Novel Treatments / 5280 Ft.: Chap 2: We often use a Code Name
WE OFTEN USE A CODE NAME
Cody apartment is on 13th and Speer, near the Convention Center. His apartment complex is loaded with young professional singles according to Caleb. He probably makes a lot of money from the stressed out crowd looking to get high, whatever their drug of choice, When I left he was simply selling pot and a little X. Caleb was never into X and it seems he has plenty of weed with him. His new drug must be something harder, probably coke. He always did coke in college. Hell I even did coke now and again in those days. Memories past.
“So this is the place huh?” I ask.
Knowing the answer already. The feeling of being repetitive sours my face.
“Yeah this is where Code Name lives now.” Caleb answers. “He had to move out of his old house a month ago, the landlord was trying to raise his rent.” Caleb uses his hands to articulate the story.
I know why we are here even with Caleb playing off to be a friendly visit. I always liked Cody, he was a good person to hang out with when you needed to talk deeper then the usually dick and fart jokes. He is intelligent and driven to succeed. In the elevator to his floor I think about a conversation we once had, about space and how big it was. The typical stoner talk at a time when being a typical stoner was ok to me. Now I can’t even get high without paranoia and anxiety. My head is pounding. The hallway to Cody’s door reminds me of dormitory, a long thin hallway with pale white walls and brown wooden doors. Some of the tenants actually have dry erase boards on their doors with messages written on them. I laugh as I pass one that says “I’m fucked up, leave a message” on it. I can see being fucked up. I am fucked up, just not on anything but self-loathing. I don’t feel comfortable in the hallway, it is to narrow and my head is still pounding, even harder now. The pot I smoked with Caleb is starting to erupt and I just hold on to the thoughts I have for a few moments at a time. Not too much more thinking. Sop thinking, stop thinking. I haven’t been smoking much in Chicago. The sound of Caleb knocking on the door is loud like a drum thumping in my head. It hurts and I can’t make it stop.
“Are you ok bro?” Caleb checks, his happy smile a reminder.
“Yeah, just give me a second.” I steady myself against the wall.
Cody answers the door wearing black boxer shorts and a white robe. He stands without a word at first, examining who has interrupted his evening.
“Awe dude!!!!” Cody’s reaction stalled. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I’m confused for a moment as to what I am doing hugging. I come to. My neck and back are stiff.
I throw my hands up to meet his embrace. The drugs warping my mind.
“Code name!” I say with a late reaction
“Come in, quickly.” His paranoia leaking as he looks around the hall.
Walking into Cody’s apartment there is a large living room with turntables, a couch, and a kitchen table covered in beer bottles, some weed and a bong. I can breath easy for now. His big screen television has some random hip-hop video on and the counter of his kitchen is filled with junk mail and books. An educated drug dealer with money, could there be anything more intriguing? Maybe I will write a story about it in my free time. The idea is boring and pointless. Above the couch is a giant poster of Bob Marley holding a guitar in one hand and a joint in the other. I have seen the poster a million times in a million different rooms. They might give it out for free when you sign up to deal pot.
“What is fucking up, dude?” Cody asks me as he grabs some beers from his fridge,
“Just the same old things, working in Chicago still. Trying to keep my sanity.” I answer.
The apartment reminds me of my apartment in Chicago. I look around my surroundings identifying the comforts of my own home. I already miss it. I miss my bed, my couch, and my coffee maker. The one purchase I made and have never used. Cody hands me a Coors Light long neck bottle. Looking at the silver label as I untwist the cap. The sharp edge of the bottle caps spears into my skin like tiny knives.
“I was just thinking about you the other day when I was over at the Giggling Grizzly.” Cody goes into a story I can already remember.
A time in my life before I lost everything, when I cared, and when the world seemed ok to be in. I hold on to the bottle tight waiting to hear what I already know.
“Remember that night when you got fucked up and we started a fucking mosh-pit to some random cover band?” He asks as his face lights up with a crooked smile.
“How could I forget.”
“Damn that was a good night.” He finishes his thought.
