Kids To Feed

So many years had passed that the drug dealer forgot even where he
stored his college diploma. Simply, it was something he never used
or needed in the meantime. When he did find the diploma that he
once was so proud of in a yellowed envelope inside an even more age
yellowed box in his old room at his parents' home, he dusted it all
off. He had already decided it was time to change to a legitimate
means of earning an income.

Not that he had really intended to become a drug dealer way back
when. It just sort of happened, he would tell people. Each time when
he moved more and more quantities of drugs to people he always
knew and trusted all his life, the easier it became to grow more
comfortable with pocketing the thick wads of money and enjoying
the benefits of not being confined to an office, desk or regular work
hours as his miserable corporate friends seemed to be.

That the drug dealer - or should I say
former drug dealer since, after
all, our main character is or claims to be reformed now - never was
arrested was certainly a plus for his resume development and job
hunting. After the first couple job interviews in the real world, he
grew more comfortable lying and claiming that he was self employed
for fourteen years. In ways,  he was. Depending on the interview and
available job, he claimed he owned and operated everything from a
lawn care or construction company to a restaurant and even an
online employment agency. He had to account for those missing
years on a resume somehow.

About the time he decided to change his life and go legit, a friend
was signing up to take state and federal civil service tests. Our boy
also signed up for the tests and took a few on the state and federal
levels possibly to open up his opportunities. He was always a bright
kid and student. He always learned quickly and retained
information that he learned. He pulled down As and Bs throughout
school and college with little to no studying needed. Though it had
been years since he was in college, he knew he would rank highly on
civil service rolls. When he took the tests, he breezed right through
the questions and left there confident that he would get one of the
top paying jobs in his field.

Before he became a drug dealer, he taught school as a substitute
teacher. He worked almost every day of that school year, but had no
health insurance. A broken leg about bankrupted him. That's when
he heard of a great deal on two pounds of Hawaiian marijuana. He
thought it all out and then withdrew what savings he had left,
partially paid the man and owed him about half of what the going
price was then. As he leaked word out and he sold the pot to his
close friends in quantities of one to four ounces, he paid the dealer
before the due date and the second pound he sold was his complete
profit. His close friends were back within two weeks, and he
certainly was on his way establishing a thriving business.

Though he never worried about the close friends he sold to, he did
occasionally worry about the man who sold him the great deals. Our
main character drove sometimes four or five hours to meet the
connection and only once was he allowed to bring anyone with him.
The rest of the time, he drove home with two duffel bags full of
pungent pot that smelled like skunk. It was so strong an odor that he
bought two rubbermaid storage bins that fit into two slightly larger
rubbermaid storage bins to stash his duffel bags into on the way
home from those runs to meet the big guy.

Once he made his buy, he drove home slowly and always made sure
that all his tail lights worked. He carried replacement bulbs and
even a replacement headlight in the trunk. He wanted to give no
police officer any just cause to pull him over. He always kept the car
registration, insurance card and his license on the visor and two
stinky cigars in the glove box to hurry and light incase he happened
upon a routine police stop checking for registration and insurance
on his way home. He rarely ever drank alcohol, but absolutely had
not even one beer or drink on days he was driving for a deal. He
almost always made morning deals so that he was less likely to
encounter a routine police check on the highway that normally
happens at night.

By all drug dealing standards, he was a "smart" dealer. He didn't use
drugs and he didn't take chances selling to people he didn't know
well. There was no need. Those he sold to were his trusted life-long
and school friends, kids he grew up with and nobody else. Some of
them even were unaware that he was actually a dealer himself for
the first couple years. They just thought for the longest time that he
happened to know someone and picked up their ounces and quarter
pounds as he would a neighbor who asked him to stop at the store
for her for a loaf of bread.

When he first met the woman who would become his wife, he told
her that he worked from home for a broker and sold real estate.
There was a grain of truth to that lie. He actually did sell a nice
house for a firm during the three whole days he worked there. He
underestimated the time it would take to sell a house and realized he
had beginner's luck. The sale of the house on a lot of prime property
gave him a windfall of cash, more cash to use to buy an additional
two more duffel bags of Hawaiian on his next drive to meet the man.

When the woman he married realized that her husband wasn't
selling houses anymore, she packed to leave him. She came back to
him when he explained how safe his actual profession was. And
when he walked her around the yard and showed her the places he
had money buried outside and how much cash was in those
underground boxes, she stayed. Her parents worked hard and saved
all their lives, but still had little to show in comparison.

That our boy never filed income tax returns from the ages of 24 until
30 might have seemed suspicious. So that's when he tried real estate
so he would have an actual legit income to use for filing. He
inherited two small apartment buildings from his grandparents
around the same time, so income from those rentals solved his
problem of needing legitimate income to enter on tax forms. Both
apartment buildings were nicer older residences, well maintained.
They needed nothing but occasional minor repairs.

After his second child was born, he brought his wife and new baby
home from the hospital and within a few hours was on the road to
meet his man for another deal. He was in such a happy mood. He
had a son and a beautiful two year old daughter who would make a
great big sister. Life was good.

