Wreckless

By D.H.. Clark

Wreckless is the conclusion of A Desperate Journey and is an autobiography. It tells about a life involved with dealing drugs and the addiction people have with the use of cocaine. A story of people who go from the top to the bottom, financially, mentally, physically and sometimes ending in their death. Being a dealer you live with the chance of robbery,or going to jail.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.H.. Clark
• Release date: Mar 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9780991853601

D.H.. Clark

I am 76 years young and reside in the Kootenys, B.C.,Canada. Throughout my years I have worked in many different jobs from salesclerk, transit bus driver, taxibusiness, bookkeeping,and also as a waitress. Throughout my life I made many bad choices and decided to write my biography hoping to let people know that sometimes life isn't all it's made out to be. I strongly believe in the paranormal and am very superstious. I did my bio under a pen name of D.H.Clark and my real name is Jacqueline Greeno.

Book preview

Chapter One

Troy and I drove west out of the province, once we crossed the Alberta, British Columbia border we breathed a sigh of relief. We settled back and just drove not having any idea of where we were headed. We finally decided it was time to get off the highway and get some much needed rest. The next morning we continued on our journey and that evening we were in familiar surroundings, Waterville. We had to make some decisions on what to do as we could not return due to the ongoing investigation into Curtis Hodges death. It was obvious that we would be charged with something. They had been trying to nail us for conspiracy to murder and we knew that it's not your innocent until proven guilty, but guilty until you prove your innocence. Having only forty two hundred dollars which was not our money but our dealers, we decided it was not a good idea to return home at this time, so we decided to rent a place in this area.

The next morning we purchased the local newspaper and scoured the ads for house rentals. We saw one ad for a house at a nearby lake that was for rent. If we decided to rent it we could move in immediately. Upon viewing the house we made arrangements to rent it. Since it was early spring the tourists had not started arriving and we managed to rent the house at a reasonable rate of six hundred dollars a month, plus utilities. The back yard was a half acre in size and the owner had a fireplace insert set up in the back yard, which would provide us with many evenings of sitting around a camp fire with a good drink.

We drove back to the nearest town and purchased the necessary articles, some bedding, and groceries. We didn't bother with any furniture, as we planned to try and get our furniture moved out here. The next month was a month of really roughing it, as we slept on the floor and the house was empty of any furniture. After one month I decided to take the Greyhound back and tie up some loose ends. I arrived in town at five in the morning and Phoned Sue as I knew I could stay with her and nobody would know I was in town. I checked on our house and made arrangements to rent it out. I found a young couple that seemed suitable and reliable. I talked to Gary and he decided to make the move with us, as he had a monthly pension which would help us all out. Sue had volunteered to move the furniture out of the house and would eventually deliver it to us. Gary and I left town in Jena's car, which I had previously left hidden at Sue's place.

Gary and I arrived back at the lake and Troy having cabin fever was happy to see us arrive. Sue came out a month later with some of our furniture. That night after unloading the furniture Sue and I returned to Falkirk. I was hoping that I could collect some of the twenty thousand dollars of outstanding drug debts that we had on the street. It was a learning experience, there is no honor with crack heads as they have no conscience and once you move or get busted your fucked. I had managed to collect enough money to pay for the trip home, however while I was there I contacted my old acquaintance the head of the local biker's chapter. We met for coffee at a coffee shop and as we sat in a window booth at the back of the restaurant, I noticed several detectives walking the parking lot. Dennis asked me if I noticed the presence of police cars. He mentioned that probably they were there because of me. At that point he said he needed to go to the drug store for cigarettes and we both walked across the parking lot, I was feeling very nervous as I couldn't imagine what was in store for me. Dennis went into purchase his smokes and as I waited outside, Brent Morton approached me, asking if I knew who I was conversing with. Yes I replied, please take a walk. When Dennis came back he continued with our conversation telling me we were never to return to this city, we were exiled. Don't let us catch you in town again or there will be severe consequences he explained. On my bus ride back to the lake, I realized that the police couldn't have anything on me or they would have arrested me on the spot, it was nothing but scare tactics on their end.

We all settled in at the lake, the job situation was nil and so every day was the same, our money was being drained and I finally made the trip to the nearest town and applied for welfare. They gave me the amount of money that we needed for our monthly rent, and with Gary's pension we were just barely surviving.

The tourists arrived during the summer months and I continually had yard sales, selling anything we no longer needed. The community had a weekly flea market which I rented a table every week and sold baked goods and baby clothes that I knit. We spent our money wisely and every night we sat around our fireplace in the back yard listening to music and having an occasional drink. Tourist season ended and the lake seemed like a ghost town, no more extra money from selling our wares. The weather started to turn cold and we had used up all our fire wood, so in the evening we would go for a walk and scrounge up any fire wood that we stumbled over, sometimes in somebody's bask yard..

