The Book of a Few by Austen Rodgers Page B

across his face. The outsider’s demeanor changed from one of violence and anger to one of giggles and lighthearted conversation.
     
    “ You, uh,” he spoke softly, suddenly short of breath, “you want some?” The outsider motioned toward the stall and took a step back. I stood there in awe after realizing Will’s tactic. He knew the man was high and was attempting to change the conversation. The man was giddy like a child and practically skipped inside the bathroom stall.
     
    “ Can’t let it go to waste! You’re lucky you’re my friend!”
     
    I heard paper slide across the floor, presumably the adult magazine he had just been perusing. Dana muttered to himself something along the lines that we wouldn’t want to see it. A second later, he came out of the stall with a plastic sack that he opened to show the contents. It was full of syringes.
     
    “ Now don’t go too crazy, just a little,” he said.
     
    What made this man even more peculiar were his quirks. He looked about the room like he was checking to make sure we were the only ones in the room. The man babbled to himself as he began searching through the sack. He yelped and removed his hand from the sack and began sucking on one of his fingers. He must have gotten pricked by one of the needles. Sanitary.
     
    I leaned closer to Will and whispered in his ear, “He’s fucking out of his mind.” Will and I looked at one another with wide bulging eyes that screamed the unanimous feeling of let’s get out of here .
     
    By this time, the stranger had repeated “just a little” multiple times. Considering that and his sudden mood change, we all knew that this was not a safe time to be with the man. He seemed like he was straight out of a horror movie, psychotic or bipolar behaviors or whatever you would label his actions. All I knew was that he was crazy.
     
    With one syringe held between his teeth, the stranger said, “Name’s Dana, by the way.” We all nodded, but none of us shared our own names.
     
    Dana pulled his missing shoelace from his pocket and presented it to us. We came to find out he was using it as a tourniquet as he showed us the ‘proper’ way.
     
    Will cut him off at that point. “Hey, well, we do have to get going, and I’m not quite sure if this is a safe place to do it.” Will tried to finagle our way out of there as harmlessly as possible. Most of our caution was probably unnecessary, as he was only one person compared to the four of us, not to mention his current state. At the same time, though, we didn’t want him to suddenly snap back into ‘angry Dana’ and shoot one of us.
     
    “ Oh,” Dana replied, realizing his surroundings. “Well then, let’s go somewhere else.” One word immediately ran through my mind: trapped . Dana was going to play the ‘lost little puppy dog’ card and try to follow us back. My mind raced for polite ways to tell him to go find a bridge to crawl under.
     
    I looked over to Will and the rest of the guys as I spoke, “I don’t think we really have the room.” Obviously a lie. “And um…” Still can’t believe I said this straight up, but I couldn’t help it. It just came out. “…I don’t think it’s a very good thing to have drugs with you. Makes you a target to anyone who wants them,” I said.
     
    Dana chuckled at my comment. He looked at me, and I saw the depravity in him. I saw his general lack of care for his own health and safety.
     
    “ What they don’t realize, though, is that this,” he motioned toward the bag in his hand, “is all I have left to lose. So, no one will get it easily.”
     
    “ I don’t know about that, man. I’m sure you have something else to live for,” I said.
     
    Dana laughed. “Not when you’re more than a thousand miles from home.” His eyes watered, and he sniffled.
     
    I didn’t know if I could take a third personality of this man without shooting him.
     
    He looked up at the ceiling, “Oh… little Jack. Hope