A Nicotine Craving

Years he had floated by on thoughts of being free again, ready to pick up on life where he left it. The past few years of being incarcerated was an inconvenience but tolerable. If there was a lesson to be learned, Steve didn't get it.

 

“What I am saying now is a lie. But what I am about to tell you is not. I remember it like it was yesterday. If only I had answered the phone that day.” Helen said this to her sister Kim. “It was back when I used to work with all those guys. I told you about what happened to Steve Story. To this day I still feel bad about what happened.

 

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It was a Sunday night; Cedric and Steve stared at each other as their anticipation dwindled; within seconds all hope had passed, the phone went unanswered. Steve tightened his grip on the receiver and pressed it into his ear as if by some magical force it could will Helen to answer the phone; he desperately needed to talk to her again but the phone just rang and rang. Cedric turned away disappointed, if she had not answered by now, she wasn’t going too. All they could do was wait for the call back.

 

“You just can’t trust a soul nowadays.” Steve sounded disgusted. “One of us is a thief and somebody’s jealous.”

 

“Hell man, we’re all thieves, what are you talking about?” Cedrick laughed.

 

“Yea.” Steve answered quietly.

 

Later Steve decided to take matters into his own hands. It was a huge risk but he was going anyway. He looked at Cedric seriously and said, “Field trip.”  

 

Bold, brave, and belligerent, Steve twenty-three years old, 5’11”, medium build, blonde hair, and blue eyes, was in the final stages of doing time for possession of narcotics with intent to distribute and DUI charges. He now was in a work release program doing front desk duties at a motel and scheduled for discharge in two days. Years he had floated by on thoughts of being free again, ready to pick up life where he left it. The past few years of being incarcerated had been an inconvenience but tolerable. If there was a lesson to be learned, Steve didn’t get it.

 

Steve walked as fast as he could. He looked, he watched, he listened, he missed nothing that moved in his line of sight. The darkness of the night caused little attention to be drawn to his fast long strides across a vacant condemned truck stop’s parking lot. The lot that stood between him and what he desired. He waded through broken beer bottles and made a special effort to avoid kicking any empty beer cans. No need for useless noise that could draw needless attention.  Close enough now that he could smell them, taste them, and then he seen them through the window, beckoning to him. He could almost hear them calling his name through the night air.

 

Into the convenient store he went, in two strides he was at the counter.

 

“Reds in the box, please.” He said to the clerk; all the while he still kept a watchful eye out for anyone and everyone. The cashier scanned his order, collected his cash, and returned his change. Not wasting one moment, he tore the rim off the cellophane, ripped the foil away, and extracted a cigarette that he placed so urgently between eager lips. Prepared now to light up the second he cleared the door. The change he stuffed into his front right pants pocket while pulling out a complimentary book of motel matches from the left. He turned and instantly out from behind a rack of potato chips stepped Bob, one of his correctional officers. Their eyes locked.

 

“Thank you Story, I’ll take these. It’s not my brand but you won’t need them where you are headed.” Bob said. He snatched the pack from Steve’s hand and the cigarette that dangled from his lips fell free, hit his shoe and rolled off under the chip rack.

 

Steve wasn’t sure what a heart arrhythmia was, but he felt this had to be it. His heart pummeled completely out of control. His weight shifted, like it had melted, and ran down to his feet. He tried to speak but nothing came out. What could come out in his defense? It was hot, very hot; he felt a sinking heavy sluggishness feeling that made him nauseous. Then gravity took over belted him a good knock on his head as it bounced off the tiled floor. Everything went black.

 

Steve had no interest in making trouble. His behavior now would have an effect on how many days, weeks, months, or years would be added to his sentence? In the many scenarios that he played out in his head, of all that could go wrong while he was on his little field trip, an off duty officer buying a diet coke for his wife was not one of them. He couldn’t be worried about that now. It was too late to worry about anything. He didn’t want to worry about the farm either but, a nicotine craving had just changed all that. He wasn’t sure if this would impress fellow inmates or whether he would become the relentless brunt of prison male blonde jokes. He felt the latter and would be laughed out of his cell. All these thoughts unfolded from some deep dark region from within his brain.

 

The next thing that was real was someone slapped his face and a voice from far away came into clarity.

 

“You better learn to laugh at this stunt you pulled. Hope it was worth the humiliation you are fixing to have to live through.” said Officer Bob. “You mother

is going to be so proud.”

 

Steve threw up.

 

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“Kim, did you know they sent Steve back to the farm where he served another year before being released. And the cigarette that fell from Steve’s lips that day was the last cigarette to ever touch his lips. Still nicotine free till this day. Well, what I am saying now could be a lie, but it makes for a pretty good ending to such a pathetic story. Don’t you think, sissy?

 

Author's Note

This is a scene from a book that I am working on. The part about my sister is not in the book, I altered the beginning and end a little for a contest that I am entering it in. This is a true story and did actually happen. And I still feel bad when I think about it, but that is life and shit happens.

Reviews

[C.M.]

The writing is great, descriptive and sleek. It feels like a decent amount of editing has already taken place. When I read this is it felt like a random section with a substantial amount of material before and after. So in a sense I agree with "rock and Roll" about a bit of confusion as to exactly what is going on. As a counter to this though, I can understand it depending on how much inference is too be drawn from the passage. (I write myself in a way that asks a lot of the reader to engage in the text) What I mean by this is that it may only be confusing to me due to the limited context in which it is presented. More before and after would certainly shore up any limitations this section has. Again this is not to say there are any problems with this I would just like to see more. Well done and again the writing itself is spot on.

[Jo]

The writing style is perfectly fits the tone of the story. It's a small amount of text, but you made every word count. I couldn't suggest anything to improve it. Sorry this is so short but everything really fits the flow and the story perfectly.

[Alias Fletcher]

Good suspense. I like it. Charly

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Wow it is certainly an interesting story, it goes to show how the simplest decisions can bring life changing events... the only thing I don't know is why he was arrested. But all in all their is a lesson there and yes the ending was quite funny.