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Me and Mikey both hit it at the same time. It was a sweet feeling, relaxing. We didn't care that we were risking it all. The feeling was almost worth it.
"Man, makes me want to shoot it in the main vein", he said giggling, half serious. We all had heard that it was the best feeling, but very few lasted long like that.
"We don't want to end the way of Tommy though." It used to be the three of us, Mike, Tommy and I. But awhile ago-
"Tommy died because he was an idiot, had no class. Just like all those others who would get it and do with anyone. We got class, and with that we get the same high as everyone else, just with less risk. Sweet and simple if you ask me!"
I take back what I said in the beginning; we so still care about the risks, just enough to make sure ours are less than the rest. "Not as high as those who hit the main vein." I laughed, teasing.
The only response I got from him was a long sigh; made me wonder if was actually thinking about it. It took awhile before I breached the subject again.
We had moved around for a bit. Putting our needles in arms, legs, even feet, whenever we got the chance. At some point, while working it into an arm covered with sores I asked him. "So have you really been thinking about it?"
He nodded back and forth, "What...?" He was slower than before. The kind of way one gets while on their way out. If the part of me that cared about my friend, had still been around, I would've told him to go back to our hometown. The swamp we called it. To go back home, hook up with a nice girl! Start a fucking family! Just end this dangerous life! Find something else to care about. However, that part of me had faded away a long time ago, like Tommy.
So I asked again," The Vein, you know the one I'm talking about. Are you really thinking about hitting it?"
"Why not? Isn't it the reason why we left The Swamp so long ago? To get the feeling were trying to get now?"
"But the danger man"
"Yeah.... I know but we all got to go sometime. Even if we had stayed at home, done something different or met someone else, it would end." He tried giving a loud laugh but I heard a strain of apathetic despair in it. "I'd like... I'd like to hit it just once to feel it before I die." He gave a sigh and after taking a small bit more into himself said, "When I feel like I'm on my last legs I think I will. Its our dream isn't it? Whether we believe it or not. To feel that hit of perfection. Isn't bliss worth death?" He grew more alive whilst speaking of this. "Maybe the exchange is worth even more than the life we exchange it for."

I never responded to what Mikey had said, and he never got to hit the vein he only dreamed of. Just like that, Mikey was gone.

Shaken, I removed the need from the sore covered arm and tried to get away from this lifestyle. Tried flying away as far as I could from it. It felt like days, weeks, even year of pain. My bones, if you could even call them that, felt like shattering glass. Every moment i thought I was breaking apart into a hundred pieces. I may have avoided putting my needle into the arm but I never stopped hovering around the source. Something inside me refused to let me leave. I was hungry for something special and I kept it always before me. The worst part of all the time I was abstaining, was what felt like years and decades to me, was probably just like seconds and minutes for the rest of the world. I was still right here in the same place i tried fleeing.
Even if I had gotten away, where was I to go? The air was cold. Mike and Tommy were gone and the swamp was less of a memory than Tommy. It was only me and I felt old, weak and with only one thing to do. Maybe the risk still mattered, but if it did, I couldn't see where.

When I drove my needle back into the arm, I don't know how it happened but I hit the main line. I could feel the skin tense and the blood going up and then - Do you know the tingly feeling you get when people are overly nice to you? When there's no spot or place for deceit. It started like that, then I was energized and relaxed at the same time. Like when you win the lottery or get that beautifully perfect kiss, and you know everything is going to be A O.K.. Somewhere in a numb part of my mind something told me to be careful, to mind the accelerating heartbeat and the shadows around me, but this was more important. This feeling was the most important thing in the world to maintain.
I had to finish this. Anyways what could ever stop me from feeling this absolute bliss?

And then I was gone. Killed deftly by the hand and gravity that I could no longer perceive.
I may be dead and unable to put my needle in anymore, but I don't think the lifestyle we lived will ever go away.
Some people will always be willing to die for bliss. No matter how they get it.

Charlie, or "Chuck" as he like to be called, looked at the dead insect on his arm. "Damn mosquitoes are everywhere. Hell, this one just managed to get my vein."
"Wow. Junkies." -Paul

They were in an old, red four seat sedan. Paul was in the drivers seat. Chuck was getting in the passenger seat, pushing his rucksack to rest on the back seat. A long card board sign that read 'Warsaw' was thrown on top of it. Next to it were a large number of nicely folded blankets. He avoided knocking them over or disrupting them.

It was still early summer. The trees a long the the highway were still a bright green and the sun was just beginning to bake the countryside. The brush had already started to fade yellow. The beaten up old Sedan showed obvious signs of wear and tear. A few dents, and pieces of paint falling off, however was the style of car where they were. The letters UA stood out on the European plates. They were in Ukraine.

"So Charlie,"

"Chuck."

"Ok. Chuck; heading all the way to Warsaw?"

"Yeah, trying to get there by night." Chuck said. Paul started up the car and quickly accelerated onto the road. He could hear the sounds of glass on glass somewhere in the back.

"Well I'm heading as far as Lublin tonight. So I can take you there, getcha inside the Polish Border at least. Cigarette?"

A pack of Lucky Strikes appeared before him.

"Yeah sure, why not?" Chuck had barely placed a Lucky Strike in his mouth, when a flame appeared before him, lighting it. He took a long inhale before saying, "Thanks man."

"So, Chuck, you got an interesting accent. Where yah from?"

He gave a sigh before answering. "The states". A few times telling people that he was American had helped out. Most of the time however, it resulted in bad situations. America, he guessed, had once been a good place to be from, but now a days most countries to the west despised Americans. This however was Ukraine, to the East, so it was more likely to be a good thing. Paul's English was good so the odds are it wouldn't mean he would try charging for the ride.

Some people seemingly learned English for just one purpose. To be able to overcharge people who are native speakers of the language. Chuck had learned never to trust English speaking Taxi drivers or Hotels. That was just asking to be ripped off. He sucked in a bit of smoke while thinking about it.

"Oh? Where in America?"

