david king

That's not his real name. Not many people know his real name, for his occupation is not exactly conventional. But he is the subject of my novel, Ice Boat, one of the three that I am working on (all have been WIP for the past 5 years...).

I first met david thru one of my ex's; they were best buddies and always used to hang out together. At the time david used to fix bikes, do odd mechanical work for the foreign community, and do some modelling work - here and there - but I always used to wonder how he managed to have lots of money, and lots of drugs.

Yes, david is a drug dealer.

Must admit, most people like to keep a certain distance from (their?) dealers, but for some reason - one of strange fate, I suppose - I know david quite well. Why?

1) we share the same birthday
2) he told me many stories of his childhood
3) we used to go clubbing together

and...

4) I saved his life

I was a student in London at the time. david decided to visit us after a "business trip" to Amsterdam before he flew back home, and wanted to go clubbing the day he arrived. I had lectures the following day so I said I would give it a miss -- plus I always feel like shit after a hard night out. david wanted to test the quality of his merchandise; that night he went overboard with the pharmaceuticals from the 'Dam, and discovered their efficacy, or more correctly, potency.

I was phasing in and out of my dreamy state around 6:30am, when my bright eyed ex wakes me up sweating and looking disturbed. DWR, you're studying physiology and pharmacology, right? (wot are you on, you junky! that's what I've been majoring for the past 2 years!) It's david. There's something wrong with him...

I got out of bed mumbling something like "Bloody junkies, getting high on a weekday. Wot are they on? I've got classes this morning, bitch, bitch, bitch..."

When I got to the living room I found david twitching on the floor mumbling: I luuuuvve yuuuuuu

SHIT

My equally junked up ex was panicking by now: a mixture of fear, paranoia, and confusion. Ahhhh, wehavetodosomethingabouthim, shit, makehimstandupandwalkaround, shit, makehimwakeup, shit! talktomebuddytalktomebuddystaywithmebuddy, shit! WE HAVE LOADS OF *HIS* DRUGS IN THIS HOUSE!!!

I don't want this anymore...

Stop.

I let david fall to the ground as my ex wondered around the living room, like the lost tribe of israel, chewing on his nails saying: fuck, fuck, FUCK. I knew then that I was the only person there equipped to save this man.

I opened his eye and saw his dialated pupils. They didnt react to any changes in light... shit. I dialled 999, called for an ambulance, and noted all of david's vital signs that I could. I asked my ex what david had taken, how much, and when. (david had taken somewhere between 5 and 8 XTC tablets, 2 or 3 spoonfulls of GHB, poppers, and maybe more...) I laid david in the recovery position and waited for the ambulance.

They came within 10mins of the call. I explained to the paramedics what had happened, how david was twitching when I found him, and that his dialated pupils not reacting. I then turned to my ex and told him to get into the ambulance with me.

Whyyyyyy?

Listen. You just took what he did -- that could be you in a few hours. Just get in!

david was unconsious for nearly 4 hours. I'm sure he had his stomach pumped, but I will never forget the moment the nurse opened the curtain and said that we can go and see him.

WOW, duuuuude. That was the best trip, ever! Where *were* you, man? Why d'you bring me to hospital. I'm getting the fuck out of here, dude!

david discharged himself less than 8 hours after he lost consiousness on my living room floor....

It's funny how we are born on the same date, and yet we are so different. I wear a suit when I see my clients, and he's usually in his boxer shorts when he sees his. He was lunging into the darkness on the brink of death, and I yanked him him back into the light. Our paths once crossed, but now we are on our separate ways. But I know fate had lead me to this man, for he is the subject of my first book: Ice Boat.

I cannot remember when I last spoke to, or saw david, but the cold, northern winds carry his voice to me. I know he is alive and well somewhere.

Somewhere.

(david, if I ever finsh the book, I will send you a signed copy: To Uncle G)