[RiddleRose]: 298.Gold Dust - NaNoWriMo '07.Chapter eleven

Chapter eleven.

They were interrupted by a snort from Livia. “You honestly thought you were insane.” she looked at them with disbelief written plainly across her face, “You're dealers, shouldn't you at least know what the drug you deal does?”

Wren and Neil exchanged mystified glances. How had she known they were dealers? Wren said, “Livia, I think you need to explain a few things to us. For instance, how the hell did you know our names weren't what we said they were? I mean, you're right, but how did you know? And what gives you the idea that we're dealers? And of what drug? And please speak quietly. I don't want to get thrown out for causing a commotion.”

Livia looked like she was battling herself. Emotions chased each other across her face, and finally they settled down into a mixture of determination and anger. There was maybe a little confusion there too. “Fine,” she said, “But only because you seem so clueless.

“I came across Gold Dust a few days ago. My dad's a cop, and he brought some home. He's been trying to track down the dealer for ages. But I guess he'd maybe had it in the house for a long time, cause I think a bottle broke in our closet. It's all over everything in there. I guess he must have been addicted to it or something, I don't know if it was on purpose or not. Anyway, he got in a horrible car crash. It killed one of his buddies, and nearly killed him. He's a really good driver too, so it must have been the Gold Dust. It must have! 

“It was after that that I found it in the closet. It was all over everything. Everything! All of my coats, my outerwear. It was on everything. And there's this woman. She's a fortune teller, a psychic. Her name's Katrina. I've been seeing her everywhere. In places she couldn't possibly be. She predicted an earthquake, but it didn't happen. She said my dad would be okay. She showed up drunk in my hotel room. She vanished though, and I have no idea where she went.

“I figured it out though. It's the Gold Dust. I'm not stupid. It makes you hallucinate. I guess I must be accidentally addicted to it too... anyway, I decided I had to find out where it was coming from, so I could find out how to get off it, and what it does, and everything. So I went looking. I found a guy in a restaurant who was talking to someone who wasn't there. I saw him take a bottle of it from under the table. I saw it! So I followed him. I made him give me the place where he had gotten it. He gave me 43 Willow street, and told me a David Moutcastle had given it to him...”

She looked at Wren. “I guess you must be David Mountcastle then?”

But Wren shook his head, “No, no, I use various names, but Mountcastle's not one of them. That's him. Neil, you dealt right outside your own front door? What the hell were you thinking?”

Neil shifted uncomfortably, “I dunno... I don't remember that guy. You were probably sick, and you know, I always have to take over from you when you're sick. I don't like running in tunnels and things, I'm not like you. I tend to deal pretty close to home. I admit, right outside my front door is a little stupid.”

Wren snorted, “A little. Just a little. Anyway, that's beside the point. Livia, that is an impressive story. But you said we were talking to nothing, and the guy in the restaurant was talking to nothing. You mean you can't see Lessa and Jamie?”

Livia looked around, and shook her head, “No, I can't see them, either of them. They are your hallucinations though, I didn't expect to be able to. But wait,” she pointed at Wren, “You're Wren, right? Did you ever leave bottles of Gold Dust for cops to find?”

Wren shifted a little uncomfortably, “Well, yeah. It's a great escape strategy, when they're after you, you know? Toss a bottle of Dust at them. It goes all over the place you know. They have to backtrack to avoid the cloud. Sometimes on windy days I just opened a bottle in front of them. Same effect. But it shouldn't make them crash cars, should it Neil? You're more of an expert than me. I'm not even on it. You probably know more about the symptoms and things. But I dunno... none of my clients ever seemed to be at all addled...”

But Livia was snorting with derision again, “Not on it! You can see Lessa and Jamie, can't you? You're hallucinating Wren. That's what the cursed stuff makes you DO! Of course you're on it. Maybe not intentionally, but then I'm not on it intentionally either, am I?”

Neil was a bit pale. He had started to say something when Livia had mentioned that Katrina had predicted an earthquake, but had stopped himself, because she was obviously on a roll. He shook his head in response to Wren's question. “No, no, it doesn't do anything really bad to you. It just makes you incredibly addicted, and makes you-” he paused for a fraction of a second, “makes you hallucinate, like Livia said. Smart girl. And- well, I had guessed I was on it. But I didn't actually know, so thanks for clearing that up Livia.”