This was another question in Chucks mind that could be a problem. He choose to answer it in his clever way, "Santa Barbara, California if you know it." Ah yes the city then state response. It was dangerously treacherous to announce that you are from California. There are two images you can give off. 'Hollywood' so rich and arrogant, or if the person is a bit more learned you give off the San Francisco vibe. Which means girls with flowers in their hair, and gay marriages. The latter can land you in serious trouble in these Eastern countries.

Chuck tensed up a bit as he waited for Paul's response.

"I know it, man, been through it once or twice when I was younger. Before I moved here." Paul said, greatly alleviating Chucks tensions. "Before I moved here." He then placed a Cigarette in his mouth and lit it. "So if your from California, are you 420 friendly?

420 friendly. I term one never heard in Europe. Chuck realized that this guy definitely had been in America. '420 Friendly' a term and a way of asking if someone smokes weed. Marijuana, cannabis Sativa, or ganja however you call it. Its also the day smokers tend to have their unofficial holiday and official Marley Festivals. April 20th.

"Well, I'm friendly but I haven't smoked in a long time. Anxiety problems you know?" Chuck to a breath of fresh air. "Spent some time in America?"

Paul laughed out loud, "Maaan, I'm the same as you, 'cept I'm from Austin."

"Austin Texas? Really, awesomeness"

"Now there's that Californian accent and enthusiasm. What brings you to these parts of Europe?"

"Soul searching I guess," he laughed. "Trying to see the world."

"Want to know something funny?"

"Sure"

"I've heard of your story a thousand times over. The you know," Paul changed his tone to sound pompous, " 'I just finished college and now I'm going to find myself by going to Europe. Mhmm, gonna see just where my German, Italian, Scottish roots all come from.' Because that's just what everyone else does. But all them ended up staying at the Sheraton or the Marriott, coughing up $300 of mommies money a night, while shoveling down McDonald's burgers during their hole trip!"

"Oh yeah... I've met those kind of people your talking about, but I don't feel that strongly about it. They are just doing their thing ya know. Some are idiots I guess."

"Yeah anyways. I respect that your travelling the way you do. So where are you coming from?"

"Just about everywhere I s'ppose. Been working my way up from Istanbul for the last few days."

"Travelling by yourself?"

"Well not in the beginning. I had someone I was travelling with but she uh, left at some point." Chuck seemed bothered by this and Paul didn't want to start up an emotional conversation with an American. They were usually the worst always wanting pity and praise.

The car filled up with silence and both pretended to be heavily interested in smoking their cigarettes.

Paul threw his Cigarette out the window and spoke first. "Istanbul... Istanbul... Nice.... Ah, so how was the bargaining thing down there?" He said grasping at straws to avoid the pity conversation. The look that gleamed over Chucks eyes betrayed his irritated passion the subject.

"Oh man! You got to bargain or the place will eat you alive! Speaking English is like painting dollar bill signs on your forehead!" He said finishing his cig.

"Really now," Paul said happy to have dodged that bullet.

"Yeah, and I mean they will really try to rip you off, if they think they can. They don't put prices on anything so when you ask, they tent to just vie you a really high number."

"How high?"

"Well they use the Lira there, which is, like 75 cents. Now lets say you want a brass pin to commemorate your trip to the Muslim city.

"Alright, I can see this."

"So you go in to the shop, pick out your pin. Maybe one that's shaped like the country and has their red star and moon flag on it."

"Ok so one with the symbol of Islam on it."

"The Turkish Flag as well. So you ask, 'May I purchase your pin?'

"Ok, I'd probably do just that.

"This is a big mistake."

"So Ive made a mistake already?"

"Yes. This is a big mistake. Already he has you pegged for a tourist, an English speaking tourist, and now he knows that you admire this particular country shaped pin, In fact, he knows that, you want this pin no matter the price."

"So I should've asked for the price?"

"Right. Using the previously mentioned methods he'll just ring it up as 10, 15, or even 20 Lira. He probably knows that he's not fooling anyone with that price but he hopes to create a social awkwardness. You have shows your interest, and declared to buy this brass pin. To back out now would make you feel cheap and unnatural, or may even seem insulting. Can you believe they can charge 10 to 20 lira for a brass pin?"

"Well it does sound like a clever idea. Having both the country and flag displayed."

"It is nice but that's not the point. That's 8 to 15 American dollars! For something no bigger than a nickel, and made of brass and red paint. Would you spend $15 for something like that?"

"I guess not. So what happens when I ask for the price, will he give me an honest rate?"

"No, he'll still try and trip you off."

"Then whats the point?"

"He won't be able to charge so much. He is most likely going to say something like, "Its 6 Lira" or maybe just 5 Lira if you get lucky."

"5 Lira is too much? Isn't that only like $2.50."

"When your traveling on a budget it sure is." Chuck snapped back, " The good thing about asking the price is that it sets up grounds for bargaining. From here you can ask for a price that sounds more reasonable. Like 3 or 4 lira."

"And 3 or 4 Lira is a good deal?"

"When its for something that will help you remember your trip forever, then yes, 2 bucks is a great deal."

"Well, when you put it that way, I guess it is. How much did you end up paying?"

"6 Lira."

"6 Lira?"

"Yeah..."

"Not 3 or 4?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I was too eager. He wouldn't haggle. Besides, its a a really nice pin."

"I'm sure it is."

"Want to see it?"

"Sure."

Chuck leaned back and began rummaging through his backpack. He was mindful not to bother the folded blankets behind the drivers seat. He moved through his assortment of clothes, candies, gifts, even a stove. There were a lot of pockets on his 70 litre backpack and each one could contain the pin in a small corner. After a minute or so his back began to hurt and he gave up.

"Damn, I can't find it." Chuck said as Paul chortled.

The two lane Ukrainian "Highway", stretched on and on. Clouds every now and then lurked to shadow them for a time only to break up as the car sped a long the near empty road. Beams of light would sine down onto the fields and small hills of western Ukraine and every now and then they would pass through a small and desolate town in Ukraine. People would glance into the car smiling hoping for some sort of change in their monotonous lives to be delivered to them. This hopes were always wished away as the car continued on its path. Paul focused on the road and passing up trucks from time to time. Chuck looked out the window on the empty landscapes longingly. It was a little while before they finally spoke again.

