This is probably the worst part of my Wonder Years story. It is disgusting and sad and it makes me cry just thinking about it. It’s almost unbelievable, but it happened and it is why I feel crazy sometimes.

After we had been out in SLC for three years, we were wearing down fast. The lifestyle will kill you if you let it. You have to eat and you have to drink, water. You have keep clean. We did none of that. And you have to watch your back all the time.

When our third year had came around, things got messy really fast. Billy was caught selling heroin to some folks down the street from us. He was arrested and we didn’t see him for weeks. This meant that we had to find our own supply. That wasn’t that hard in SLC. We knew who Billy’s sellers were and we went to them, daily at first but then every few days. They had to trust us for the money. We didn’t know that Jimmy had turned on Billy, and arranged the very deal that got him arrested. Jimmy was working with the police.

Being a part of these things made you a marked person. A few weeks after Billy was put behind bars, Jimmy told us to be careful. He told us that we might be in danger if word got out that he ratted on Billy. Jimmy wanted all of us to go home, to go back to NH to be safe. Patty and Kim didn’t believe him, and I didn’t care. I just wanted my heroin. It was shortly before Halloween in 1981. October 29.

Janine and I were going out to get some more smack. We usually did this late at night or early in the am. In the dark to draw less attention. This night was no different than the others. Calls had been made and a place to meet was worked out. The dealer was a mean mother fucker.

We actually laughed that night, for the first time in what seemed forever. We joked around about Janine’s new look-she had new clothes and shoes on. She looked really good that night. And happy. She wanted out of this life we were living and was starting to plan her escape. She was excited and glowed with it. I didn’t think she was serious but I went along with her happiness and we laughed…not for long though.

It was a rainy night. I remember seeing streetlights and cars and trucks, and looking at a clock…1:30am. The pavement was wet and full of potholes. Janine and I were walking out of the apartment building, going down concrete steps when it happened. As we walked out into the big parking lot near the building, someone yelled to us to run. Janine and I both turned around and then she started to fall to the ground. Making no noise-she just went down. We never even made it to a fast walk.

I can see it just like it happened yesterday. In slow motion. Janine turned and her head popped back. Then lots of blood droplets fly everywhere as she went down. I didn’t get what happened. And to this day I cannot remember hearing any gunshots. I went down with her, kind of grabbed her from behind under her arms to prevent a hard landing. I tried to cover her and keep her safe. Her head was in my lap. I felt her blood crawl up my shirt and ooze down my legs. I tried to talk to her but she wouldn’t respond. I remember crying and then screaming at her to get up…and run with me. It occurred to me that she had been really hurt and might need help getting up. So I tried to get her up and that’s when I realized she was dead. Half her head was gone in the back…it was all over me, and the pavement under us. Blood, bone, brain. Just one little hole in the front of her head under her long bangs. Her scull just crumbled in my hands. Nothing can prepare someone to see this or smell this or feel this. It was the single grossest event of my life. Anyone who has seen this will understand why I feel the way I do. It makes you craZy, and it’s something you never go a day without thinking about.

Everything happened fast. People yelling, sirens seering somewhere off in the distance. Jimmy running over to us, bending over me and Janine, crying and yelling. Policemen all around me. Everyone trying to get me to move here or there. I remember someone saying-”Get the bitch out of there, we have a dead one to pick up”. Someone kept saying to me-”Excuse me miss, can I help you move?”…then “Young lady, you need to let us help you”. Yeah, sure I thought. I got up, but only after Jimmy took Janine into his arms. I wasn’t going to leave her lying on the cold pavement.

When I stood up the blood just poured off me. It was raining and I was soaked and covered with Janine’s blood and brain. I freaked out. Started crying, and hitting the cop and punching him away with bloody hands. Whoever he was he didn’t hit back and he just took off his coat and put it on me. I waited for him to go away, which he did after a few minutes. I was alone, yet surrounded by all these people who didn’t know I was even there. I must have panicked… I took off. I ran as fast as I could. Through cars and police and firemen and the lights and rain. I had no idea where to go. I don’t remember how long I ran. Long enough to get me to a park about ten blocks away.

