Drudge

By Jake Walker


“Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.” –Arthur Rimbaud


The sky was void and black. Trees flew past us on either side. The headlights hit the empty road ahead of us, bringing into view out of the darkness, lightning fast yellow strips that licked the undercarriage of Ian’s truck. Ian was smoking a cigarette, slouched in the driver’s seat like a white Rastafarian thug. I nudged him for a smoke and he threw me his pack. I lit a cigarette gaily, the smoke seething from my orifices like acrid magic.

“So what are you expecting out of tonight?” I asked, looking for conversation. It was too quiet for too long.

“Oh, I dunno,” he began with a shrug, “I guess some hash, couple of lines, a beer or two…” He trailed off. Normal guy dialogue.
“Cool. Hey, do you mind slowing down?” Ian purposefully sacked my request.
We sped our way out of the wood into a clearing, I holding onto the door for dear life. Each subtle twitch of the wheel and every slight dip left or right sent my stomach lurching, the queasiness palpable. We were approaching our destination. To our left, before the quiet road curved away into another patch of forest, we saw a house, the square lights that were windows seemed to beckon us forth. The house was two stories, and was quite unlike the carbon copy homes of modern Suburbia. It was a very stoic brick abode, with two small wings jutting out from both sides. One very obviously was the garage, the other I could only guess was a dining room or a kitchen or some other contemporary home mainstay.
Pulling up to the house, Ian threw the lever into park. I was thrown forward by the sudden stop. Ready to find escape from the deathcage that was Ian’s truck, I made to open the door, but he stopped me. “Before we go in,” he began, jabbing his cigarette in my general direction, “several things: first, be cool. I don’t think you’ve met most of these people so just remember shallow waters until you get acquainted.”
“Shallow waters?” I interjected.

“Yeah, shallow waters.” He took a drag, “Just tread water softly until everyone gets comfortable, you dig?” I nodded. He looked like a madman through the smokescreen that escaped his mouth. “Second,” he continued, “Nathan and Marcus are doing us a favor. Although we’ll probably have to provide on a later date, for the time being, we’re getting the hook up, so don’t be too grabby. And finally…hey.”
I looked square at him, “What, dude?”
“Take this.” he had in his palm some eye drops ready for the hand off. I took it and jammed it in my pocket. “I tend to lose things.”
“I know.”
We made our way out the truck and up the driveway, flicking our butts in the lawn. Ian tossed me his keys. He was awfully forgetful. Even when sober. It was agreed earlier in the evening that I would be the pack mule, so to speak. The front door was dimly lit by quite the quaint little porch light. It was a warm inviting blue with a gold trim. Near the top, there were three vertically placed rectangular windows, giving us a view of only darkness.
Ian rung the bell, and in a matter of seconds, a light came on. Eyes seemed to bore into our soul as a forehead hit the window panes. The door opened, and therein came into view one of our accomplices for tonight’s criminal ventures, Ian’s good friend Nathan.
“Hey, whassap?” Nathan greeted as he invited us in. He had on torn blue jeans and a white tee, typical apparel for these types, from my observation. His eyes already seemed darker than normal, and he wore a long, messy bowl cut—dirty blonde locks placed hither and yon. I’ve only met him several times before, but he seemed friendly enough. Amicable, but didn’t really care what you thought of him. Honestly, that was quite the attractive quality. He and Ian slapped hands and shook. I gestured a nice, neat, quiet hello.
He led us out of the foyer and into the living room. To our mutual surprise, Nathan’s ma was standing in our midst, near the table. “Oh, hi!” She exclaimed, way too ecstatic from the onset. We weren’t even expecting a run in with parents this evening, so we didn’t know how to go about this encounter. “Ian! How have you been? Looking forward to Monday’s game?” Ian nodded. He had exposure to Nathan’s ma seeing as to how they were both on the same lacrosse team. “And who is this handsome young man?” Nathan’s ma approached me oh so motherly, as mothers are apt to do. She placed her hands on my cheeks and gave me a loving look, as if I were her own. I could feel the wrinkles and lines that intersected on her palms, and it felt really cold. I shot my eyes towards Ian—eyes that said help me. He grinned, showing his chipmunk teeth, his hair partly hiding the laughter in his eyes.