"Hey Chuck."

"Yes?"

"May I ask yah a question?"

"Sure"

"If your travelling on a budget, how'd you figure out the stuff about bargaining."

"Haha. I guess a little from my youth but most of it was through getting ripped off enough times. Worst part is though, to start to learn I had to become aggressive and spend money to learn the system. You got to learn by buying things on your own terms."

"Uh-huh." They crossed over a stream, going a good 90km an hour. The sun was on its descent but still far from setting.

"So after a bit, I worked the prices in my favor. Cutting their initial prices in half or more. I thought I was doing well until I realized that even with all the haggling, I'm still spending a few dollars on items that, A: I don't really need, and B: would still be cheaper somewhere else, without haggling."

"So you stopped?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. There was a kind of a rush in it all. I may have been getting ripped off but it felt good to know that at least I wasn't getting ripped off as badly as the person before me. I was proud of that."

"Of being ripped off!?" Paul said with a loud laugh.

"Uh-huh, Anyways I've never gambled but I s'ppose that's where the addiction comes in. They may be losing money in the long run but at least its not as much as the average Joe."

"Maybe, but I don't think its quite like that. Can you wait a moment? We have to stop up here.

They were approaching a small town. So far the road had been pretty much straight with the occasional bridge. Chuck gripped his seat tightly as Paul made a 90degree turn while doing the equivalent number of kilometers an hour. He could hear the sound of glass on glass in the back again. The car decelerated a bit to avoid an oncoming car but then the engine roared as the re accelerated into the center of town. The car may have looked beaten up, but it certainly had a lot of muscle in it.

Hearing the screech of wheels and the vroom of the engine, people quickly moved out of the way of the car. Chuck's long hair began whipping back and forth, as he dug his fingers into the dashboard of the car. Paul looked over at Chuck and gave a large grin before he made yet another sharp turn and slowly stopped the car.

"Good, we are here." Somehow they were in someones backyard.

The roads in Ukraine are not particularly good. In fact, by American standards they are positively terrible.. Rarely flat and for the most part they are falling apart to just broken pieces of gravel. If there even was any gravel to begin with. Many non major roads were just dirt paths in the countryside of Ukraine.

"I've got to get something, so wait here a moment."

Paul left the car and went through the back door into a shack of a house. He briefly nodded to a bald guy standing near the doors in a teal track suit. Chuck shrugged.

When you hitch-hike for long periods of time you get acquainted with strange situations. Chuck had gotten rides with postmen doing their routes, small truckers dropping off car pats, to even some friendly Turks who'd seem to run into random buildings and return with sweets and gifts for him. Hitch-hiking brought you into a strange world. So he didn't think twice about being where he was.

Paul quickly came back out holding a 2 foot by 2 foot package completely covered in black electrical tape. He slid it into the trunk of the car and then they were on their way.

"Don't worry, I know the roads by heart." Paul said. The wheels still screamed as he burned through turn after turn. Missing potholes and slumps in the road, he weaved over both sides. When they got back on the Ukrainian 'Highway' Paul started talking.

"Now I like to gamble from time to time. Not really casinos; craps or even blackjack but I find my own ways to risk things."

"Oh I'm not say--"

"I got what your saying but I speculate it like this. its all about investing in memories. That's what gambling is to me. If you live life on $50 or 50 euros or whatever a day then you'll fall into a routine almost for sure. Each day becomes normal and unmemorable. However, lets say you put $10 a day to roulette. Most of the time you'll lose your $10 bucks, and live off of $40 a day. These days are still unmemorable even though your eating or drinking slightly less expensive products. Still unremarkable. Just with a little casino time in between. You know with the light and strange characters etc."

"Ok, I think I see where your going." Chuck said.

"Yeah. So maybe on of of 40 visits he wins by always placing his 10 buck chip on number 7. I'm not sure on the odds a casino pays on but lets say its 1:35 so his $10 chip is now a $350 chip. Which is the start of a very good night."

"Ok, but why doesn't he just save the money for those 40 nights and had a $400 night! That's what I'd do."

"Would you? Once we start saving we'd rather not blow it in a night to remember. Besides it follows a routine even if you did. Winning at roulette can never be predicted, its random after all. Plus when you win there's that golden feeling of luck that falls over you. That feeling that you just got something for nothing. You may have lost more than that but your mind doesn't think that far. Even if it does then there's still that feeling of a winning steak. That feeling that you may still come out far ahead."

"Wow, i never thought about it like that."

"Yeah and if you cash in your trips then. Its till the start of a very memorable night. One that could be written about, yah know?"

"I guess I didn't. So wait, you said you don't gamble in casinos and such. How do you gamble?"

"The borders are coming up. Hold on." He slowed down the car. A few km ahead the border crossing lay in wait. Dozens upon dozens of Polish and Ukrainian cars were waiting in lines.

"The Polish border?"

"Nope, this is the Ukrainian one. The Polish one is just beyond their neutral zone."

"Ah. Damn that was fast." Chuck said. Paul shrugged at this comment but kept a small smile on his face. He was a little proud of his fast driving.

"Oh, by the way. You asked what I do for kicks?" Paul began to say as Ukrainian guard began waving him a long. Paul leaned out the window with his American passport. "Moment man. Hey, Hey! Let me through!"

The officer glanced at it and the front of the car, and then waved for him to go on. Chuck was a bit confused as the line was moving fast enough but he guess this would shave a few minutes off for them.

"Why'd they let you cut in front of everyone?"

"Oh that? American License plate and passport. They tend to move everyone up on the line who's not Polish or Ukrainian."

"Really? Why? I thought you had Ukrainian Licence plates."

"Lots of smuggling on this border. Everyone is doing it. You'll see when we get to the Polish side that there are lots of people smuggling cigarettes and alcohol. I'd be willing to put $100 down that on the train over there- " A long with the road border check, there was a train station nearby with a train sitting in it, "- that the conductors have hordes of cigarettes their that they are smuggling."

"Oh wow."

"Yeah, most of the wait is just to stop Poles and Ukrainians from smuggling.

"Oh but don't you have Ukrainian Licence plates?"

