“No,” he said. “You’re not hearing me. I told you I’m a nice guy. I’m not going to hurt you. But the guy above me? If I tell him this, he’ll send someone to rough you up pretty bad. Why? Because the guy above him might break his nose. Why? Because the guy above him might break his legs. Why? Because the guy above him might put a bullet in his brain. Why? Because the guy at the top might take out his entire family. And all because you want out. So to prevent this very unpleasant and senseless chain of events, it’s in everyone’s best interests for you to have a viable exit strategy.”

“Maybe I’ll just go to the police and tell them you’re supplying drugs to kids.”

He grimaced. “See, you really don’t want to do that because if I get arrested, suddenly the guy all the way at the top knows you exist. Trust me, you don’t want him to know you exist. Whoever he is.”

That shut me up. Suddenly I felt intimidated. I never feel intimidated, but this scrawny, sleazy guy now had me under his thumb.

“So here’s what you’re going to do,” he said, putting his arm over my shoulder like a buddy. “You’re going to continue accepting and paying for my deliveries until you find someone else equally capable, but a little more eager than you to do the job. You teach him all you know about how to do it. Then he steps in, you step out, and voilà. Exit strategy.”

“You want me to turn one of my friends into a drug dealer?”

“Right,” he said. “Simple as that.”

Only it wasn’t simple at all.

After Ralston left, I felt like I was stuck in quicksand. Any move I made would pull me deeper, and the only escape was to climb out over someone else’s back.

As I went into the shop, I started to run through my mind everyone I knew, and who among them might be greedy enough, stupid enough, and naïve enough to take over for me. After all, I had been all three of those things—at least in this reality—surely there had to be other idiots out there. But here’s the thing: like it or not, my conscience came along with me from my non-drug-dealing reality. Now that I knew how screwed up this was, how could I foist that upon someone I knew and liked? I suppose I could have foisted it upon someone I didn’t like, but that was dangerous, because if the feeling was mutual, they might just turn me in.