”“I’m calling the Heroin Hotline.” Terry had left my phone on the kitchen table.Donald shook his head and cried.“Hello, we’re poor and my ...usband is addicted. What can I do to help him?”The young man on the other end of the line was eager to show his commitment. “There’s a public treatment center in Bellevue. I can forward your call.”BELLEVUE! I’m in gods damned Ranier! I wanted to yell. It takes three buses and as many hours to get there. Donald would be puking his guts by the time he got. It was only light sprinkles so it was nothing to be concerned about. If I had an umbrella it would have been a waste of energy to pop it open. I could never get stupid umbrellas closed anyway. It was like umbrellas had something against me. I had no idea what I did to them. Perhaps in a past life I was a dog that urinated on them?When I got home I did first what I always did first. I headed to the kitchen. I took two pieces of bread, saturated both in mayo, and piled it with lunch meat. It was. More

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