"Oh, yes but I also have my American ones on the front, people do it for vanity and to get through these checks sometimes. Quicker."

"Ah. So you were saying about what you do for kicks."

"Oh yeah. I'm a smuggler. All that stress before and release afterwards gives me a great feeling. A memorable feeling."

"Oh, a smuggler." Chuck looked around to assess the situation and pondered what Paul had just told him. "Oh!"

"Yeah, but don't worry, just relax." He rolled down his window as he drove up to the border crossing booth. "Toss me your passport."

Chuck handed Paul his thick American passport. "Ah, I see you got yours in the last few years. One moment". Paul handed the two passports into the window. The guy seemed shocked at the sight of the two Americans, but all he said was "Ah! Americans!" He entered the information, handed them the passports back and ushered Paul and Chuck a long. One check-point down one to go.

They drove a short distance to the Polish border check. Here they were met by a long line of cars at a standstill.

"Poland's side is usually easier than the Ukrainian side. We got lucky this time as usually they'll harass us for money. Tell you your doing something wrong and ask for money to ignore it. That kind of thing.

"Oh, yeah but, hey. Wait. "Chuck was getting nervous about his drivers profession.

"Poland usually pushes us quickly just like what we experienced back their. They want us through so they can search the Ukrainians and Pollocks." He slowed to a stop behind a car.

"Wait. Are you smuggling now?"

Paul looked at Chuck incredulously, "Of course." He looked around before quickly driving to the front of the line. "But don't get cold feet now. Besides remember what I was talking about? About investing in memories?"

"Yeah but, oh fuck dude. This is crazy. I don't know maan." Chuck carried the maaannn in exaggeration. He didn't know what to do. He liked what Paul had said but to him this was risking it all. He felt his heart start to pound and wondered if he should bail. That however would be really messing over his driver who was courteous enough to pick him up and do him a favour.

"Here we go." Paul said as he wedged himself in between two cars at the front of the line. There was some swearing in Polish at first but the people seemed not to give much effort. "Yeah, go kurwa yourself."

"Whats kurwa?"

"Surely you've heard it? Its like the Polish word for fuck, I think it goes across most of the Eastern block countries."

Chuck nodded realizing now what a few people said to him earlier on during his trip.

He pulled up to the checkpoint and stopped the car at the window. The sound of the glass on glass in the back was all Chuck could hear. He couldn't believe he was going through with this. On such a whim and with someone he didn't know. It was completely crazy. He had once taken a bottle pills from Mexico to California but that was for personal use. He suspected this guy, Paul, carried a lot more than just a bottle of pills.

"Proprosza Documents i passports?"

Paul handed the guy their passports. "Hey, so how are you?" The question in English seemed to confuse the guy and irk him a bit. He choose not to respond. He thumbed through each passport then stamped them handing them back to Paul.

"See that was easy." Paul said as he started to drive away. "Shit." Two border patrolmen were approaching the car. He leaned out of the window.

"Hello, can I help you guys with something?" Paul said, as the patrolmen walked on each side of the car. The one near Chuck was overweight with a slack jaw and had a look that made Chuck think 'Idiot'.

The other one next to Paul's window had short uncombed hair, creeping out from under his cap and the look of a hangover. A 'I don't want to be here' look permeated from his face. Mr. I don't want to be hear said something in Polish to Paul.

"I don't understand. Can we go?" Paul said.

This made the guy look even more irritated. He fixed his posture and then asked "You Declare... something?"

"No nothing to declare. Can we go now?"

"Vodka, alcohol. Papierosy."

"No, no alcohol or cigarettes, can we go?" Paul began to put his car into gear when the slack jaw guy near Chuck put his hand on the sedan.

"No go. Moment" The one near Paul said as the lack jawed Paul said.

"Hey." Chuck leaned in to Paul. "Maybe you should just give up what you have. I don't see a way out of it. Besides with alcohol and cigarettes they won't give you the full 'Midnight Express' experience."

Paul laughed, "Not in this life man. I think there's still a chance to get out of this. Besides do you know what I did today?"

"Besides put a hitch-hiker in serious danger?"

"No, your not in any danger. No by anything I did. Anyways I did something amazing."

"Which was? I don't think now we should be coy with time." At this point a third more senior looking official was outside the car. They were yelling at each other and it was clear that they wanted to search the car. Just didn't know how to ask yet. Two of them had pulled out cells phones and were making calls.

"Earlier today. I had $100 and I went to a casino with it."

"Shit."

"No shitting you man. I went to a casino. I never go to them. I went to a casino and I waltzed over to the roulette table." One of the uniformed men was yelling into his cell phone in Polish about something. The senior official was talking into his walky talky. He looked to be telling the others to put their cell phones down. "Do you know what I did at that table?"

"I'm afraid to ask." Chuck was starting to sweat with fear. The senior official seemed to be hearing something he liked.

"I invested in memories. That's what I did. Now what are you going to do. There however it was the casino that made my fate. Here we can make our own." Paul returned the car to gear. "This could be the day to remember for the rest of your life. We'll get away. I know it."

"Fuck." Chuck weighed his options. The reality of it was that Paul was completely crazy but right. This was a cheap border checkpoint between Ukraine and Poland. Poland's borders were now EU but it was obvious that EU funding hadn't been received here. It was still nuts.

"Although sometimes other things intervene our fa-"

There was a flash. A bright blinding flash followed by a wave of heat and a thunderous sound. All this flowed into their heads. For a moment they both thought they had been shot. Chuck gave a whimper but Paul just grinned wildly.

There was a burning fire in the air. Whipping itself back and forth along the sky. Beneath it was the burning wreckage of a train car. Panic was everywhere else. People were running back and forth, confused to what happened. the officials ignored their car and started to run to other places.

"Now's our chance! If you want out get out now."

Chuck assessed the situation around him. He was not dead, he was alive. Something truly astounding or terrible had just happened and for some reason he started to consider everything Paul had said. "Alright I'm in.

"We'll never forget today now will we?" Paul said as he floored the car and the wheels squealed with delight. Chuck could still hear the sound of glass on glass in the back of the car.