“I’m—I’m Vance,” I muttered, making what resembled a kissy face with hands of a matriarch squeezing my head.
“Oh, I love that name!” Like I said, way too ecstatic. “I’m Mary. It’s wonderful to meet you!” She removed her hands thank God, and then reached out to shake. I took her hand as gingerly and gentlemanly as I could.
“It’s nice to meet you, too.”
Mary began talking to me about the unseen intricacies and meandering ins and outs and stresses that defined a lifetime of being a fulltime housewife. She spoke in haste, as if she was hardly ever given the opportunity to connect with the outside world. I could tell that Ian and Nathan were growing impatient and wanted to get things underway. I felt the same, but it was out of the question that I would dismiss her and take my absence; not when she seemed to enjoy my presence so. She went on. Her stories led to tangents which led to other tangents which led to still more. Lacrosse practices, dishes, laundry, her appointment with the optometrist. I nodded, cordially, at all the right times, I mm-hmm’ed at all the right times, and I even said a “right” every now and again. Nathan finally interjected.
“Ma.” She kept going. “Ma.” She didn’t even hear him. “Ma!” He got between the two of us and put his arm around my shoulders, directing my movement. They locked eyes, mother and son, and he smiled. She smiled as well, but like a child, as if she were the lesser of the two. He looked at me, “Shall we?”
He led me to a door and Ian followed. The door led to the basement and from the top of the stairs, I could already see hints of smoke rising from where they veered around the corner. We made our way down now, rounding the turn into a very dusty lower level. Whereas the house upstairs was neatly polished, with shiny oak and tile and floral wallpaper, the basement had a concrete floor and thin wooden panels for walls. There was a rug in the main room, tattered, discolored and stained so much that you couldn’t tell its original design and pattern. On top of it sat a glass table, scratched and fogged from years of careless use and gradual wear and tear. Curving around the table was a faded, dusky couch. I had mere seconds to take all this in, of course, for as soon as we made our entrance, the three of us, we were subject to a chorus of screams and shouts.
“Ohmigosh! You guys finally made it!”
“Where were you!?”
“What took you so long!?”
There were three girls positioned around a smoking plastic bottle, standing and excited to do the whole greeting bit. They made squeals and scrunched smiley faces while everybody hugged everybody else. One hugged Ian considerably longer than the others. Her name was Lauren. I met her before. Apparently, she and Ian were ‘talking.’ Ian introduced me to the other two and I found out their names were Ashley, and Katie. I waved and gave a nervous little twitch of a half smile.
“Nathan told us that Ian was bringing a friend. Guess you’re it, huh?” Katie assessed me with her eyes, as if approvingly.
“Sure enough,” I acknowledged. I offered my hand thinking it was part of the routine. She ignored it and hugged me. Katie was wearing skin tight, hip hugger jeans, and a grey shirt that was covered by a black hoodie that came down to her naval. It had pink, cursive writing on it. ‘Roxy’ it said. Her skin almost glowed it was so pale, and no doubt her complexion was exacerbated by her oil black hair that came down flat on all sides.
Ashley, who had already seated herself, asked Ian, “So how come we never met him before?”
Ian shrugged finding a spot on the couch, “I dunno. He goes to a different school,” dust billowed up in swirls when he threw himself down on the cushion.
“Oh,” Ashley gave a look of interest as she turned her attention to me, “What school?”
“Bob Jones,” I said, still standing.
“Aaahhh,” the gang sneered and faked a contemptuous glare. Bob Jones and Sparkman, their school, were rivals, but I already knew before hand that Ian’s posse didn’t play such shallow games. Nor did I.
