Public Secrets

but now he doesn’t want to see me.”
“You never told me Pete scored drugs for you.”
Stevie dropped his eyes. That had been a little secret. There was always one more little secret. “Now and then, when things got tight and my sources dried up. The show must go on, right? The fucking show always goes on. So he’d score a little H for me, all very disapproving, then when the show was over, he’d put me back in one of these places.”
“None of us knew it was going to get this bad.”

“No, none of us knew.” He began to drum his fingers on the top of the candy box. “Remember Woodstock, Bri? Christ, what a time. You and me sitting in the woods, dropping acid, tripping out, listening to the music. Jesus, what music. How’d we get here?”
“I wish I knew.” Brian dug his hands out of his pockets, then pushed them in again. “Look, Stevie, you’re going to pull out of this. Hell, you’re right in fashion now. Everybody’s drying out, cleaning out.” He worked up another smile. “It’s the eighties thing to do.”
“That’s me, always on the cutting edge.” He grabbed Brian’s hand. “Listen, it’s hard, you know. Man, it’s really hard.”
“I know.”
“Man, you can’t know ’cause you’re not here.” He swallowed the anger and resentment. He couldn’t afford to show either now. “Maybe I’ll do it this time, Bri, but I need help.”
“That’s why you’re here.”
“Okay, okay, so I’m here.” Goddammit, he was sick of platitudes and good wishes. “But it’s not enough. I need something, Bri, just a taste of something. You could slip in a couple grams of coke—just to get me through.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. With a sinking heart, Brian knew it wouldn’t be the last. “I can’t do it, Stevie.”
“Christ, Bri, just a couple grams. Nothing major. All they give me in here’s Tinkertoy drugs. It’s like going cold turkey with aspirin.”
Brian pulled his hand away and turned around. He couldn’t bear to look at those dark, haunted eyes. Pleading eyes. “I’m not going to score coke for you, Stevie. The doctors say it’d be like putting a gun to your head.”
“I already tried that.” Fighting tears, Stevie pressed both hands to his face. “All right, no coke. You could get me something else. Some Dolophine. It’s a good drug, Bri. If it was good enough for the Nazis, it’s good enough for me.” He began to whine, staring at Brian’s back. “It’s just a substitute, man. You’ve done it for me before so what’s the big fucking deal? It’ll keep me straight.”
Brian sighed. When he turned, opening his mouth to refuse yet again, he saw Emma in the doorway. She stood like a statue, her lush hair caught back in a braid, baggy blue pants hitched with white suspenders lying on a crimson shirt. There were big gold hoops at her ears, and she carried a game of Scrabble. Brian thought she looked sixteen, until he saw her eyes.
They were cold. A woman’s cold, accusing eyes.

“Am I interrupting?”
“No.” Brian stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got to get on.”
“I’d like to talk with you.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, but moved to the opposite side of Stevie’s bed. “Maybe you could wait outside for me. I won’t be long. The doctor said Stevie needed rest.”
“All right.” It was ridiculous, Brian thought, but he felt like a child about to be scolded. “I’ll see you in a day or two, Stevie.”
“Right.” He said nothing else, but his eyes begged as Brian left the room.
“I bought you this.” Emma laid the board game over Stevie’s bony knees. “I figured you could practice up so you could try to beat me.”
“I always beat you.”
“When I was a kid, and because you cheated.” She lowered the bedguard to sit beside him. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
He couldn’t keep his hands still. His fingers played a nervous tattoo on the box. “I guess not.”
“So you want some drugs.” She said it so matter-of-factly, it took a moment for it to register. His fingers picked up the rhythm against the box as he looked at her.
“What was the name of it again? I’ll write it down. I imagine I can get my hands on some in a few hours.”
“No.”
“You said you wanted it. What was the name?” She’d taken out a pad and held a pencil poised over it.
There was hope, and a desperate greed, before shame flushed his skin. For a moment, he looked almost healthy. “I don’t want you involved.”
She laughed