Description
Me and Mikey both hit it at the same time. It was a sweet feeling, relaxing. We didn't care that we were risking it all. The feeling was almost worth it.
"Man, makes me want to shoot it in the main vein", he said giggling, half serious. We all had heard that it was the best feeling, but very few lasted long like that.
"We don't want to end the way of Tommy though." It used to be the three of us, Mike, Tommy and I. But awhile ago-
"Tommy died because he was an idiot, had no class. Just like all those others who would get it and do with anyone. We got class, and with that we get the same high as everyone else, just with less risk. Sweet and simple if you ask me!"
I take back what I said in the beginning; we so still care about the risks, just enough to make sure ours are less than the rest. "Not as high as those who hit the main vein." I laughed, teasing.
The only response I got from him was a long sigh; made me wonder if was actually thinking about it. It took awhile before I breached the subject again.
We had moved around for a bit. Putting our needles in arms, legs, even feet, whenever we got the chance. At some point, while working it into an arm covered with sores I asked him. "So have you really been thinking about it?"
He nodded back and forth, "What...?" He was slower than before. The kind of way one gets while on their way out. If the part of me that cared about my friend, had still been around, I would've told him to go back to our hometown. The swamp we called it. To go back home, hook up with a nice girl! Start a fucking family! Just end this dangerous life! Find something else to care about. However, that part of me had faded away a long time ago, like Tommy.
So I asked again," The Vein, you know the one I'm talking about. Are you really thinking about hitting it?"
"Why not? Isn't it the reason why we left The Swamp so long ago? To get the feeling were trying to get now?"
"But the danger man"
"Yeah.... I know but we all got to go sometime. Even if we had stayed at home, done something different or met someone else, it would end." He tried giving a loud laugh but I heard a strain of apathetic despair in it. "I'd like... I'd like to hit it just once to feel it before I die." He gave a sigh and after taking a small bit more into himself said, "When I feel like I'm on my last legs I think I will. Its our dream isn't it? Whether we believe it or not. To feel that hit of perfection. Isn't bliss worth death?" He grew more alive whilst speaking of this. "Maybe the exchange is worth even more than the life we exchange it for."

I never responded to what Mikey had said, and he never got to hit the vein he only dreamed of. Just like that, Mikey was gone.

Shaken, I removed the need from the sore covered arm and tried to get away from this lifestyle. Tried flying away as far as I could from it. It felt like days, weeks, even year of pain. My bones, if you could even call them that, felt like shattering glass. Every moment i thought I was breaking apart into a hundred pieces. I may have avoided putting my needle into the arm but I never stopped hovering around the source. Something inside me refused to let me leave. I was hungry for something special and I kept it always before me. The worst part of all the time I was abstaining, was what felt like years and decades to me, was probably just like seconds and minutes for the rest of the world. I was still right here in the same place i tried fleeing.
Even if I had gotten away, where was I to go? The air was cold. Mike and Tommy were gone and the swamp was less of a memory than Tommy. It was only me and I felt old, weak and with only one thing to do. Maybe the risk still mattered, but if it did, I couldn't see where.

When I drove my needle back into the arm, I don't know how it happened but I hit the main line. I could feel the skin tense and the blood going up and then - Do you know the tingly feeling you get when people are overly nice to you? When there's no spot or place for deceit. It started like that, then I was energized and relaxed at the same time. Like when you win the lottery or get that beautifully perfect kiss, and you know everything is going to be A O.K.. Somewhere in a numb part of my mind something told me to be careful, to mind the accelerating heartbeat and the shadows around me, but this was more important. This feeling was the most important thing in the world to maintain.
I had to finish this. Anyways what could ever stop me from feeling this absolute bliss?

And then I was gone. Killed deftly by the hand and gravity that I could no longer perceive.
I may be dead and unable to put my needle in anymore, but I don't think the lifestyle we lived will ever go away.
Some people will always be willing to die for bliss. No matter how they get it.

Charlie, or "Chuck" as he like to be called, looked at the dead insect on his arm. "Damn mosquitoes are everywhere. Hell, this one just managed to get my vein."
"Wow. Junkies." -Paul

They were in an old, red four seat sedan. Paul was in the drivers seat. Chuck was getting in the passenger seat, pushing his rucksack to rest on the back seat. A long card board sign that read 'Warsaw' was thrown on top of it. Next to it were a large number of nicely folded blankets. He avoided knocking them over or disrupting them.

It was still early summer. The trees a long the the highway were still a bright green and the sun was just beginning to bake the countryside. The brush had already started to fade yellow. The beaten up old Sedan showed obvious signs of wear and tear. A few dents, and pieces of paint falling off, however was the style of car where they were. The letters UA stood out on the European plates. They were in Ukraine.

"So Charlie,"

"Chuck."

"Ok. Chuck; heading all the way to Warsaw?"

"Yeah, trying to get there by night." Chuck said. Paul started up the car and quickly accelerated onto the road. He could hear the sounds of glass on glass somewhere in the back.

"Well I'm heading as far as Lublin tonight. So I can take you there, getcha inside the Polish Border at least. Cigarette?"

A pack of Lucky Strikes appeared before him.

"Yeah sure, why not?" Chuck had barely placed a Lucky Strike in his mouth, when a flame appeared before him, lighting it. He took a long inhale before saying, "Thanks man."

"So, Chuck, you got an interesting accent. Where yah from?"

He gave a sigh before answering. "The states". A few times telling people that he was American had helped out. Most of the time however, it resulted in bad situations. America, he guessed, had once been a good place to be from, but now a days most countries to the west despised Americans. This however was Ukraine, to the East, so it was more likely to be a good thing. Paul's English was good so the odds are it wouldn't mean he would try charging for the ride.

Some people seemingly learned English for just one purpose. To be able to overcharge people who are native speakers of the language. Chuck had learned never to trust English speaking Taxi drivers or Hotels. That was just asking to be ripped off. He sucked in a bit of smoke while thinking about it.

"Oh? Where in America?"