“Take a seat, Vance. Get comfortable,” Nathan insisted. He had the bottle now in his lap, no longer smoking but inside it was milky white, and was taking some green stuff from a little Ziploc bag and breaking it up. I did as he said, sitting down next to Katie. Nathan asked, “You ever do this before?” pointing to the green pile on the table, quickly gaining mass.
“Can’t say that I have.”
“What!?” It was Ashley, “That is so exciting! I love introducing new people to pot!” She laughed, clasping her hands together excitedly, “Eeeeee! Yay pot!” Aside from Ian, who knew, everyone else’s reactions were similar. Nathan kept picking apart the green granules but gave an expression of disbelief, mouth agape, eyes wide. Katie and Lauren beamed. Excitement filled the air. I looked at Ian with an eyebrow raised. Did my simple confession really elicit such a response?
“You’re in for a treat. You’re in for a treat,” Nathan assured, “Especially when Marcus gets here. He’s got stuff that’ll really open your eyes.”
“Oh, he’s done that before,” Ian said.
“What!? You’ve ridden the white pony but you’ve never done the herb?” Nathan was shocked.
I was about to explain, but Lauren broke in, “Whatever. Hey! Are we ready yet?” Her impatience was hung on every word. Nathan didn’t respond right away but quickly packed the plant into some tin foil that sat atop the bottle, jamming down with his thumb to make it tight and dense.
He seemed to admire his craftsmanship for a second, looked up, said, “Yes. Yes, we are.”
We all sort of scooted in around the bottle as if it were some ancient artifact. We were all on the couch, leaning forward towards the table, Nathan, Ashley, Lauren, Ian, Katie and me. Nathan was first up to bat since he packed it (I would later find out that this was custom amongst those of the pot smoking elite). He pursed his lips next to a hole that was on the bottle, put a lighter to the top and drew in. Heavily. The plastic gave diminutive crackles as his grip tightened briefly; it filled with smoke and licks of it gave rise in the air. He held a heavy lungful, and then blew out. It looked like white exhaust. The mist billowed around us—a mystical cloud.
“We should’ve gone first,” Ian began, referring to himself and me, “You all had already started without us.” Nathan, handing off to Ashley, just smiled and shrugged. The girls laughed. They were giddy.
Everyone took their turn. I observed like a scientist as each person seemed to cherish the sacred bottle in their hands. I noted how cautiously and carefully they placed it to their lips. I analyzed how each held their breath upon inhale. I studied how the smoke would evacuate the mouth, and especially the nostrils. Like a bull.
It was my go. I was a little antsy. I rubbed my palms together anxiously, as if I were about to partake of a savory dish. I took it in my hands like a baby, admiring the light that bounced off its transparent surface. The bowl was still going I saw; the herb glowed furiously red. I took it to my lips and—
“Hey! What’s going on?” Marcus burst through the door. “The hell? You all started without me!”
“Hey, dude,” Ian greeted, ”Nathan and the girls started without us; we’re just trying to catch up.”
Marcus was carrying a twelve pack under his arm. He casually tossed us each a beer, sat down, said, “Alright, it’s my turn.” He took the sacred relic out of my hands before I could get a turn, leaving me to only look down at my now empty palm and grieve over the innocence that’s been betrayed. I’ve never met him before but he seemed more antagonistic than the others, as if it were his life’s mission to let everyone know that he was a force to be reckoned with. Maybe he was, but Ian comes on strong, too. I was sure we’d warm up to each other eventually. Young, impressionable and naïve minds always have the annoying tendency to cling to notions of peace.
Ian, who I noticed was starting to sort of reel from the hit he took, called to Marcus, “Hey asshole, this is Vance.”

I tipped a friendly nod, and did nothing else. Marcus stared at me longer than what was appropriate, pointed towards the unopened beer in my hands, said, “You’re welcome.”
“He seems nice,” I whispered to Ian. He chortled. Katie, who overheard, did as well. Marcus was too involved with having his mouth locked around the bottle to even notice the laughs.
