The last time that I saw Jazz she worried for me. She snuck into my office in the center of town in the middle of the night down the darkened hallway to where I sat at my desk in my drunken stupor. She came for money as she always did. Her addiction was pills or smoke or both. “Never Needles” she once told me.The glare of the computer and the neon from the street light outside lit my office up into a carnival colored shadow of what was our meetings. “Oh B you’re not drinking again?” she said. “I thought you had sobered up and started back at the meetings” I just smiled and twisted my chair to her direction. I pushed the wad of cash towards the edge of the desk. She took to her knees and took me half flaccid into her mouth. She hummed a Foo Fighter song as she looked up at me her big deep smiling brown eyes. Looking at her this night something inside me broke and I gripped her on her shoulders and raised her up so that my face was level with her belly button. I clutched her by her waist and buried my face into her mid section and started to cry to sob actually. She pulled slightly away. I held on. Soon her hand caressed my head. Her fingers ran through my hair. I stood up and looked down at her. Tears glistened in her brown eyes. I grabbed her quickly and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her and she grabbed me back and we kissed and kissed some more. Crying and kissing. We were naked there. Her long brown hair fell from its braid to her waist. I dropped to my knees and devoured her. Then I stood and took her from behind burying my nose in her hair.
The sex sobered me up somewhat. Or at least I came out of the black out. Jazz sat in the chair across from my desk and clutched her money in one hand. “I’m thirsty” She said. I went to the little office fridge and came back with a peach iced tea. I opened the top and handed to her. “You, know B, every time I come here and saw you drinking it always broke my heart. I thought, here is this great guy who is so kind and so smart and such a good lawyer just losing it all to the bottle. And then for the last few weeks when I came here you were sober. I was so happy to see you sober. I used to pray and say God, please help B. he’s such a good guy.”I sat down across from her and watched her. She rustled through her giant pocket book. She was always rustling through that damn pocket book. I don’t think I ever remember her finding what she was looking for. “I always like coming here B. you know that?” she said without looking up. “It’s like I feel safe here. Like leaving the streets and the reality for a little breather you know B?”“You are always welcomed here Jazz. You know that. You can stay for as long as you want. She stopped rummaging through her bag and smiled up at me. “You know B. You and I we are a lot a like.” I thought she was referring to our addictions but I was wrong. “I have my hustle and you have your hustle B. My hustle is out on the streets and down at the Green. Hustling gang bangers and even cops” She laughed. “You B. Your hustle is in the courtroom.” “Right” I said “No B. I mean it. I was there, remember? I saw what you did to that jury. That was pure hustle B. You B. Are the jury Hustler!” she said and we both laughed. I watched her drink some more tea, and for a moment she looked as if she might knod off. I looked at her. She was only 21 but the streets and drugs had begun to catch her. Blackness colored under her beautiful brown eyes. “I’m tired B.” She said as though she knew what I was thinking. “I’m thinking about getting out of here for a while.” She said. “There are people out there who I think are after me.”
“I think that’s a great idea Jazz. I’d be glad to help.” Do you have a place to go?”
“Well, I have this girlfriend in Connecticut who has been after me to move down and be with her.”
“That’s great Jazz. Why don’t you go there and live?”
Well, she is a lesbian and she would expect things.
“But Jazz I thought you liked girls too”
“I do I guess but..” Then she turned away and stared back at her pocket book.
“Aaah I said. Your friend in Connecticut doesn’t use and wouldn’t let you use either.”
“Oh B, you know, I’m just …You know I want to get help…I want to quit..But”
“But, you just aren't ready yet, are you Jazz?”
I reached for my bottle of whiskey. Jazz stood and walked over to me and put her hand on top of my bottle. She kissed my forehead “Aint know answers inside that bottle B. You’re done B. Just like me. Only I’m done in a different way B.”
“Why don’t you let me get you into a rehab Jazz.”
“Maybe this weekend B. I need to get this money to some guys I owe or they said they would hurt me in ways I never been hurt before”
“Jazz, let me help”
“Remember that stupid joke that you and I made up the first day you came to see me in lock up?” she said
“Hooker and Lawyer walk into a bar together” I said
She kissed me in peach flavored tea and sat on my lap.
“Somebody in this place is going to get fucked!” she said
Just then her cell phone vibrated.
“Yes” answered “I will be right down
“Walk me down the hall B.”
“Afraid of the ghost Jazz?”
“No..I like the ghost. I just can’t see in the darkness”
“It is haunted Jazz you know that?”
“I know B. I believe you”
At the bottom of the stairs she looked out into the streets and waited for the last of the cars to pass. She turned back at me and smiled and then made her way out into the night and into a waiting car. I staggered back the flight of stairs and down the long hall way. Someone had put a light on in the hall so I could see the way.