I remember seeing a bridge and going up to it and sitting on the concrete ledge. From here I could see the city and all the lights and smoke coming out of chimneys. Through burning eyes that wouldn’t stop tearing. It was cold and I was out of breath. Off in the distance I could hear music. I didn’t know it at the time but it was Pink Floyd’s Great Gig In the Sky. It made me cry harder. I looked at the city and that smoke was moving upwards-twisting and turning and forming into little clouds. I thought the clouds must be Janine’s spirit rising up. She was dancing once last time, to some obscure and awesome song that had no words to it.
The lady who screamed and oohed and awed to that tune must have been through this, I kept thinking to myself.

I wanted to kill myself. I didn’t want to be alive anymore and I thought Janine should be here, not me. Whoever that bullet was meant for, it got the wrong person. Janine didn’t deserve to die. She was only 17 and had her whole life ahead. She had plans too. She told me many times about how she wanted out of the life we were living. She wanted to be a teacher. She had plans to go back to school and college. Once she did all that she wanted to get married and have lots of babies. I had no plans and didn’t care about life. I really didn’t ever think about anything else. Not Janine. She saw her future and was trying to work her way out. And now she was dead and so were all her dreams. It wasn’t fucking fair. It was cruel.

I took out my kit from my bag, which I didn’t even realize til then I still had with me. I let the downpouring rain fill my tin and I poured all my smack into it. Stirred it up; lit the lighter under it and stirred it some more. Filled the syringe and put a needle into it. Then I put on the band really tight, waiting for a vein to swell out. And I shot up. I knew it was too much, I used all of what I had. I didn’t care. I wanted to die. I felt that heat sensation go all over, and I felt heart rate go way up. Then I passed out. I wouldn’t wake up for three months.

Somehow I ended up back on the east coast. I don’t remember how I got there or who brought me there. Jimmy and Kim were not with me. Patty had already gone back- to a shattered home where she wasn’t welcome. I guess Billy brought me to North Carolina…to Fayetteville (so I was told). The boomin little city of the times. There are lots of soldiers down there…Fort Bragg and Camp Lejeune. Lejeune is where my hubby met me. I say that because I don’t remember meeting him. I was too drunk and numb. He was a Marine.

I was at a bar off base near Lejeune when he met me. He took me to his friend’s trailer and wouldn’t let me shoot up or have drinks. I went through terrible withdrawals. He managed to stay with me the whole time and took care of me. He watched me go through the worst parts of my life in those couple weeks. He made sure I took the seizure meds and was just there.

Once I sobered up enough to see the world around me, I was in awe of this man who took me away from that life. He was my hero. We laughed and did everything together. The first time (and only time) I was in love. He taught me how to use a gun; how to jump from high rocks…into water or just for a landing. He taught me to drive. Most kids that age already had their licenses, not me. I have never driven an automatic-always had a standard and always will. He would me sneak onto the base at night and we go to the tanks and helicopters and into the barracks. It was fun.

We became fast friends and more…and he took me back to NH. First to my parents. Who were shocked and just didn’t want to deal with me. I guess I shamed them. Then he took me to his parents house, where I ended up staying for awhile. He traveled every weekend up to NH from CL to be with me, unless he was out in the field.

It felt good to be alive and to laugh. But ghosts from months past were always there. I always thought about Janine and that awful night. I always thought about heroin. And all those men I had been with. I got really sensitive to the scents and dress code of those days. Never again would I wear perfumes or dress in any way that might be like a bad girl. And I refused to wear makeup. (Still won’t).

During this time I got pregnant with my oldest daughter. She was born in January of 1983. I was 17. He got orders and was deployed to Beirut and left in July of that year. Three months later he lost 16 friends in the barracks bombing. I was sick to death with worry about him. They didn’t let him contact me for two weeks. Then he came home for leave and the sham wedding happened. He was (honorably) discharged in 1986. We moved me out of my parents place and down to where I live now…my small town that I love. With all it’s granite quarries and traffic jams on the oval; with all the cool little places I can go four wheelin’ and rollerblading. We had two more kids and our life just went on.