Finally was I given the bottle. It was warm, and the smoke dense. I set aflame the pot up top and leaned in to kiss the hole. The smell. Ah, the smell. The air was thick with it already, but never was it as pungent as it was now. The whiffs of aroma I got from the teasing, romantic ringlets of fume led me to recall in my mind something akin to cinnamon, or perhaps cumin. Turmeric? Actually, I must confess now that it is a smell unlike any other. A satisfying stench, though it forces its way in. Your olfactory senses don’t stand a chance, and they are left to suffocate in the hazy calm and peace.
Smell aside, I gulped in a choking hit that immediately burned the uvula, and felt like a brick as it banged and bashed its way into my lungs. I couldn’t contain it. I coughed. I heaved. I threw myself into convulsions, seeking relief from the weighty take. Were I not so preoccupied by my coughing fit, I might have found a more strategic place to aim my hacks, but lost in the burn as I was, I coughed directly at the bowl, sending the pot airborne to become cinders floating downwards.
“What the hell, man? Damn!” Marcus was pissed.
I barely managed to sputter, “I’m (hack) I’m (cough) I’m sorry.”
“The hell you are, dumbass!” Marcus snatched the bottle and threw it to Nathan, “Pack another and see to it this dude knows what he’s doing next time!” The others were holding their sides from uncontrollable fits of laughter. Katie opened my beer for me, telling me it would help. I sipped the beer idly (my second drink ever), alleviating my throat, taken immense pleasure from the feeling that began to envelop me.
Whilst everyone else fell into their respective conversations on life and other obscure topics, as potheads are wont to do, I sat back, analyzing with scientific scrutiny the effects of this drug on thought, feeling and perception. What I first observed was how seamlessly it took hold of me. There is no definite point where you know you’re high. It’s subtle—gradual—and before you know it, time is slowed and what were once forgettable details take on a whole new significance. It was a great sensation. It opened your eyes. Thoughts were clear, spirited, and seemed to amass the whole brain, where sober thoughts were just singular, and failing that, ill-defined and obscure.
The night went on, everyone still hitting the peace bottle. I became entirely spirit. I felt my body had completely melted into the couch, and that I had taken on the form of an apparition. During my expedition into the spiritual realm, I still vaguely perceived snippets of dialogue and scenes of the physical reality that surrounded me. It was very murky, as if I heard and saw everything through standing water. Some of my fellow countrymen and women had gotten up, mingling amongst themselves, walking around, drinking more beer, and talking on topics innumerable.
“What’s up with your bro, Ian?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s so quiet. He’s just sitting there, smiling at us.”
“Yeah, well, I suppose he’s adjusting.”
“He hasn’t even really tried talking to anybody. Is he always like this?”
A laugh. “Shallow waters.”
“Shallow waters?”
“Yeah, shallow waters.”
The voices became a swirl of echoes.
Some time had passed, but I couldn’t say how much. Ian had tapped me back into a fully aware state of consciousness. “Vance!” He yelled. One more tap on the head for me to be responsive, “Vance!”
“Wha-what?” I noticed that Ian had placed a cigarette on my lips and had lit it. I was thankful for that. I had also caught quick sight of quite the spectacle taking place on the table. Everybody had broke out the coke that Marcus apparently had, and were taking turns with the lines, passing off a cut plastic straw to do the deed. “What’s going on? What time is it?”
“Nothing. Hey, listen. I didn’t know if you wanted to take part in this or not, but my dealer called telling me about a smorgasbord downtown. You in?” Lauren was clinging awkwardly close to Ian, kissing and nibbling his ear and neck. The scene was distracting. It was hard to pay attention.
“Soo…what’s going on downtown?”
He gave a look tinged slightly with impatience. He turned to Lauren and pushed her away. She immediately came back (What was up with her? I thought. She hadn’t said a word all night, only hung at Ian’s arm like a doting subject), “Dude, while you were staring at the wall laughing, I got a call from my dealer downtown. They’re all having a free for all down there for some reason. He asked us if we would like to partake. I said I’d think about it. What do you say?” He made sure to say each word slower than normal, enunciating everything exactly.
