesterday." Dima frowned. "That's no excuse for your behavior, though. Hopefully you will be well enough to go to school tomorrow. Imagine missing your very first day of school in a new country." "I hope not to, Dad," Borya lied, glad that he now had an excuse to stay home tomorrow while his dad was at work. Maybe he could even sneak out and meet his friends, who he was sure would be playing hooky. "May I go to bed now?" "All right," said Dima, "but think about what I've said. I'm worried about you." Borya nodded and trudged upstairs. Closing his door and pulling his stash from his pocket, he noted with dismay that he had maybe twenty pills left. He groaned as he then realized he had no money with which to buy more. He had spent all $500 some of the money for his trip with Vanya on clubbing and Bliss. Was he really taking that much of it? Figuring he'd worry about that when he finally did run out, he swallowed three of the pills and went to bed. Part 5 |