“No problem,” she said wryly, “but I have question. Do you make it yourselves? Where does it come from? I still want to find out more about it. I want to find someone who knows how to get me off the bloody thing!”

Wren and Neil exchanged another glance. Neil said, “You won't find anyone else. It's a two man operation we have here. Wren deals, I make. I deal when Wren's sick, or when we have an overload of orders in one night. I would take it as a kindness if you didn't tell anyone about us. I mean, they wouldn't catch us anyway, but it would suck to have to make whole new identities again. The last time that happened, we ended up having to live in an abandoned subway station for two months. Thank god (if there is one) that it was summer then. That sucked a lot. I gained a new respect for homeless people, I can tell you. I always give them something now.”

Wren grinned at the memory, “To tell you the truth, I kind of enjoyed it. I mean, once we got your bed out Neil, it wasn't so bad. I will admit that I didn't much like the sleeping on the ground bit. But really, with the bed it was okay. You just like your little comforts too much me boyo.”

Neil punched Wren genially in the arm, “Idiot. Only you would actually enjoy sleeping in a smelly disused train station. I missed all my comforts. Especially the bathroom. Have you forgotten that little problem? Oh, and the rats of course. The rats as big as friggin' CATS. Those things were not our friends, no matter how many times you say they were.”

Wren glanced at his watch, “Speaking of dealing, I've got a couple more tonight. Anyone who wants to tag along can, but if so, you gotta remember to act like nothing's out of the ordinary. Actually, Livia, if you come, you should probably pretend to be my girlfriend. Neil has the look of an inspiration in his eye, so I don't think he'll be coming.”

And, sure enough, Neil had gotten up in a slightly dreamlike state, and was on his way out. Wren shouted after him, “Neil, I'm staying at your place tonight!” and Neil gave an absentminded wave over his shoulder. Wren looked at the table, “That fucker. Left me to pay his bill for him.” he looked at Livia, “Well? You coming or not?”

She hesitated, then shrugged, and said, “Guess I might as well. I don't really have anything better to do. I can't go home, and I think my hotel room expired. Anyway, Katrina's probably there again, and I REALLY don't want to talk to her right now. Did you say earlier that you were going to a strip club?”

Wren grinned in anticipation, “Yeah. I love setting up deals in strip clubs. I get a real bonus that way.”

Livia looked a little contemptuous, but asked, “Which one?”

Wren said, “The Cat Scratch Club. It's my favourite. The lead dancer is definitely the best around.”

Livia giggled, “I'll tell her you said so.” At Wren's half shocked, half incredulous look, she said, “I never told you what my job was, did I?” his eyes bugged out a little, and she laughed, “You are such a boy. I'm a ballerina you idiot. The lead dancer there is my friend. She's the lead in our ballet too. She just works there for some extra money.”

Wren got a thoughtful look on his face, and asked, “Do you think you could get me a backstage tour of that place? I mean, since you know her and all...”
Livia glared, “No! I absolutely will not get you a backstage tour! That is my friend you are molesting in your mind. How dare you think I would do that to her!”

Wren raised an eyebrow, “In case you had forgotten, dear, your friend is a STRIPPER. They display themselves for money. The whole point is to make the boys molest them with their minds. And you know...” he got a thoughtful look on his face, “I bet I could pick her up. I'm awfully good at picking up chicks. I'll have to try that sometime.” He laughed out loud at the expression on her face, “You really don't like me, do you. Well darling, if you're coming along with me, you're going to pretend to be my girlfriend. If we have to convince anyone, I will grope and/or kiss you, so be forewarned. I don't particularly like you either, so I don't really care if you don't like it. You don't have to come.”

Livia's glare could have stripped paint, “You arrogant BASTARD!” she hissed, “You think every girl just falls at your feet don't you. Well I am not one of your swooning damsels. I'm coming along to make sure you don't hurt my friend. And if you do, so help me, I will bring the entire police department down on your ass.”

Wren glared right back, “I would never, ever, EVER, do anything to a girl without her consent. Do you understand me? Rape is not my specialty. I do not rape. I do not harass. I hardly even cat call. You should be more careful when accusing someone you hardly even know of things like that. Now, I am leaving. Come or stay.”

Livia stood up stiffly, and took his offered arm. Together, each in a state of complete fury with the other, they walked out of the karaoke place, and into the night.