It is funny because I was so much simpler then, I didn’t think about things or see them for what they were. I always took the freedom for granted. These thoughts turn my stomach. I sit down on Cody’s couch trying to find the remote to the television. Caleb sits at the kitchen table loading a bong with some of the weed that he brought from his truck.
“So what the fuck are two doing here?” Cody asks now lighting a cigarette.
“I was hoping to get some shadow from you” Caleb says from the table.
“Ahh I see, so this isn’t a friendly little get together then. I was thinking you boys wanted to take me out on the town and pick up some girls. I mean it is your fucking homecoming right.” Cody’s attitude changes
Cody walks back from his bedroom with a scale and a brown paper bag. He sets it next to Caleb at the table.
“How much do you want?” He asks looking at Caleb.
“Three grams.” Caleb answers looking at me.
“OK, $80.” Cody sets down his cigarette and begins to measure.
I sit on the couch avoiding the transaction. Drugs never bother me, I was exposed to them at a young age. Our neighborhood in Littleton is loaded with the upper middle class drug fix. I could buy coke easier then I could by a cup of coffee if I wanted to. I gave those things up in college, call it a career decision. Cody walks back to his bedroom with his brown bag, minus the three grams. I turn on a smile when he passes me. Caleb looks up at me from the table like he just found a prize in his new powder. His excitement for the drugs in front of him reminds me of Christmas morning. When you wake up extra early and scramble down the stairs to the bright lights of a Christmas tree loaded with presence. Caleb is 25 years old and the lessons of our youth have passed him by. He is fucked for life. After he blows through his student loan he will probably turn to theft or fraud. I don’t say anything, just smile and nod to him. A silent congratulations on your purchase look. I don’t give a shit if he does all if that coke right now. He will try and pressure me into doing it with him.
“Hey JK, you wanna get into it?” he asks as he points to a crisp line.
I must be psychic.
His face is bright red like has been holding his breath. I sit in silence for a moment contemplating my options.
1. Do coke with Caleb, flip out and loose my composure, cry like a baby when I am haunted by the memories of my mothers death and the broken heart I haven’t dealt with since I left Denver.
2. Smack Caleb around and tell him he doesn’t need this shit anymore.
3. Pass on the coke and save my sanity, if only for one more day.
I shake me head no and Caleb dives into the line of coke with a rolled $1.00 bill. I will just have another beer, maybe a bong hit too. As I get up from the couch Cody emerges from his room dressed to in faded jeans and a black Ralph Lauren Polo Shirt.
“You guys want to go downtown and have some drinks?” He asks
Caleb rubs his gums with the remaining coke from the table.
“Yeah lets go,” I answer. “Can I leave my bags here?”
‘Sure, you can crash here later if you want.” Cody says, running his hands through his long surfer hair.
Caleb pockets the small plastic bag of coke and stands up from the table, his face still red.
“I’ll drive, I don’t want Caleb crashing his truck into something.” Cody laughs patting Caleb on the chest.
“If we are rolling downtown then I need to borrow some jeans.” Caleb explains
“Alright, look in my closet.” Cody says taking a look into the refrigerator. “Make it fast, I want to get something to drink and look at some ladies.”
