Junkie by William S. Burroughs

Author:William S. Burroughs [Burroughs, William S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)
Published: 1969-03-13T16:00:00+00:00

“Well, I guess we’ll have to try Old Sam, ” McKinney said.

We began looking for Old Sam above Lee Circle. [Old Sam was “the Man these days.” It was was after doing twelve years in Angola. He] Old Sam was not in the old frame rooming house where he lived. We drove around slowly. Every now and then Pat would see someone he knew and stop the car. No one had seen Old Sam. Some of the characters Pat called to just shrugged in a disagreeable way and kept walking.

“Those guys wouldn’t tell you nothing, ” Pat said. “It hurts ‘em to do anybody a favor.”

We parked the car near Old Sam’s rooming house, and McKinney walked down to the corner to buy a package of cigarettes. He came back limping fast and got in the car.

“The law, ” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

We started away from the curb and a prowl car passed us. I saw the cop at the wheel turn around and do a doubletake when he saw Pat.

“They’ve made us, Pat, ” I said. “Get going!”

Pat didn’t need to be told. He gunned the car and turned a corner heading for Corondolet. I turned to Cole, who was in the back seat. “Throw out that weed, ” I ordered.

“Wait a minute, ” Cole replied. “We may lose them.”

“Are you crazy?” I said. Pat, McKinney and I yelled in chorus “Throw it out!”

We were on Corondolet headed downtown. Cole threw the weed out and it skidded under a parked car. Pat took the first right turn into a one-way street. The prowl car was coming down the same street from the other end, going the wrong way. An old cop trick. We were boxed in. I heard Cole yell, “Oh, Lord, I’ve got another stick on me!”

The cops jumped out with their hands on their guns, but they did not draw them. They ran up to my car. One of them, the driver who had spotted Pat, had a big smile on his face. “Where did you get the car, Pat?” he asked.

The other cop opened the back door. “Everybody out, ” he said.

McKinney and Cole were in the back seat. They got out and the cops went through them. Right away the cop who spotted Pat found the stick of weed in Cole’s shirt pocket.

“I’ve got enough here to Hold the whole bunch of them, ” he said. This cop had a smooth red face and he kept smiling all the time. He found my gun in the glove compartment. “This is a foreign gun, ” he said. “Have you got it registered with the Internal Revenue Department?”

“I thought that only applied to full automatic weapons, ” I said, “that fire more than one shot with one pull of the trigger.”

“No, ” said the cop smiling, “it applies to all foreign automatics.” I knew he was wrong, but there was no percentage in telling him so. He looked at my arms. “You’ve been hooking that spot so much it’s about to get infected, ” he said, pointing to a needle welt.

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