Thanksgiving came and we managed to cash in our points at the grocery store and had a turkey dinner, it sure beat the macaroni and cheese that we had been living on. Times were getting desperate and we were starting to panic, we needed a plan to survive and it certainly wasn't at the lake, perhaps it was time to return back to Falkirk. I knew that if I returned and the bikers caught me in town there would be hell to pay, but we had no options left.

November was approaching and so we phoned the second hand store and made arrangement to sell all our furniture, packed our clothes and hit the road one more time. Troy left first in a hurry to get back to civilization and his friends. Gary and I cleaned the house and left later in the afternoon.

Chapter Two

The drive back was uneventful, every one made it safely and we met up in Falkirk. We had enough money to get a motel room that night and we decided that the next day we would handle all our business dealings, such as going to the welfare office and getting settled into a residence. The following morning Gary and I went down to the welfare office, both of us applying separately. I was immediately shot down as I had property in my name, even though the place was rented and the rent just covered the mortgage payment. I would have to give the tenants notice and that still left me on the street. They did make an exception and gave me a card to obtain a prescription for my heart pills which I was supposed to take daily. I gave them the card back and explained to them that if I was living in a dumpster the pills were of no help to me. Gary however hit it lucky and they helped him out with a voucher for his rent at a local hotel that rented rooms monthly. He did tell me that I could stay with him, but I declined saying I could not have a roof over my head and leave my son out on the street, besides I didn't want to stay with Gary.

Troy and I decided we would stay in the motel room for a week and hopefully something affordable would come up for rent the next week. Money was slim and we were just surviving, we needed to take some action and generate some fast cash. I started to contact people that I knew I could trust, hoping that somebody could steer me to someone that I could purchase some drugs from and turn it over fast. Dexter one of Troy's friends had an acquaintance who knew where to obtain some coke. This guy was supposedly a chiropractor that lived on a farm south of the city. He helped us out by getting us a small quantity which we in turn immediately sold. He kept helping us out and I found that I was eventually travelling to Calgary purchasing enough coke from him to get us by, paying for the motel room and the travelling expenses. Troy's friend went down to a finance company and borrowed two thousand dollars for us to get on our feet. We were very grateful for the help and agreed to pay him a high rate of interest for his help.

With the help of the loan, I travelled north once again to meet the good Doctor at his office, which was empty, except for a desk and a couple of phones. I never did know what kind of a scam the doctor was involved in as that was none of my business. Upon arrival at the doctor's office, he made a phone call and then, we both drove to the north side of town me following him in my car. We parked a block away from where he was going to make the buy, me waiting in my car for him. The clock slowly ticked away and after about an hour the doctor returned handing me a bag with a half a dozen crack chips in it. My reaction was not what he expected as I lost my cool and proceeded to tell him I did not deal in crack, powder was the only thing I dealt in and he would just have to refund my money. The relationship ended there and then. Once more desperation set in, now what?

We were now back to square one, I had to look up Jocelyn, knowing she would have an idea of where to obtain some coke. After a phone call to a known drug dealer, an acquaintance of Jocelyn's, we made the drive to Calgary. Arriving in cow town we found we couldn't locate this person as she had met up with some partiers. Out of desperation we started checking out the hotels that were dives, thinking we might possibly find someone that could direct us to a dealer. We found a girl that was certainly on the program and she gladly offered to help us. She smelled like she hadn't had a bath for some time, but we were very tolerant with her. This girl helped us out and we repaid her for her service with two grams of coke. She would have liked to party with us and was questioning as to whether or not Troy had a girl friend. Troy's friends had always told him that he attracted the freaks. We hurriedly left the area and headed for home.

Upon arriving home we sold the cocaine we had purchased and had a little larger bank roll, knowing that we had to be careful and frugal. I knew that now I had to look for another source, one that could provide me with enough coke to move and that would give us a constant supply. After considerable thought I decided to make a trip to the pass and look up some old acquaintances. Mike was somewhat of an old hippy who sold pot, but he also liked to play occasionally with a little coke, mainly for himself. You would see him and he always reminded me of what you saw on the shows describing a pimp, gold chains and rings, the hat that seemed to always be on his head. Mike always had one or two young girls at his house, and he always wondered why he was constantly being robbed. Mike was about the same age as I was maybe a year or two older, but us old farts never liked to discuss our age. Luck was with me and after a drink and conversation I explained my problems to Mike. He made a phone call and a trip to cow town was set up for the next day. We agreed to meet in Calgary the next morning, both of us driving our own vehicles.

Early the next morning I left and made the drive north, arriving at my destination. I waited for Mike to arrive, he was very punctual and together in his car we went to meet his acquaintance. This dealer was originally from Pakistan and was a little surprised when he met me, being as I was an older woman that dealt in the drug industry. We discussed a price and made a transaction. Mike also made a small transaction and I knew that I had just paid for his product, but that was how it worked, nobody introduces you to their source without you paying them for the introduction.