The inside of Cody’s Tahoe smells like fresh baby powder. The black leather seats are shinny. The carpet is custom mustard yellow that he probably traded drugs for. Who the fuck gets yellow mustard carpet? I guess that Cody always did have strange taste in things. I saw him wear a purple suit to prom. I mean fucking purple! Pimps do that. We went to an upper class high school. Oh well, it’s his car. There are three screens inside with a row of 12-inch subwoofers in the back. If I were a drug dealer this is the kind of ride I would probably have. Only I wouldn’t get mustard colored carpet. Cody and I talk about his new business venture as we drive to the strip, something about a wine store that would only sell rare bottles of wine to rich people. He mentions he got the idea from some girl he hooked up with that had a wine cellar in here basement. The idea is just another dream. Cody’s wealth and knowledge could make the dream a reality. I admire his business sense. He provides an illegal service, but he runs the business correctly. He keeps a low profile and goes to school during the day. I look back at Caleb in the back seat. He sits in the back smoking a cigarette and nodding his head to the beat of the song we listen to, I turn my head to him again, taking a second look. His laid back attire still makes no sense to me. I guess if I were still into doing drugs and didn’t have a job I would be wearing the same outfit. House shoes may even become the everyday shoe. I’m tempted to call him out on his casual footwear but it isn’t worth my time. I fell my cell phone vibrate in my pocket and I pull it out to check who it is. I don’t recognize the number so I hit ignore. It’s a 303 area code, Denver metro. It is possible that the number belongs to Shelby. I don’t know what her new cell phone number is. I don’t fell like asking Caleb for it. He would only make me feel guilty and give me shit until I leave on Sunday. Forget it, if she wants to talk she will leave a message. The lights of the Denver Convention Center are bright, like I remember, even on a Tuesday night with no events. The creepy statues out front give me something to look at but provide no inspiration like they were designed to. All I can think about is Shelby and how much I want to see her, though I am scared. If there were just a way I could watch her from afar and not talk to her then I would do it. I could be a spy or private eye, grow a mustache and get some dark black shades. I would follow her around and wait for a moment to muster up the courage to confront her. Knowing her like I do she would flip out and accuse me of being crazy. I’m not entirely sure that I am not already.
“Altitude huh?” He says pointing to the sky. “It’s a bitch.”
Market Street looks dead, everyone walking the streets look cheap or homeless. The neon signs cover the bar fronts. A two for one-drink specials catches Cody’s eye. It is at The Wash, a carwash themed bar that has a skinny brown haired server standing at the door. Her high skirt the main attraction. Caleb is still smoking as we pulled into the parking lot. I look out the window for a moment to take a few moments. Looking into the corner of the side view mirror, Caleb gazing into space becomes my focal point. What could he be thinking right now? Drugs? Pussy? Both? I can’t figure out why I am here. Drinking doesn’t help me forget anything. It makes me depressed, angry. Anytime I put alcohol into my body I believe I am turning more and more into my father. Then the memories of my youth attack me like bees and wasps, stinging my arms and legs. One night in Chicago I became to drunk to remember where I was. I woke up in my work clothes on the floor of my apartment with no idea how I got there. The next day I though a lot about my mom and how she dealt with my fathers so many times in that situation. I can’t be that man. I will drink anyways fuck it. This is a vacation of sorts. I keep picturing that sign from the airport, “Welcome to Denver, the Mile High City”. I should have turned around and left right then and there. An image of Ian’s reminding me of my promise crosses my mind. I shake my head yes silently, I hope no one is watching. Sitting up in the seat I take a deep breath. I open the door and start to walk towards the bar, certain I will lose all judgment. The nervous in my body begin to swell walking to the bar’s entrance, the unknown playing trick on my mind. I look at every girls face with dark hair on the street. I am certain one will see Shelby. I can’t see her I am not ready. I haven’t had the chance to prepare. I only need a few more days to think of what to say, what to do. I haven’t heard her voice in what seems like forever. I am obsessed. Fuck! I need to stop this madness. Maybe I should have done the coke. I can still ask Caleb. We could sneak into the bathroom and do a few lines, laugh about some dumb fucking joke then do a few more. No I am ok. I tell my self I am ok. I need to stop and breath. I hold on to the railing of the entrance to The Wash and take a few breaths to myself. Cody pats me on the back as he walks past me.