It was at around this point that I realized that I couldn’t properly make decisions. I tried to weigh pros and cons, and see the ups and downs of all possible choices, but they all just blended into indiscernible thoughts of colors, and church steeples, and what time it was, and whether or not I wanted to do homework. I couldn’t make heads or tails of the information that was being listed in my mind. “Uh-huh,” I nodded like an idiot.
Katie came by, next to Ian, wiping some white powder from the tip of her nose, “You’re back!” She reached out to embrace me, and I returned it as best as I could. She was so bubbly I didn’t know quite how to accept her advance. “I missed you. Hey, c’mere, I wanna show you something.” She took me by the hand, and I shrugged at Ian. He squinted his eyes and smiled. I barely knew this chick. What was she doing?
Although I originally had the mind to think that this woman was going to take me to some back room or something, she only led me around the far side of the table, where I could see that she had already prepared a line for each of us. We sat down on the floor like Indians, Katie was beaming, holding a straw out to me.
“You said you did this before?” She asked.
“Y-yeah,” I said hesitantly. I was still coming to terms with the newfound practice.
“When?”
“Well, once with Ian before one of his lacrosse games, and again with Ian before a job interview.”
“Ooh, you rebel!” she said, growling like a vixen, “here, take it.”
I took the straw. It was a sturdy pink plastic. I was hesitant but Katie gestured for me to go ahead. I bent forward, sticking the utensil in my nostril. Placing the far end at the top of the line of coke, I made a quick motion down its length, inhaling deeply and audibly. Almost immediately, I felt euphoria. A tube was inserted into my head that blew cool, breezy air through every vein, every artery, every capillary of my body. I felt it all over. My heart and my brain felt superhuman. There was a rumble and a hum as if something had been turned on. I was a factory and I was running efficiently, seamlessly, perfectly. A hidden energy in me had been awakened, and I felt ready to take on the world.
“Ok! My turn!” Katie squealed. I sniffed and snorted to start the drip and handed her the straw. She repeated the ritual, collapsing back in a calm elation against my shoulder. “This shit is great,” she sighed. Coming from her, curse words seemed no less ladylike than if she spoke like a Victorian queen.
Suddenly, Ian was behind me, grabbing my shoulder, “Dude, since you’re so attached to Katie’s nipple, ima go ahead and bounce. Marcus and Lauren are coming with. Kapeesh?”
“Wait, guy, you can’t just up and go without me!” I protested.
“Then come on!”
Katie broke in, wrapping her arms around me, “It’s ok. You can stay here with me, and we’ll just catch up with them later.” I looked at her and then looked at Ian. We shared a shrug. That was our unspoken agreement, to us, just as binding as a legal contract. With that, he gestured with his hand that I fork something over. I looked at him quizzically.
“The keys and the eye drops!” He demanded.
“Oh, my bad. I forgot all about ‘em,” I fished them out of my pocket and threw them his way.
“And I thought I was absentminded.”
I snorted a laugh, “me too.”
With Ian, Lauren, and Marcus gone, Nathan and Ashley came around to join myself and Katie. I didn’t really know where they had been, but their disheveled appearance gave a clue. We all split a joint.
Nathan seemed jovial and lax, “So Vance, tell me ‘boutchurself.”
“What do you wanna hear?”
“Everything,” Katie said.
“Yeah, what’s up with you?” Ashley added.
“What do you mean what’s up with me?”
“Like why you’re so quiet and what do you do and whatnot,” Nathan urged, smiling.
“Well, I guess I’m pretty quiet by nature, but Ian advised me to keep it on the low this evening.”
“Yeah, Ian told me ‘bout that. Shallow waters, he said. Don’t sweat him bro, he’s a bitch.” A shared laugh.
“A bitch?”
“Nah, I’m just funning, but you haven’t really answered our questions yet. Go on.”