When he arrived at the destination, made the deal and had his car
packed for the return home, he was shocked when his distributor
announced that he was moving away and would not be around
anymore for their deals. He took the phone number of his
distributor's successor, a brother in law who he was told was "older
but cool." Our main character dealer drove home unsure if he would
ever meet that new person or not.

Since this might have been his last deal, our main character here
told his friends to make their bags last longer and urged them to try
to find other sources for their top shelf pot that he could bring
himself to smoke and pollute his lungs with only twice. His friends
were shocked as he had been to hear that it all might be coming to
an end. One of them urged him to contact the brother in law of the
relocated distributor and introduce the two of them. His friend
wanted to take over our main character's route and illegal business.
Against his better judgement, he made that call and the two of them
drove to meet the new distributor. They were taken aback when they
met the 60-year-old man who drove a BMW. He was a well
established legitimate businessman who wanted the drug route for a
short-term basis to add to his retirement fund.

"Plus, as do you, I have kids to feed," the new distributor said to our
main character.

Only the new distributor wasn't willing to deal in the future or even
the present with our main character's friend. Simply put, our main
character's wanna be dealer friend was a self proclaimed pot fiend.
Contrary to being told not to talk during the transaction, the wanna
be dealer friend admitted being a pot fiend and laughed about how
good the Hawaiian pot is. None of his idle giddy talk went over well
in that situation. The new distributor had too much to lose, owned
much too much property and nice vehicles such as the BMW and a
couple car dealerships to chance losing his possessions in forfeit if
he were arrested.

So to complete the deal that day, our main character's wanna be
dealer friend had to leave the scene and stay put at a diner until the
transaction was over. When they were alone, the new distributor in
the BMW mentioned that he had some quality cocaine as well to
move. Our main character here clearly stated that he was not
interested in that.

Driving back to town, our main character was upset with the wanna
be dealer for not listening to him and running his mouth. The
wanna be dealer whined and wanted badly to sample the stash. He
didn't want to wait another two hours to get home to do so. They
fought. They yelled. Then they stopped on a rural roadside. Before
our main character had a chance to get out a tampon from the glove
box for his friend to use its paper wrapper as a rolling paper, the
friend already was in the trunk, rubbermaid containers and duffel
bag and had put a bit of the moist Hawaiian pot in a small pipe and
lit it.

"I'm not on my period," the wanna be dealer said as he grew red
faced and tried to hold in the smoke and speak. Then he laughed
when he choked and exhaled at our main character handing him
the Tampax paper.

Our main character was just livid. He said prior to leaving that no
pipes, papers, bongs or paraphernalia were to be brought along for
the ride. He expected his wishes to be followed. After he watched his
friend lite the pipe a few more times, he made the wanna be dealer
friend toss the pipe into the woods before they pulled out and made
their way home. That's how careful he wanted to be on those trips.
He knew then that he would never travel again with anyone else in
the car with him when making deals.

Although he never fully trusted the new distributor, he continued to
meet once every 2-3 weeks with him for months to exchange money
for weed. There was never a problem except for a trip after
Thanksgiving when the distributor was not there waiting for him. He
drove home angry, then got scared. He was almost back home when
his cell phone rang. The distributor said he had a family emergency
and apologized. Said he'd make it up to him if he could come back
the next day. Our boy drove back the next day and took the extra
free ounce of pot for his inconvenience and trouble.

The more trips he made north to meet the distributor, the easier it
got for our main character. The money he made was twice what he
could be making in the real job market. His distributor liked him
because he never asked to get his weed fronted and always paid in
full up front each time. As a bonus and sign of appreciation, the new
distributor handed him a small bag of white powder.

"Here's a Christmas present," the new distributor told him that
December 23rd.

"What's this?" our main character asked.

"Cocaine. Very good cocaine," the older man said, urging him to sell
it if he didn't want it for himself or his wife.

"Thank you kindly, but I don't want it. Merry Christmas," our main
character said handing the distributor a case of Rolling Rock, a local
beer the distributor mentioned he liked but could no longer find in
his hometown.

"I'll be in touch after New Years," our main character said to the
distributor who smiled at the green bottled beer that he missed. Our
boy got in his car and started to drive home keeping one eye on the
road behind him. He was never this scared since his first deal years
before.

Although he made it back to town safely and without incident, our
main character started to get scared again when the new distributor
failed to return his call the next week to schedule another meeting
and deal for the following week. Friends were waiting for a new
supply and so was he. Two weeks turned into four weeks and it was
the beginning of February before the new distributor returned his
call. He said he had been on vacation and apologized for forgetting to
tell him. Our main character was unsure whether or not to believe
him. He thought that going away for a month on vacation was
something significant enough that the distributor should have have
mentioned two days before Christmas when they met and he
commented to the distributor that he would be in touch after New
Years. Nonetheless, they scheduled to meet in two days. Overnight
after the phone call, our main character woke up around 3 AM
scared.
Continued