It seems that anytime I have to pull out my ID from my wallet the pictured looks less like me and more like some jerk off. I’m getting older and I hate that idea. I am twenty-six now and I have been out of college for three years. Three years of the real world. I don’t treat it like it is real. I pretend most of it and deal with what remains. I don’t seem to fell any different other then that lack of free time and the massive amounts of work I am always doing. I lie to myself sometimes, even in my mind. I know I am older and I can see myself heading down the far path towards death. Slowly fading away like the sunset into the mountains. I look at the doorman he looks like someone I have seen before at another bar. Maybe he was in school with me. I shrug and decided I don’t know him. Caleb grabs his wallet out of his back pocket and drops it like it shocked him with a little electric jolt. His eyes are blood shot and he is clearly fucked up right now. I only hope the doorman lets him in. A young girl in the doorway looks at his distraught face, she knows what Cody and I know. She gets trapped in the moment I guess, she doesn’t flinch when we walk in front of her and doesn’t make an attempt to stopping Caleb from entering. I pass by her once again, her beautiful eyes catch mine and we share energy. I want her to be clever I need the assurance that she has personality. I’m not surprised when she doesn’t. Another bar flame slowly burning out, in five years she will be tarnished and alone or dating a junky. The comforts of bad karma make me smile. I order three shots of whiskey and I pull out my wallet to pay. Cody grabs my hand as I reach for my debt card. He pays with cash that is already out and then hands Caleb a shot. I nod my head at him as we all place our hands in the air with the full shot glasses, the brown liquid splashing around my hand. Cody makes a toast, something about us being back together like old times. I drink my shot quickly and slam the glasses onto the bar. The noise it makes is hollow, like I feel. My two friend go up the stairs that lead to a patio bar, fucking smoking band has altered the bar scene. I decide to take a piss before I join them, the only bathroom is on the bottom floor. I look over my shoulder watching Caleb stumble up the stairs and Cody try to steady him. Caleb has fallen deeper then I thought.
Pissing into a giant urinal and reading the billboards at eye makes me laugh out loud. The trashy shit that people purpose to you in the ads are so random. There is a picture of “Dog the Bounty Hunter” on one. His fried blonde hair has seashells dangling from it. These moments of personal laughter come in waves. An ad about dating quickly brings back Shelby. I miss her dark black hair and big eyes. Her ability to look into my eyes and focus me into believing anything that she said. It was kinetic, magical at times. I waited all my life for someone who could give me that feeling. The one I found crushed me, I never crushed her back though, I just couldn’t do it. Maybe it was due to my mother’s death. I was weak then, much like I am now. I have so much to say to her, questions only she could answer. I brush it off and redirect my attention to where I am and what I am doing. I check my pants to make sure I didn’t leak on them. Washing my hands I look down at my pants again. They feel wet but I don’t see anything. I look in the mirror at the three-day scruffy beard wrapped around my chin. I fell a sick from the shot, I wish that I had some Vicadine or Oxy to calm this anxiety. I check my cell phone before I walk out into the bar and I don’t have any calls. I try to call Ian but it goes straight to his voicemail. I really miss him. I run my fingers though my hair and walk out of the swinging door into the dim lit bar. I think about my pants again, noting is there.
The patio on top of The Wash is a large rooftop with a long bar that sits along the western wall. The edge of the roof over looks most of the 14th Street block. The walls, like at most bars, are covered with flyers of up coming events and graffiti. My two companions sit at round table without chairs. Cody is smoking a cigarette and Caleb is talking to a young waitress who is wearing mini skirt and a pair of tights. She has blonde hair and tan skin, her smile is beautiful. She laughs at something Caleb whispers to her. One of those fake laughs that shows she is flirty. Caleb is really messed up, I can’t imagine what he has to say that would be of interest to this young beauty. There is a pitcher of beer on the table filled half way. I assume Coors but it could easily be Bud Light. There are three glasses next to the pitcher and Cody is working on filling one up for me. A conversation to my left catches my attention for a moment as I hear “worlds apart” from a couple of girls wearing shorts and tank tops. I think for a moment, paused in my steps. I make my way to the table Cody has a distilled look on his face. Who knows what he is thinking. Caleb is still talking to the beautiful waitress. Doesn’t she have tables to wait on? She smiles and nods to acknowledge my presence. I grab my beer from the table and lean against the round table. I turn towards the girls in the tank tops. They are shallow, their eyes tell no lies.