This was another question in Chucks mind that could be a problem. He choose to answer it in his clever way, "Santa Barbara, California if you know it." Ah yes the city then state response. It was dangerously treacherous to announce that you are from California. There are two images you can give off. 'Hollywood' so rich and arrogant, or if the person is a bit more learned you give off the San Francisco vibe. Which means girls with flowers in their hair, and gay marriages. The latter can land you in serious trouble in these Eastern countries.

Chuck tensed up a bit as he waited for Paul's response.

"I know it, man, been through it once or twice when I was younger. Before I moved here." Paul said, greatly alleviating Chucks tensions. "Before I moved here." He then placed a Cigarette in his mouth and lit it. "So if your from California, are you 420 friendly?

420 friendly. I term one never heard in Europe. Chuck realized that this guy definitely had been in America. '420 Friendly' a term and a way of asking if someone smokes weed. Marijuana, cannabis Sativa, or ganja however you call it. Its also the day smokers tend to have their unofficial holiday and official Marley Festivals. April 20th.

"Well, I'm friendly but I haven't smoked in a long time. Anxiety problems you know?" Chuck to a breath of fresh air. "Spent some time in America?"

Paul laughed out loud, "Maaan, I'm the same as you, 'cept I'm from Austin."

"Austin Texas? Really, awesomeness"

"Now there's that Californian accent and enthusiasm. What brings you to these parts of Europe?"

"Soul searching I guess," he laughed. "Trying to see the world."

"Want to know something funny?"

"Sure"

"I've heard of your story a thousand times over. The you know," Paul changed his tone to sound pompous, " 'I just finished college and now I'm going to find myself by going to Europe. Mhmm, gonna see just where my German, Italian, Scottish roots all come from.' Because that's just what everyone else does. But all them ended up staying at the Sheraton or the Marriott, coughing up $300 of mommies money a night, while shoveling down McDonald's burgers during their hole trip!"

"Oh yeah... I've met those kind of people your talking about, but I don't feel that strongly about it. They are just doing their thing ya know. Some are idiots I guess."

"Yeah anyways. I respect that your travelling the way you do. So where are you coming from?"

"Just about everywhere I s'ppose. Been working my way up from Istanbul for the last few days."

"Travelling by yourself?"

"Well not in the beginning. I had someone I was travelling with but she uh, left at some point." Chuck seemed bothered by this and Paul didn't want to start up an emotional conversation with an American. They were usually the worst always wanting pity and praise.

The car filled up with silence and both pretended to be heavily interested in smoking their cigarettes.

Paul threw his Cigarette out the window and spoke first. "Istanbul... Istanbul... Nice.... Ah, so how was the bargaining thing down there?" He said grasping at straws to avoid the pity conversation. The look that gleamed over Chucks eyes betrayed his irritated passion the subject.

"Oh man! You got to bargain or the place will eat you alive! Speaking English is like painting dollar bill signs on your forehead!" He said finishing his cig.

"Really now," Paul said happy to have dodged that bullet.

"Yeah, and I mean they will really try to rip you off, if they think they can. They don't put prices on anything so when you ask, they tent to just vie you a really high number."

"How high?"

"Well they use the Lira there, which is, like 75 cents. Now lets say you want a brass pin to commemorate your trip to the Muslim city.

"Alright, I can see this."

"So you go in to the shop, pick out your pin. Maybe one that's shaped like the country and has their red star and moon flag on it."

"Ok so one with the symbol of Islam on it."

"The Turkish Flag as well. So you ask, 'May I purchase your pin?'

"Ok, I'd probably do just that.

"This is a big mistake."

"So Ive made a mistake already?"

"Yes. This is a big mistake. Already he has you pegged for a tourist, an English speaking tourist, and now he knows that you admire this particular country shaped pin, In fact, he knows that, you want this pin no matter the price."

"So I should've asked for the price?"

"Right. Using the previously mentioned methods he'll just ring it up as 10, 15, or even 20 Lira. He probably knows that he's not fooling anyone with that price but he hopes to create a social awkwardness. You have shows your interest, and declared to buy this brass pin. To back out now would make you feel cheap and unnatural, or may even seem insulting. Can you believe they can charge 10 to 20 lira for a brass pin?"

"Well it does sound like a clever idea. Having both the country and flag displayed."

"It is nice but that's not the point. That's 8 to 15 American dollars! For something no bigger than a nickel, and made of brass and red paint. Would you spend $15 for something like that?"

"I guess not. So what happens when I ask for the price, will he give me an honest rate?"

"No, he'll still try and trip you off."

"Then whats the point?"

"He won't be able to charge so much. He is most likely going to say something like, "Its 6 Lira" or maybe just 5 Lira if you get lucky."

"5 Lira is too much? Isn't that only like $2.50."

"When your traveling on a budget it sure is." Chuck snapped back, " The good thing about asking the price is that it sets up grounds for bargaining. From here you can ask for a price that sounds more reasonable. Like 3 or 4 lira."

"And 3 or 4 Lira is a good deal?"

"When its for something that will help you remember your trip forever, then yes, 2 bucks is a great deal."

"Well, when you put it that way, I guess it is. How much did you end up paying?"

"6 Lira."

"6 Lira?"

"Yeah..."

"Not 3 or 4?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I was too eager. He wouldn't haggle. Besides, its a a really nice pin."

"I'm sure it is."

"Want to see it?"

"Sure."

Chuck leaned back and began rummaging through his backpack. He was mindful not to bother the folded blankets behind the drivers seat. He moved through his assortment of clothes, candies, gifts, even a stove. There were a lot of pockets on his 70 litre backpack and each one could contain the pin in a small corner. After a minute or so his back began to hurt and he gave up.

"Damn, I can't find it." Chuck said as Paul chortled.

The two lane Ukrainian "Highway", stretched on and on. Clouds every now and then lurked to shadow them for a time only to break up as the car sped a long the near empty road. Beams of light would sine down onto the fields and small hills of western Ukraine and every now and then they would pass through a small and desolate town in Ukraine. People would glance into the car smiling hoping for some sort of change in their monotonous lives to be delivered to them. This hopes were always wished away as the car continued on its path. Paul focused on the road and passing up trucks from time to time. Chuck looked out the window on the empty landscapes longingly. It was a little while before they finally spoke again.

