The Danger of Drugs
Michael W. Clark
Teresa looked over her bare shoulder
toward the commotion. She came into the
flower shop to relax with its perfumed coolness and calm, no commotion allowed.
The commotion violating her relaxing
mood was caused by a guy who looked like that old movie actor, Lee Marvin, but
with colorful tat-sleeves covering his exposed arms. He was shaking his head violently. “No! Da
Bud! Nope! Give me da Bud!” He grabbed his cheeks with both hands as if
to stop the shaking manually.
The darkly tanned girl behind the
corner held out red and yellow rose buds.
“These are the buds we have, ah, dude, ah, sir. Only the two colors.” She looked a little frightened.
“What da fuck? Flowers?
Bud! Give me da Bud.” He fumbled with his vest pockets. “Got da card here. Somewheres?
Doctor called it cervixal pain. Da
Bud will stop it. Medicine is it.”
“What?” The girl was getting more upset as the guys
voice got louder and his hair wilder. “What
card?”
“Had da card!” The guy dug in his pockets and almost fell
over from his search.
Teresa shook her head. “The medical Marijuana place is across the
street.” Teresa stated loudly. “Tell him he should go across the street.” Teresa pointed out the door. “He wants the Sunflower Shoppe.”
The girl was getting more and more
frightened. She saw Teresa pointing at
the door, but not understanding completely.
“You need to leave.” The girl
almost cried out. “Go!” The girl pointed with the rose buds. Their tear-drop heads drooping from their odd
positioning.
The motion of the red and yellow
cause the obviously stoned guy to flinch and duck. He then grabbed the roses away from the
girl. His actions caused the girl to
scream followed by his own scream as the thorns dug into his palms. “Damn bitch!
Fuck!” He threw the rose buds on
the floor. “Legal right to get it. Can’t refuse!”
“Hey!” Teresa called out. “Leave her alone! You plastered prick!” This guy was sounding just like her
husband. It was their two year
anniversary today and she was going to buy flowers for herself because she knew
her plastered prick of a Filipino husband wouldn’t do it. Her Vietnamese grandmother had been right
about him which made her extra mad.
Teresa stooped over to the counter.
She got close to the guy and yelled.
“It’s across the fucking street!”
She was so short she stood on tip toes to yell in his face, his throat,
actually.
“What da fuck!” Teresa surprised him. He threw his arms out and hit her in the
face. “What da fuck?” His forearm had bloodied Teresa’s nose and
knocked her back.
Teresa saw the bright flash she had
gotten too familiar with. Two years too
familiar with. She came back at the guy
with her fists balled together and struck him in his right eye.
“What a fuck!” He screamed out. The girl behind the counter cried and
screamed alternately. He swung his fist
into Teresa’s stomach.
His punch made her scream out. She was five months pregnant and she was
tired of all of it. She hadn’t wanted to
get pregnant. She had wanted a divorce
not a baby! Her Grandmother said she
couldn’t get rid of it. And the baby
needed a father. Tradition was so
confusing. “You monster bastard!” Teresa gasped as pain rippled through her
abdomen. The accompanying bright flashes
blinded her for a moment. Not being able
to see panicked Teresa and she grabbed one of the big glass vases filled with
flowers and swung it out blindly. The
vase seemed to explode in her hands.
There were then even louder screams
from the guy. He must have kicked out
because Teresa got another blinding flash.
She gasped but the pain made her furious. She grabbed whatever was in her reach and
swung it wildly and blindly. She
screamed as she swung. “Stop! Stop!
Stop!” She did that until the
groans went away.
She dropped down on the wet floor
and curled up in a ball. The stomach
contractions kept her from straighten or seeing anything other than the bright
flashes of pain. It was then quiet for
awhile.
The screaming seemed to start again,
but Teresa realized it was sirens.
People were rushing around her talking in low voices. Asking her questions. They seemed concerned about her excessive
bleeding.
Some voice she understood asked, “Are
you pregnant?”
She heard herself say, “Yes.”
Another voice said, “Oh no!”
Teresa then felt herself flying into
the air and moving fast away accompanied by the false screaming again.
When she finally awoke in the Emergency
Ward bed, her Grandmother was there at her bedside. A female police was there too.
“Mrs. Rhys, I need to ask you some
questions.” The officer said.
“Sure.” Teresa answered. Her Grandmother shook her head. Her Grandmother only spoke Vietnamese, but
understood some English. Her Grandmother
wasn’t smiling as she usually did.
“Did you know the guy in the flower
store?” The officer tapped on an ePad.
“No, never seen him before.” Teresa didn’t feel any pain. She couldn’t even feel the IV needle. They had given her something for all the
potential pain.
“Why the fight?” The officer shrugged and tapped.
“He pissed me off with his yelling
at the girl.” Teresa touched her
nose. It was swollen but didn’t
hurt. “He punched me in the face too. I am really tired of that happening!” She said louder than she had wanted.
The officer nodded.
Teresa’s Grandmother then said in
Vietnamese. “You killed him, but, he killed your baby. He deserved it.”
Teresa still didn’t feel anything,
but said, “Good. Now I can get a
divorce.”
Her Grandmother nodded. “He deserves it.”
THE END