“How is the city looking so far?” Cody asks
“It is all the same, I think I appreciate it a little more now that I am back from Chicago” I reply sipping my beer. I don’t really care. The pain the city brings me is uncomfortable. I wish I could share with Cody but I am scared. I am so nervous for some reason and I can’t calm myself down. It’s like I want a confrontation with someone.
“It is the same, urban sprawl. No one ever goes, they always come.” Cody walks towards me and leans in.
“This place will never change.” He whispers grabbing his cell phone.
“Have you been seeing anyone lately?” I ask
Cody adjusts his pocket as he drinks from his glass slowly.
“Nah, not really. Here and there I will see a few girls for a while. Nothing serious.” He twirls his finger in the air.
“I know what you mean, I have the same situation in Chicago. I haven’t really met anyone that I can say I have connected with.”
“It’s just crazy to me,” Cody says. “Ian of all people getting married. He was probably the last one I would ever think to get serious with a girl.” Cody finishes his beer. I look off into the distance and close my eyes. How hard would it have been for me to be in the same place as Ian? I was in love. I was engaged. I even thought it would work out. Silly me.
The semester had just begun and I realized how much I loved college. Ian and I had settled into out dorm room at school and we were playing some football game on Playstation. Madden I think. I had a pretty good lead on him in this particular game and he wasn’t too happy about it. My cell phone was ringing on my dresser so I got up and went to grab it. It was my Shelby. She was still in high school and I hadn’t talked to her in probably three days. A long stint for us, normally we spoke daily. As I talked to her Ian sat in the distance making faces at me and laughing at the expressions I made while talking to my girlfriend. I told her I loved her after our short conversation. Ian started to poke fun at me telling me I was soft and that I was whipped. I laughed it off as he stood there and explained how much he would hate to have a committed relationship. “All women are good for is pussy. Most times that isn’t even good.” Ian said. His face was stone cold. It was like a girl had ripped his heart in half once and he never forgave her or any women since. I thought nothing of that day and I never though of it over the next few years when he didn’t date anyone seriously. Then he met Celeste. He never brought her around our group of friends. Perhaps he knew that I would bring up his statements. I wouldn’t have but I know he would point it out later and tell me to never say a word of it.
The roof of The Wash on a summer night is normally a good time. I still don’t feel well, the nervous stress has taken over my body. My vision is blurred, my voice is rasping from the cigarettes, and my speech is useless. The altitude of being in the place where I grew to be a man is wearing me down. I can only take half breaths, a full one makes me dizzy.
Cody puts his hand on my back, “How are you feeling?”
“I will be ok, I just need to sit down.” I say stumbling into a chair.
“Caleb is going to wait here for this waitress to get off, you want to get a cab back to my place?” Cody was clearly taking care of me.
“Sure.”
I stumble my way down the passage to the main floor a vision of my mother pops into my head. I feel the tears boiling in my eyes and I have to close them long enough to find my way outside. The cool breeze touches my face and I breathe it in as deep as I can. I cough up some nasty shit and spit on the street while Cody hails a cab. The last thing I see is a maple leaf air freshener and a box of tissues.
Sex with Shelby was good. She was a giver. Lying next to her naked body and kissing her gently was my favorite part. I would hold her close to me and we would lock eyes. Sure we didn’t have much in common. Her goal in life was to be a trophy wife that never had to work a day in her life. I wanted to be the man who funded her quest. Sometimes I would kid with her and say that I wanted to drop out of college and live of her parent’s generous allowance. She never found it funny. Some nights were a lot nicer then others. We would make dinner and pretend to be an old married couple. I would tell her that her ass was worth a million dollars and she would say that mine was useless, joking of course. Our favorite show was Six Feet Under and we discussed every new episode for hours. I never took much interest in her obsession with the character of David. She just seemed to see something in him that she could relate to. When she started to grow distant from me towards the end of our relationship I just figured it was cold feet and she would get over it. I couldn’t have been more incorrect. I almost cried watching the final show alone.
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Cody apartment.. Cody’s
professional singles according.. Comma after singles
seems he has plenty of weed.. I’m wondering why seems? Did he see it, smell it?
