Ash

I hate dealing... I've been doing this since I was a little brat, and it's way more work than the payoff. Every day we put our lives on the line in hopes we can get a bump up the ranks and a sweet pay increase. Still, I don't have many options. In this new 'organization,' I've gotten the hint that the bosses aren't gonna give us anything more substantial. We have a role to fit, and they aren't interested in sharing the profits. Bosses need workers, and druggies need the product, and the 'company's' pocket gets thicker.

Let me tell you when a new shipment comes in, it's time to hustle. This particular shipment came in at around, like, 2 AM – which is fairly common. We usually don't know what day or the specific time. Your phone will buzz, and you better stop whatever the hell you're doing and get down there to get your piece of the goods. If you don't, tough shit. The rest of the street-crew will take it and sell it. At times, they'll despise you for it too. Other times they're glad to take the cash. It depends on the drug, the amount, and everyone's workload. The game is: sell the drugs fast, so the bosses don't expect you to front the cash. If you don't, say your goodbyes to your loved ones.

I was half-tanked this specific evening, playing pool. My girl came and visited me later and stayed the night. She has no idea what I do. I like to keep it that way, way less headaches. Still, when you get a phone call at 2 AM after a drunken mattress tangle, she starts to raise an eyebrow. Maybe I'll tell'r one day so she stops thinking I got a side piece.

So, I sobered up, got dressed, remembering to tie on the white rag on my arm – bosses get pissed if we don't show loyalty. What kind of name is Crystal Moths, anyways? The rag symbolizes a moth, I think. Whatever, it doesn't matter. They're the biggest players in the game and always have work. Most people would – and have – killed to be a member of the Crystal Moths. I don't ever want to lose my gig, no matter how much I bitch about it.

The drive over wasn't long (yes, still sobering up). Even though Toronto never sleeps, you can get to the docks from North York fast if you know the roads' ins and outs. I'm no fool and parked my car a few blocks away. I suppose if a police bust occurred, I'm fucked. But, if I had the car closer, they would get the plate. It doesn't matter. Eventually, I got to the docks to meet the rest of the Crystal Moths. Our direct boss, a couple of goons, and a higher-up that haven't seen in a long time stood with six street crew members. I was the last to arrive, it seemed, just on time too.

All of them had some representation of white clothing. Shirts, bandanas, suits, you name it. This higher-up . . . his name is Mastema, which I highly doubt that's his real name. Seriously, think about what kind of name that is. I grew up in a hardcore religious family and remember a thing or two. If you didn't, look it up.

I know the street crew pretty well. We're all hungry to feast ourselves onto whatever goods there are. The boss has been stingy on the smack and coke, and that stuff sells for top buck. I know enough junkies who are dying to get their fix. Well, that all changed after this night. Junk and lines aren't the only product on the market. Plus, this is just another job, another paycheck to me. Everyone has to pay bills, and you have to fend for yourself. Not to mention I got to pay for my kid's child support. Don't get me started on his mom . . . whatever she likes to say, my work is no different than some corporate sleaze climbing their way up to the top, squishing everyone they can. I'm just squishing junkies.

Our boss was quiet, her hands cupped together, face cold. Like Mastema, who was pacing back-and-forth, she was wearing a full white blazer. What makes this pickup more interesting is that Mastema was there. I think the last time I saw the guy was when he recruited me. The Crystal Moths are stingy with who they hire, especially after that incident in Edmonton. It involved some hotshot vigilante and the exposure of our plugs in the police. Since then, Mastema personally screens everyone who is involved with the business.