BUCKS FOR A SIN

BEEP
First thing in the morning:
Sender: Shneider2
Message: yo.dont test us cos we smokd krak fri nite.here told u in advans.peace out
Sent: 05:14:22 07/05/06

I swing my legs out of bed, wash hands and check on Vidoo. Asleep, good.
As I boil water I call Benny.
'Got text?' I ask.
He grunts.

'G'morning, anyway. Schneider just confessed about some rock.' I cheerfully persist.
'Absolution, baby. Absolution,' he drawls. I hate waking up males at such magical hours.
'This is his umpteenth time running this routine. He know we'll test him.'
'You got my OK.'
'Cheers, boss. I just don't get why he'd announce it every time. I mean, does it make him feel more secure or something?' I sip my coffee, gesturing wildly to the phone. 'Do I care if he smoked crack or not? I do, but not in the way this is turning out to be. Smoke away your gray cells. Seek therapy. Bite me.'
'Know what I'm thinking?' Benny intervenes.
'Go ahead.'
'I think that for a woman your size, you talk quite a lot in the morning.'
Laughing, I apologize. 'Go back to sleep. You'll find the results on your desk.'

I pedal my pink bike to the center. Sunrise is humid and orchids waft heavily. For breakfast, Schneider and Co. each receive a plastic cup and line up by the john. Polo tests the steaming urine as I retreat to the office.
Schneider's natural spikes peek around the door. 'Can I talk to you for a sec?'
'Have a seat.'

He lounges, spreading his arms widely across my tiny desk. 'We're all positive.'
'D'uh.'
'And grounded?'
I nod. 'Plus, consider all your basketball matches postponed for the next 3 weeks.'
'Damn. Essays?' he asks comfortably.
'Of course. Due this afternoon. Decadence of act, future avoidance and prevention, the works.'
'And signed?'
'Schneider, this won't work if you're not committed to the program.'
'Don't get all corny, May,' he says. 'If not for the program, I'd be jettin' real stuff.'
'Now you're being corny. I don't care what you're capable of scraping. You're capable of quitting, so freakin' quit.'
'Yessir,' he grins.

I spin around in my chair and open the window. The night's moisture still hasn't left the world. 'Schneider, let's cut a deal. Two months you keep clean – real clean, codeine clean – and you get $1000.'
'No shit.'
'None whatsoever. On my honor.' Thank the fundraisers, punk.
'And if I don’t?'
'Then no 1000 bucks for you.'
'No, what do I do?'
'You mean, like a mutual bet? A reciprocal?' he nods, but this spins beyond my imagination. 'Name your price.'
He considers carefully. '50 bucks mean a lot to me.'
'150.'
'You're bad.'
I smile politely. 'That's my job.'

He watches me. His eyes are highly intelligent. I spend efforts on this kid because of his charisma, leadership and charm. Or in one word: potential.
I sense he has something else to impart, so I beckon him. 'You see,' he starts. 'I feel like a loser this whole time we're smoking, and then I feel better when I tell you.'
'I am not your biatch priest,' I remind him wearily.
'I know, but it's one of the stages of Teshuvah according to the Ramba"m, ok? It's Vidui Peh, which equals you, regret, amending the Maaseh and withstanding Nisayon.'
I stare, overwhelmed by – well, mainly by the prattling of rabbinical terms – then nod towards the door. '1000 bucks, Schneider, and an essay.'

Leaning on the doorknob, he announces: 'One day I'll come clean. I'll study well and respect myself. I'll make best use of my talents and be normal. I'll be more normal than normal: I'll be the best guy in the whole Yeshiva. I won't be guilty, and I'll do Yeshiva because I can face myself, not because I wanna be normal or respected. I will have a God, and consideration, and I'll be so fine, baby, that even you'd consider marrying me.'
Giggling, I remind him that all matches are pushed off for the next 3 weeks.

Yeshiva? Where the heck did that come from.
'Set your ambitions high,' someone once told me in a rehab. 'So you'll never be satisfied until you look back and see what a real person you are.'