I don’t hold hubby totally responsible for that wedding. But I have never gotten over it and it is one reasons why we are having trouble now, I think. While I still have the highest respect for him, and I feel like I owe my life to him, things just aren’t right. We still see each other and we still fight everytime. That has to stop. It’s hard to do these things- break apart, yet trying to work it out. And not knowing if it is a total waste of time. Or if you are even really invested in getting back together. Everything you thought you knew about love goes down the drain too. It sucks and it is confusing as hell.

Kim
Kim and I hooked up soon after I found out I was expecting. She told me about how she and Jimmy hitchhiked cross country to get back to NH. She was a mess still though. She was still using smack and couldn’t get away from it. She met her hubby at a fishing tournament I managed to bring her to. He gave her the inspiration she needed to get off heroin. They got married before the year was out and she too was expecting. Her baby was born in May of 1983. We went back to school-at night. Got the diploma’s and both got jobs at a local factory in my town. She and I have been best friends ever since. We have always worked at the same places; we see each other at least twice a week, often more. We talk on the phone, several times a day, every day. We go online all the time, together to gossip and whatever. There isn’t anything we don’t know about each other, and I mean anything. There have been some relaspes with the smack. A few. We have been known to just go wild and we always regret it. It’s hard to stay on a wagon ride you don’t always think you need to be on.

Kim and I signed up for and went to CNA classes at a local university; we went at night and became LNA’s in 1988. It took us a year…We have been doing the work ever since. We have worked in nursing homes and hospices. Now we work at the same place, she works during the week and I just recently went to weekends. Up til last summer I worked side by side with her. We rule the place. And we really like what we do.

Patty
Patty had a hard time when she came back to NH. Her family wasn’t together at all. She had no where to go to, so she ended up living on the streets of Manchester for awhile. Then she met a guy who took her away from that scene and they have been together eversince. They lived together for years and got married about 5 years ago. They have two kids and they are very happy. She lives near Kim, but doesn’t work with us. She is a very funny lady and she parties with us when we get together.

Jimmy
Jimmy stopped using smack way back in SLC. He got his HS diploma through night school and then joined the Marines. (Why is it that all the men in my life are Marines?) He did 6 years, and while enlisted he got his degree in Political Science and Law Enforcement. After he got out, he went to work for a government agency. He has been there ever since. He got married in 1988 and has three kids. He lives in SLC, but travels all over the world in his duties. He has been in Iraq, Kuwait, Afghanistan and other places since September 11th. He and I maintain constant contact; he is the rock in my life and I worship every ground he walks on. He is always there for me. And I am always there for him.

Janine
There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think about Janine. She is always there, her soul, her ghost. Whenever I dance, I think of her. When we were out at Bryce Canyon, on those first few days of our long journey, we picked up lots of little japser rocks. We collected them, all colors and shapes. A few years ago Kim and I had them sanded and bored out; we had necklaces made for us. We wear them in Janine’s honor. I didn’t know it at the time but after everything was investigated and done, Jimmy had Janine’s remains cremated and her ashes spread out over Salt Lake. She loved that place. She wanted to be a teacher out there when she grew up, when she escaped the life.

Billy
Billy is dead. He was killed back out in SLC shortly after he dumped me at LeJeune. I don’t know all the details but I do know he was shot. That’s too kind of a way for him to have died as far as I am concerned. I would have liked to have a hand in that. We never found out who was responsible for Janine’s death. It had to be one of the dealers, who must have found out about the sting op Jimmy set up that night.

The friendships have endured all these years. Kim, Jimmy, Patty and me. It’s funny that most kids who go to school together tend to grow apart as they move on with their lives. For whatever reasons, we have not moved on. While we have lived out our lives on very different paths, we still think of each other all the time. There is a bond here that cannot be broken. We are lucky to have this.