"Hey Chuck."

"Yes?"

"May I ask yah a question?"

"Sure"

"If your travelling on a budget, how'd you figure out the stuff about bargaining."

"Haha. I guess a little from my youth but most of it was through getting ripped off enough times. Worst part is though, to start to learn I had to become aggressive and spend money to learn the system. You got to learn by buying things on your own terms."

"Uh-huh." They crossed over a stream, going a good 90km an hour. The sun was on its descent but still far from setting.

"So after a bit, I worked the prices in my favor. Cutting their initial prices in half or more. I thought I was doing well until I realized that even with all the haggling, I'm still spending a few dollars on items that, A: I don't really need, and B: would still be cheaper somewhere else, without haggling."

"So you stopped?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. There was a kind of a rush in it all. I may have been getting ripped off but it felt good to know that at least I wasn't getting ripped off as badly as the person before me. I was proud of that."

"Of being ripped off!?" Paul said with a loud laugh.

"Uh-huh, Anyways I've never gambled but I s'ppose that's where the addiction comes in. They may be losing money in the long run but at least its not as much as the average Joe."

"Maybe, but I don't think its quite like that. Can you wait a moment? We have to stop up here.

They were approaching a small town. So far the road had been pretty much straight with the occasional bridge. Chuck gripped his seat tightly as Paul made a 90degree turn while doing the equivalent number of kilometers an hour. He could hear the sound of glass on glass in the back again. The car decelerated a bit to avoid an oncoming car but then the engine roared as the re accelerated into the center of town. The car may have looked beaten up, but it certainly had a lot of muscle in it.

Hearing the screech of wheels and the vroom of the engine, people quickly moved out of the way of the car. Chuck's long hair began whipping back and forth, as he dug his fingers into the dashboard of the car. Paul looked over at Chuck and gave a large grin before he made yet another sharp turn and slowly stopped the car.

"Good, we are here." Somehow they were in someones backyard.

The roads in Ukraine are not particularly good. In fact, by American standards they are positively terrible.. Rarely flat and for the most part they are falling apart to just broken pieces of gravel. If there even was any gravel to begin with. Many non major roads were just dirt paths in the countryside of Ukraine.

"I've got to get something, so wait here a moment."

Paul left the car and went through the back door into a shack of a house. He briefly nodded to a bald guy standing near the doors in a teal track suit. Chuck shrugged.

When you hitch-hike for long periods of time you get acquainted with strange situations. Chuck had gotten rides with postmen doing their routes, small truckers dropping off car pats, to even some friendly Turks who'd seem to run into random buildings and return with sweets and gifts for him. Hitch-hiking brought you into a strange world. So he didn't think twice about being where he was.

Paul quickly came back out holding a 2 foot by 2 foot package completely covered in black electrical tape. He slid it into the trunk of the car and then they were on their way.

"Don't worry, I know the roads by heart." Paul said. The wheels still screamed as he burned through turn after turn. Missing potholes and slumps in the road, he weaved over both sides. When they got back on the Ukrainian 'Highway' Paul started talking.

"Now I like to gamble from time to time. Not really casinos; craps or even blackjack but I find my own ways to risk things."

"Oh I'm not say--"

"I got what your saying but I speculate it like this. its all about investing in memories. That's what gambling is to me. If you live life on $50 or 50 euros or whatever a day then you'll fall into a routine almost for sure. Each day becomes normal and unmemorable. However, lets say you put $10 a day to roulette. Most of the time you'll lose your $10 bucks, and live off of $40 a day. These days are still unmemorable even though your eating or drinking slightly less expensive products. Still unremarkable. Just with a little casino time in between. You know with the light and strange characters etc."

"Ok, I think I see where your going." Chuck said.

"Yeah. So maybe on of of 40 visits he wins by always placing his 10 buck chip on number 7. I'm not sure on the odds a casino pays on but lets say its 1:35 so his $10 chip is now a $350 chip. Which is the start of a very good night."

"Ok, but why doesn't he just save the money for those 40 nights and had a $400 night! That's what I'd do."

"Would you? Once we start saving we'd rather not blow it in a night to remember. Besides it follows a routine even if you did. Winning at roulette can never be predicted, its random after all. Plus when you win there's that golden feeling of luck that falls over you. That feeling that you just got something for nothing. You may have lost more than that but your mind doesn't think that far. Even if it does then there's still that feeling of a winning steak. That feeling that you may still come out far ahead."

"Wow, i never thought about it like that."

"Yeah and if you cash in your trips then. Its till the start of a very memorable night. One that could be written about, yah know?"

"I guess I didn't. So wait, you said you don't gamble in casinos and such. How do you gamble?"

"The borders are coming up. Hold on." He slowed down the car. A few km ahead the border crossing lay in wait. Dozens upon dozens of Polish and Ukrainian cars were waiting in lines.

"The Polish border?"

"Nope, this is the Ukrainian one. The Polish one is just beyond their neutral zone."

"Ah. Damn that was fast." Chuck said. Paul shrugged at this comment but kept a small smile on his face. He was a little proud of his fast driving.

"Oh, by the way. You asked what I do for kicks?" Paul began to say as Ukrainian guard began waving him a long. Paul leaned out the window with his American passport. "Moment man. Hey, Hey! Let me through!"

The officer glanced at it and the front of the car, and then waved for him to go on. Chuck was a bit confused as the line was moving fast enough but he guess this would shave a few minutes off for them.

"Why'd they let you cut in front of everyone?"

"Oh that? American License plate and passport. They tend to move everyone up on the line who's not Polish or Ukrainian."

"Really? Why? I thought you had Ukrainian Licence plates."

"Lots of smuggling on this border. Everyone is doing it. You'll see when we get to the Polish side that there are lots of people smuggling cigarettes and alcohol. I'd be willing to put $100 down that on the train over there- " A long with the road border check, there was a train station nearby with a train sitting in it, "- that the conductors have hordes of cigarettes their that they are smuggling."

"Oh wow."

"Yeah, most of the wait is just to stop Poles and Ukrainians from smuggling.

"Oh but don't you have Ukrainian Licence plates?"