I drove back feeling like at last I had a supplier that I could possibly rely on. Knowing that I needed to check and see just how much buff this guy had added to an ounce. The comeback wasn't bad, however I wasn't happy about the eighteen hundred dollars that he charged for an ounce. The main thing was that this arrangement was better then what I had been paying to all the users that had been setting me up with their dealers.

The daily procedure continued on for a couple of weeks, we gradually built up our bank roll and were now purchasing a couple of ounces at a time. The motel rent was paid in advance, but we were still trying to get enough money together to rent a house. It was a very slow procedure, but I knew in my heart that things would fall into place. Christmas was arriving and we were still living in the motel. Christmas Eve Troy made a trip to Calgary and on his way back he had a flat tire. The weather was minus thirty and the roads had hardly any traffic. However he did manage to get a ride to Fort Benson, where he phoned me. I made the trip to get him and we continued back to the motel. The car was left on the side of the road and unfortunately the R.C.M.P. were the first ones to locate the car. They impounded it and after running the plate number realized that it had a stolen plate on it. Having no insurance and an expired tag on the license plate that an acquaintance had provided me with, I did unfortunately end up with being charged with possession of a stolen plate, receiving a fine of fifteen hundred dollars. The judge was nice and gave me time to pay. The car was seized and all my possessions that were in the trunk were gone. Oh well I felt it could have been much worse.

We were now down to one car, the one that I had taken from Jena, however it was starting to give us problems so I decided to phone Ken and see if possible, he had a vehicle that was a little more reliable. Ken and I met and he checked over the car, he seemed to think it wouldn't take much to fix it and he traded me a truck for the car, straight across no money exchanging hands. The truck ran well and I found we could make trips to cow town with no problems.

Business was going good. I did all my deliveries by going down back alleys and staying off the main streets, knowing that I did not want to be seen by anyone that would tell the bikers we were back in town. Our luck was changing and we found a two bedroom house to rent. It was out in an older subdivision and not on a well travelled street. We scrounged up some used furniture and settled in, trying to be discreet and not let anyone know where we were living. We had learned from our mistakes that people coming to your house at all hours of the day and night only draw attention to you. It doesn't take much for neighbors to figure out that you are not a desirable person to have living in their neighborhood.

Business was increasing and we found that we were getting a lot of our old clientele back. People that I dealt with seemed to respect me as I never threatened them like a lot of dealers do. They didn't have to worry that if I fronted to them, and they couldn't pay me on time no-one would come kicking their doors in and beating them up. We would always come to some sort of an agreement. The person that was supplying me was causing me some headaches as occasionally he would put in some buff or increase the price on me. It depended on whether he was losing on his gambling or if the fees at the golf course were increased. Many times on a nice afternoon I would drive to cow town and wait at the golf course for him to finish his game. Then we would have to drive to his safe house for him to pick up my order.

Every time we would make a trip we'd try to locate Stacy, our old friend and dealer. He was such a super guy and our business had always been beneficial for both of us. Honesty was also very important to us both. It was definitely like looking for a needle in the hay stack and I was beginning to feel that we would never locate him. However with our new dealer we were making progress and keeping our head above water, then one morning the other shoe dropped. I went out to find a note on the windshield of the truck. The note read; Dianne. It would be very wise to get a hold of me right away. I know where you are. Where, you have been. I also know where you are going. I was good to you all the time, so why don't you just work something out with me, then we can remain friends. I can turn this over to someone else who won't care about you, or your daughter (grandson) or son. Or even your friend Sue. THINK ABOUT IT if I don't hear from you this weekend. OH WELL TOO BAD. He left me no choice but to set up a meeting with him.

The next day we met down by the lake and I got into his vehicle and he started to drive. My heart felt like it was going to explode, but I knew I had to stay calm and keep control of my emotions. You can never let anyone know that you are terrified of them. The conversation was all one sided and I was informed that I would pay him one thousand dollars a week to deal in town. Once a week we would meet and I'd better have the cash or there would be some nasty consequences. I knew that I would keep up my end of the bargain come hell or high water. After he'd, laid down the law he drove me back to my truck and I returned home to get my thoughts and courage together. One good thing I wouldn't have to do all my delivering down the back alleys now.

Chapter Three

Things started to look up for us, naturally we were still cautious and you always kept a check in your rear view mirror to see if you were being followed. Then one day out of the blue I had been over to see Steffi and her husband Rodney, who had just gotten out of jail once again. Over a cup of coffee Rodney gave me the name of a Vietnamese guy that had been in jail with him. This particular person was in for dealing cocaine and Rodney thought he might know my old dealer, so he gave me this person's phone number. When I arrived home I told Troy the news, hoping that possible it might lead us to our old friend Troy immediately went out and used a pay phone to