Twin Guitars

Speak Of The Devil And He Shall Appear

Chapter Two

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Jumping out of my sleep I grab the phone and put it to my ear. " This better be life or death. " I say looking at the clock that reads four fifty am.

 Damn it! Bibi didn't leave until two and I'm supposed to be up to go Christmas shopping at the crack of dawn.  There are literally no gifts under our tree or hidden in that back of my closet yet. I know, I wouldn't go through this if I didn't wait until the last minute but mama bear gets busy.

Come open your door.

I freeze at the voice on the end of the phone. I haven't heard it in years. " Slash? Where are you. "

I just told yo-

And that's when he hacks up a lung on the other end.

Just come open your door, Honey.

He finally gets out after almost throwing up. Growling I push the covers off and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Going into the hallway I shiver at the cold floor on my bare feet.  Opening the front doot I squint and see him propped against the side of the house. It looks like his hair is matted under his signature top hat and he has dirt caked all over his clothes. Shaking heavily he pulls himself up against the doorway.

" My God Slash what the hell have you done to yourself? " I say finally before grabbing his hand and helping him in.

I haven't seen this man in over three years and now he turns up on my doorstep looking like literal death. Leading him to the bathroom I turn the light on and took a good look at him. he is skinny under the dirty clothing he's wearing... Scary skinny. And he smells... Really bad. For a moment I thank God my daughter is not here.

" Have you been rolling around in horse shit? " I ask shaking my head and plugging my nose.

He mumbles out something that sounds like, " I can't remember ".

" Okay, time to get you clean. " I tell him as I turn the shower on.

Slash just stands there looking at me, at least I think he is... With his hair in his face most of the time you can never be sure. Sighing I lift his crusty shirt over his head with little to no help from him. Little flakes of dirt fall to the floor under us. Throwing it down I go to work on his belt buckle. He is commando under his pants so I let them drop to the floor.

Turning towards the shower I say, " come on ".

I open the shower curtain and wait for him to move. He still doesn't move. The tremors that are going through his body won't allow him to. I help him sit on the toilet so he can hold on to the sink until it passes. Looking back to the shower running, I know I have to switch strategies. Pushing the stopper down on the faucet I let the tub fill up.

Grabbing a bottle of my favorite bubble bath I pour some in and let it permeate. Going back to the shivering mess of a man I attempt to move his hair back from his eyes.

" Slash look at me. " I tell him firmly.

He doesn't but mumbles something like " my eyes hurt. "

Going over to the light switch I dim the light to a bearable wattage. Going back to him I ask, " What are you coming down from? "

" Blow. " He says putting his head in his hands.

I can't help the relief that floods through me. Of course, I don't condone cocaine, but it's not heroin. That's another kind of beast. Going into a drawer I get a bar of cocoa butter soap and a scruffy loofah.