"Oh, yes but I also have my American ones on the front, people do it for vanity and to get through these checks sometimes. Quicker."

"Ah. So you were saying about what you do for kicks."

"Oh yeah. I'm a smuggler. All that stress before and release afterwards gives me a great feeling. A memorable feeling."

"Oh, a smuggler." Chuck looked around to assess the situation and pondered what Paul had just told him. "Oh!"

"Yeah, but don't worry, just relax." He rolled down his window as he drove up to the border crossing booth. "Toss me your passport."

Chuck handed Paul his thick American passport. "Ah, I see you got yours in the last few years. One moment". Paul handed the two passports into the window. The guy seemed shocked at the sight of the two Americans, but all he said was "Ah! Americans!" He entered the information, handed them the passports back and ushered Paul and Chuck a long. One check-point down one to go.

They drove a short distance to the Polish border check. Here they were met by a long line of cars at a standstill.

"Poland's side is usually easier than the Ukrainian side. We got lucky this time as usually they'll harass us for money. Tell you your doing something wrong and ask for money to ignore it. That kind of thing.

"Oh, yeah but, hey. Wait. "Chuck was getting nervous about his drivers profession.

"Poland usually pushes us quickly just like what we experienced back their. They want us through so they can search the Ukrainians and Pollocks." He slowed to a stop behind a car.

"Wait. Are you smuggling now?"

Paul looked at Chuck incredulously, "Of course." He looked around before quickly driving to the front of the line. "But don't get cold feet now. Besides remember what I was talking about? About investing in memories?"

"Yeah but, oh fuck dude. This is crazy. I don't know maan." Chuck carried the maaannn in exaggeration. He didn't know what to do. He liked what Paul had said but to him this was risking it all. He felt his heart start to pound and wondered if he should bail. That however would be really messing over his driver who was courteous enough to pick him up and do him a favour.

"Here we go." Paul said as he wedged himself in between two cars at the front of the line. There was some swearing in Polish at first but the people seemed not to give much effort. "Yeah, go kurwa yourself."

"Whats kurwa?"

"Surely you've heard it? Its like the Polish word for fuck, I think it goes across most of the Eastern block countries."

Chuck nodded realizing now what a few people said to him earlier on during his trip.

He pulled up to the checkpoint and stopped the car at the window. The sound of the glass on glass in the back was all Chuck could hear. He couldn't believe he was going through with this. On such a whim and with someone he didn't know. It was completely crazy. He had once taken a bottle pills from Mexico to California but that was for personal use. He suspected this guy, Paul, carried a lot more than just a bottle of pills.

"Proprosza Documents i passports?"

Paul handed the guy their passports. "Hey, so how are you?" The question in English seemed to confuse the guy and irk him a bit. He choose not to respond. He thumbed through each passport then stamped them handing them back to Paul.

"See that was easy." Paul said as he started to drive away. "Shit." Two border patrolmen were approaching the car. He leaned out of the window.

"Hello, can I help you guys with something?" Paul said, as the patrolmen walked on each side of the car. The one near Chuck was overweight with a slack jaw and had a look that made Chuck think 'Idiot'.

The other one next to Paul's window had short uncombed hair, creeping out from under his cap and the look of a hangover. A 'I don't want to be here' look permeated from his face. Mr. I don't want to be hear said something in Polish to Paul.

"I don't understand. Can we go?" Paul said.

This made the guy look even more irritated. He fixed his posture and then asked "You Declare... something?"

"No nothing to declare. Can we go now?"

"Vodka, alcohol. Papierosy."

"No, no alcohol or cigarettes, can we go?" Paul began to put his car into gear when the slack jaw guy near Chuck put his hand on the sedan.

"No go. Moment" The one near Paul said as the lack jawed Paul said.

"Hey." Chuck leaned in to Paul. "Maybe you should just give up what you have. I don't see a way out of it. Besides with alcohol and cigarettes they won't give you the full 'Midnight Express' experience."

Paul laughed, "Not in this life man. I think there's still a chance to get out of this. Besides do you know what I did today?"

"Besides put a hitch-hiker in serious danger?"

"No, your not in any danger. No by anything I did. Anyways I did something amazing."

"Which was? I don't think now we should be coy with time." At this point a third more senior looking official was outside the car. They were yelling at each other and it was clear that they wanted to search the car. Just didn't know how to ask yet. Two of them had pulled out cells phones and were making calls.

"Earlier today. I had $100 and I went to a casino with it."

"Shit."

"No shitting you man. I went to a casino. I never go to them. I went to a casino and I waltzed over to the roulette table." One of the uniformed men was yelling into his cell phone in Polish about something. The senior official was talking into his walky talky. He looked to be telling the others to put their cell phones down. "Do you know what I did at that table?"

"I'm afraid to ask." Chuck was starting to sweat with fear. The senior official seemed to be hearing something he liked.

"I invested in memories. That's what I did. Now what are you going to do. There however it was the casino that made my fate. Here we can make our own." Paul returned the car to gear. "This could be the day to remember for the rest of your life. We'll get away. I know it."

"Fuck." Chuck weighed his options. The reality of it was that Paul was completely crazy but right. This was a cheap border checkpoint between Ukraine and Poland. Poland's borders were now EU but it was obvious that EU funding hadn't been received here. It was still nuts.

"Although sometimes other things intervene our fa-"

There was a flash. A bright blinding flash followed by a wave of heat and a thunderous sound. All this flowed into their heads. For a moment they both thought they had been shot. Chuck gave a whimper but Paul just grinned wildly.

There was a burning fire in the air. Whipping itself back and forth along the sky. Beneath it was the burning wreckage of a train car. Panic was everywhere else. People were running back and forth, confused to what happened. the officials ignored their car and started to run to other places.

"Now's our chance! If you want out get out now."

Chuck assessed the situation around him. He was not dead, he was alive. Something truly astounding or terrible had just happened and for some reason he started to consider everything Paul had said. "Alright I'm in.

"We'll never forget today now will we?" Paul said as he floored the car and the wheels squealed with delight. Chuck could still hear the sound of glass on glass in the back of the car.