His new drug must be something harder.. right after this you say he used to do a lot of coke in college. So that wouldn’t strike me as being his new thing. Maybe just falling back into old habbits. Unless his new drug to sell is something harder, something that brings him more money maybe ?
I ask.
Knowing the answer already. I would join this with “I ask” or somehow with the following sentence. Maybe.. I asked, knowing the answer already.
Caleb uses his hands.. the way this is written it’s almost like reading a play.
Alice enters
“ where is the beef.” If you follow what I’m saying. Maybe something like.. Caleb answered, using his hands to articulate the story
I don’t feel comfortable in the hallway.. here you are telling us instead of showing us and it gets a little grinding on the nerves. How about.. A feeling of uneasiness starts to settle around me as we go down the hall. I know I’m changing the tense of what you re writing in but I almost think you have to. We want to walk with the character, almost in their shoes, so to say, and it’s a little hard when the conversations seem here and now but the descriptions all seem to be in the past tense but aren’t. Does that make any sense?
I saw plenty of other areas to comment on but the review was getting a little big. A lot of commas are missing etc. I have that problem. As a reader I never felt anything for the characters. Personally if any of them would have jumped off a cliff I wouldn’t have cared. I would try one instead of telling us about the characters showing us who they are. Help us bond with them. Your dialog was good, that I applaud you on as I suffer horribly there.
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I like it. Sounds good.
“Sex with Shelby was good. She was a giver. Lying next to her naked body and kissing her gently was my favorite part.”
so i think you need to be subtle and also what is with the name Shelby. Think of something sexier.
Couple of things I really loved. On is the line about drugs and the career choice. Another was the convention center creepy statue. And that is only because that damn bear freaks me out every time I pass it…
I like how you moved into the back-story with Ian and with Shelby. Most times, that’s a hard thing to move into effectively, but I think you did a real good job.
Okay, now for the rough:
Again, tense and dialogue punctuation, but I understand that you didn’t have a chance to revise since my last review.
I really like who you stick inside the narrator’s head. I also like how you move the plot via dialogue, rather than telling me what happens.
I found quite a few minor grammar things, and it was only a skim through because I found myself focusing on the story, but you did mention editing.
Here they are:
Hell(,) I even did coke
Memories past. = fragment that adds nothing.
Knowing the answer already. = same here.
talk deeper(,) then
floor(,) I think about
some weed(,) and a bong. I
Looking at the silver label as I untwist the cap = reads better, . Looking at the silver label, I…
never bother me,(;) I was exposed to
his student loan(,) he will
Yeah(,) lets(let’s) go,”
Cody says(,) taking a look
I will drink anyways(,) fuck it
I look at the doorman(,) he looks like
eyes catch mine(,) and we
my hands(,) I look down
Sure(,) we didn’t have much
Just as an aside, when the shot makes him sick you mention Oxy. I think you might be better served using Diazepam or valium or such, since you are talking about taking the edge off, rather than, getting way jacked up on Oxy and alcohol. Just a thought.
Anyways, nice chapter.
Grammatically your style is sound, even if it can be overly simplistic at times. It helps for realism, especially considering the dialogue, but it may bore the reader without a change of pace at the very least.
The only errors I can find are more typographical errors on common words that you probably didn’t catch when glancing back over it, or the occasional sentence that seems as if it could be cut out (this would help with making it more succinct.)
The black leather seats are shinny.
I’m sure you can see the improper word there without me pointing it out. For a hint, it’s at the very end of the line.
The carpet is custom mustard yellow that he probably traded drugs for.
Lines like this are boring. This one in particular mentions setting details that are also covered in two other sentences. Both of those in consideration, this little sentence really isn’t a necessity and could be cut. It helps even more when you consider that the paragraph it came from is already quite sizeable.
Simple is good, but in some cases it may be better if you make it a little fanciful…it’s just -too- real is what I’m trying to say. Maybe it’s just me. If you’re not gonna’ spruce it up in that respect, then spruce it down when it comes to length.
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