Now Leasing
Ronnie chuckled as he pointed the ember end of the cigarette towards the tent with the ‘Now Leasing’ sign. “Jimmy never missed an opportunity to get a laugh. He was a good salesman too. He probably could have been a good real-a-tor.”
Holding his cigarette between his index and middle fingers, Beeno looked puzzled. “Real-a-tor? I thought it was pronounced real-ter?”
“Who cares man. That guy saved my life.”
“Really? What happened?”
Six months before high school graduation, I overdosed and almost died. My dad had lost his job and was drinking heavier than usual. We didn’t need another setback after losing my mom earlier that year. I guess he was dealing with his own depression, so he didn’t realize I was sliding out of control.
I started with Special K just to escape. Then, I started taking G just to remember what happiness felt like. My grades slipped. I didn’t care. What was the point of being a straight A student if mom wasn’t there to see. What was the point of taking the SAT if dad couldn’t pay for college. I didn’t care. Dad numbed his pain with alcohol. I painted over mine with G.
I would cut class, take some G and just walk around. That’s how I met Jimmy. He was standing there holding an empty Gatorade bottle as his microphone.
“Listen, I’ll sell you a joke for a dollar. If you’re a value shopper I’ll give you two for one fitty,” He said as he kicked the shoebox rattling the donated change of passers by.
I’d sit there and watch Jimmy perform for hours. Most of the time he was just talking to himself. “People say dogs are man's best friend. Not me. I can’t be friends with a sexist species, I’m a feminist.”
When I’d get hungry, I’d walk over to the McDonald’s two blocks away. I usually got the dollar menu cheeseburger with small fries. After I’d gotten to know Jimmy, I’d bring him an apple pie or a cookie because those were his favorites. I only learned later that he had diabetes. “If something's gonna kill me it better taste good,” he would say with his mouth full and crumbs falling out.
Initially, when I was with Jimmy I didn’t feel like I needed to take the G. He would help me escape. He would joke about people walking by on the street. He would act out full telenovelas just to pass the time. But when I wasn’t with Jimmy I depended on G more than ever. I needed it to sleep. I’d take it and go comatose. Sometimes, I would secretly hope to lay comatose forever. I was drowning and Jimmy was the only one keeping me afloat. With life’s currents growing stronger, I needed more G to deal with it.
One day, I was at the McDonald’s picking up food for me and Jimmy, and I thought I could sneak in an extra dose of G. I took 1ml in the bathroom while I waited for the food. As I walked back to Jimmy, I remember feeling light headed and really wanting to sit. So when I saw Jimmy, I shoved the bag of food in his hands and I dropped to my butt on the concrete resting the back of my head against the wall. Jimmy was confused, “Hey man, you don’t want to eat while it’s hot? Or, is this all for me? Hey bro, you all right man?”
I don’t remember what happened next but I woke up in a hospital with my dad crying over me. As I awoke from my daze, I heard him admonishing himself “How could I let things get like this? How did things get so out of control?” When he saw me rousing, he squeezed my hand saying, “mijo, relájate. Take it easy my boy.”
Getting off G sucked. I had to stay at inpatient rehab for two weeks after to make sure I was able to withdraw with proper medical care. The doctors kept saying how lucky I was that the homeless man brought me to the hospital when he did. Otherwise, who knows what could have happened. I might have suffered brain damage from lack of oxygen flow or worse I might have died.
Each day off G, I cursed everyday I had been on it. The tremors and fevers kept me up. The stomach pains made it impossible for me to maintain a sane eating pattern. My dad worried at how much weight I had lost. Seeing Jimmy was the only thing that I looked forward to.
Eventually, they let me out but I had to go see a therapist once a week. I just wanted to see Jimmy again. Finally I did. I came to the corner where I’d spent all those days with him. And there he was wearing his plaid three-quarter coat frayed at the edges with a brown hoodie and sweatpant combo underneath. He was stomping around miming what it was like to go to war with an ant colony because “black people don’t trust colony’s of any type ever since slavery.” A few of the onlookers chuckled as he became more flamboyant with his gestures. When I caught his eye, I saw the biggest grin steal across his face.
“Ronnie! How the hell you doing man,” he asked as he pulled me into a bear hug. “Glad to see you in the land of the living!”
I smiled back, “Thanks for making sure that I made it!”
As he held me I couldn’t contain myself and I started to cry. He held me there forever. It felt like I had made my way back home.
“That’s wild bro,” said Beeno as he crushed the cigarette butt with his shoe. “I didn’t realize you were going through that man. When’s the last time you saw him?”
“He passed away a few months ago from complications with his diabetes. He would have been happy to see me graduate junior college and to be on my way to UW.”
“Yeah he would be proud of you man. Now leasing? What a joker.”
