Harry and Tyrone got their shit together and got off just before leaving, about nine oclock at night. They figured they would miss all the heavy traffic then and with the uppers they could drive through the night without any trouble and get into Miami at a good time. Harry was having more and more trouble finding a vein, having to go into his fingers, but they were proving to be no good too, and he sure as krist didnt want to blow a fix now. A bag of shit was too precious these days. So, from time to time, he would be forced to go back into a spot in his arm that had been festering occasionally and was now a hole. He always made up his mind he would stay away from it, but when he was getting off he just couldnt go through the hassle of trying to find another spot so sooner or later he would just drop the needle in the hole in his arm and squeeze the shit in. Tyrone would shake his head, Thats a nasty mutha fucka jim, you should learn to get some ropes like me. Thas the trouble with you honkys, you too sof. Thats okay man, just as long as the shit gets where its goin… an just as long as we get where we/re goin.
It was cold and windy when they left, but dry. Ah sure hope this mutha fuckin heater works jim. Harry was driving, Tyrone staring at the heater controls, turning the heater on every few seconds, then turning it off as cold air whirled around his feet. They were almost on the Jersey Turnpike before the air from the heater was warm, Sheeit, there it goes. I guess this aint goin to be such a bad trip.
The radio wasnt too bad and so for the first few hours they finger popped, dug the sounds, and drove as rapidly as possible along the turnpike, keeping their eyes open for the cops, not wanting to be stopped for anything. The night was soothing and comforting. And it felt still. The lights from the occasional car passing made them feel warm and secure in their well heated car. The lights from distant houses or nearby power towers and factories twinkled in the cold air, but their attention was on the road and the distance between them and Miami. From time to time Harry would become aware of the ache in his arm, then straighten it slowly and adjust it on the arm rest. Every now and then Tyrone would check the odometer and announce how much closer they were to Miami and all that warm sun and fine shit. Yeah man, an when we get back with all that stuff we/re gonta be cool. Right on baby. We/re not gonta let anybody know we got weight, we/re just gonta cut that stuff and slip out a few bundles a night to those dudes like we just copped it ourselves. You damn right jim. Ah dont want all those runny nosed dope fiens bangin down mah door. Tyrone rubbed his head and looked out the window at the snow and frozen slush that was gray and spotted with black, the lights picking out a rare spot of white where the surface snow had been ripped away. How much you figure we get? I dont know man, maybe two pieces. You really think we get that much? the mutha fuckin price is gone crazy jim. Yeah, yeah, I know, but I figure a grans gotta get us two pieces even with this panic. We/re schleppin the stuff and takin all the heat. Thats gotta be worth somethin. Yeah, Tyrone was smiling and leaning back in his seat, an we be cool till this mutha fuckin panic and winter is gone jim. Maybe I/ll get me a sun lamp an jus lay back like you honkys, Tyrone let his teeth hang out in a wide grin. Harry glanced at him and started laughing, then snorting as he fought to control himself and keep his eye on the road. Hey baby, be cool, we got a long way to go.
After driving for a few hours they stopped at a Howard Johnsons and bundled their clothes around them as they hustled from the car. They ordered soda and pie then went to the mens room. Harry very gently took his jacket off and rolled up his shirt sleeve. The hole in his arm was hurting so bad now that he wasnt laughing and talking about all the dope they would have soon. He and Tyrone looked at it for a moment and Tyrone shook his head, Thats lookin bad jim. Yeah, it sure as hell aint pretty. Harry shrugged, O well, fuck it, I/ll take care of it when we get back. Yeah, but you best not use that anymore. You best be getting off somewhere else. Yeah. They each went into a separate stall to get off and Harry tried to work up a usable vein in his right hand but no matter how hard he tried he couldnt get anything close to what he wanted so he just went back into the old reliable hole in his left arm rather than taking the chance of blowing a fix. It hurt like hell for a minute, but it was worth it, and soon it was just a dull ache again. They drank a few glasses of soda after eating their pie and grooved behind the dope and the waitress and giggled and scratched for a while, then dropped another dexie, got a couple of containers of coffee, and split and continued toward Miami and the connections. They were quiet for a while, listening to the music and feeling warm and secure with the dope and the future, each smiling inwardly thinking about the end of their problems and the panic, at least for them. Then the dexies loosened their tongues and they started nodding in time to the music, singing, finger poppin and rapping endlessly, Tyrone announcing how much closer they were to Miami, from time to time, and the connections.
Harry was still driving when the sun started to come up. Damn, we been ridin all night an there still be snow on the mutha fuckin groun jim. How far south you got to go before they be no snow? Very far man. This panic and cold spell goes right down to Florida. They stopped for coffee and dropped a couple more uppers, then went to the mens room, one at a time, and got off, got a couple of containers of coffee and split. Tyrone got behind the wheel and Harry stretched out in his seat, trying to rest his arm and get the son of a bitch to stop hurting. It wasnt so bad now that he had just gotten off, but it still throbbed.
Tyrone still looked at the odometer, announcing how much closer they were to Miami, when all of a sudden it dawned on him how far away they were from New York. They dropped some more uppers and drank more coffee, and thought about the distance between them and home. They had driven all night and they realized they couldnt just jump on the subway or grab a cab and get to where they wanted to go. However they may have felt when they left they were now committed, they had passed the point of no return.
The radio continued to play, but the car was quiet, Harry continually rubbing his arm trying to soothe it. Tyrone leaned the elbow of his left arm against the door and stroked his chin with his hand. Neither one of them had ever left the state of New York before, and the only time Harry had left the city was when he was a kid and he went to the Boy Scout camp. They were becoming more and more overwhelmed by the strangeness of the countryside. They became increasingly quiet. The uppers and the heroin fought for control. The area around the highway seemed to be getting closer somehow. They squirmed, trying to find a comfortable spot in their seats. They stared through the windshield. They tried to numb their minds with the uppers and heroin, but still the desperateness of the situation forced itself upon them. Separately they each felt increasingly aware of the fact that what they were doing was insane. They were half a world away from the neighborhood. They were strung out, a fact that they pussy footed around for a long time, but now it thrust itself right in their guts. They were strung out and they were driving through some asshole fuckin state trying to get to Miami and find the big connections. They could smell them. They knew they were following the connections. But what the fuck were they going to do when they got there? What the fuck was goin on? They squirmed. Adjusted. Harry soothed his arm. The fuckin pain was suddenly so bad he was goin blind. They were scared shitless. But they were just as scared to cop out in front of the other one. They both wanted to turn around and go back. Scufflin those fuckin streets in this mutha fuckin panic was like death man, but it was better than this. Where the fuck were they goin fa krists sake? What was comin down? Suppose they run outta shit before they got back? Suppose they got busted down here in the fuckin South? Each almost prayed, or came as close to praying as they knew how, that the other one would suggest turning around and going back, but they just continued to stare through the windshield and squirm as the car continued going straight ahead. Tyrone stopped looking at the odometer. Harry was unable to sit still for more than a few minutes. From time to time he was almost doubled over with pain. He rubbed his arm, trying to soothe the pain away. I dont think Im gonta make it man. This fuckin arm is killin me. He squirmed out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeve and blinked a few times as he looked at his arm. Tyrone glanced at it from time to time, frowning, Sheeit, that really looks bad baby. Around the hole in Harrys arm a huge greenish white lump had formed with red streaks spreading out toward his shoulder and wrist. I can hardly move the son of a bitch. Im gonta have ta do somethin man.