“Well, I’ve always kinda been straight edge until I turned eighteen, and then I decided to have some fun, so I called Ian who I knew was into this kinda stuff just to see what he could get me into.”
“So you’re using him,” Ashley stated.
I didn’t really know what to say to that, “No. Not really. I—“
Katie interrupted, “You don’t need to respond to that Vance, Ashley’s being mean. What were you saying before?”
“Umm…well, I just wanted to experiment. Ian was the man to go to. But it’s not like I didn’t hang out with him before. I’ve known him since I was eight. I’ve even turned down his peer pressure in the past.”
“What made you change your mind? It couldn’t’ve been just cause you turned eighteen.”
At that, I thought back to her. It hadn’t even been a full two weeks since we were last together. But that was all gone now. Nathan was right, it wasn’t just cause I turned eighteen, but I couldn’t make myself out to be more vulnerable than I already appeared. “I really just wanted a change,” I said, which was true enough.
“Haha! Well, messing around with Ian you’ll definitely get it!” Ashley laughed.
Nathan asked, “Hey, where’d Ian go anyway? Where’s Marcus and Lauren? They’ve been out awhile, haven’t they?”
“ Yeah, man, he and Marcus booked it to go see his dealer. Apparently their having some sort of gala downtown or in the hood or something.”
“Shoot, man! Why didn’t you say something?” Ian exclaimed, “Y’all, let’s go!”
His demand seemed quite definite, but I was hesitant. Katie was too. I could see. I had a pretty good idea what she wanted, she was laying it on thick, and although it wasn’t ever my style before, I was looking forward to finding out for certain.
“C’mon,” Nathan chided, standing, “let’s go, let’s go.”
Katie sort of clicked her teeth, “Alright.” She got up and I followed. We all started cleaning up the paraphernalia that was spread out everywhere. Like a crime scene, we had to remove all the damning evidence.
“Nathan,” I had a question, “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, yeah. Whassap?” He was putting what little was left of the green into a tiny baggy.
“How is your ma cool with all this?”
He rolled his head back, “Ooohh, you know how it goes,” after a pause, he kept going, “Well, I guess you don’t. My ma really isn’t cool with it. She was really mad when she first found out I did this, but after awhile, because I refused to stop, it was sort of a “don’t ask don’t tell” policy. Kinda like an “out of sight, out of mind” thang. Ya dig? So now she just lives in denial I guess. She doesn’t even bring it up, like it never happened.”
I nodded. That poor woman. My ma was similar, but just about different things, like my past romances. Mothers are like that all across the board it seems. They can’t accept the fact that their baby is beginning to lose his or her innocence, so they live almost as hermits, cloistering themselves in false perceptions of their kids. Surely, not my child… is an oft recited mantra of these poor matriarchs, afraid of the pleasures and debaucheries that abound in the world to pervert the younger generations, and perhaps even more afraid of the younger generation’s willingness to indulge. I dunno, perhaps I’m looking at it entirely wrong.
We cleaned up as best we could, and were on our way out. Katie was hugging my arm, “You have a curfew?” She asked.
“No. I’m spending the night with Ian, wherever he is.”
She laughed. Man, it was a beautiful sound, “We’ll see if we can find him.”

We did. Right in the living room. He, Lauren and Marcus hadn’t even left, but instead were sitting on the couch, napkins tucked into their collars, with plates of food in front of them. Nathan’s ma, Mary, held them off at the door with repeated refusals to let them leave before they ate. Wheel of Fortune was playing on the television, and as Nathan, Ashley, Katie and I looked on at our fellow comrades, knife and fork in hand, with the constant clickety-clack of the wheel and the shouting of letters as the only sound, we erupted with laughter. They sat there derisively, picking at their food in quiet indignation.
“I have your plates ready!” It was Mary, behind us. We turned. She was beaming, apron on and everything. The picturesque image of patient and loving child rearing.
Nathan objected, “Nah, that’s ok ma. We gotta g—“
“Nonsense!” she practically scolded, shoving a plate into his sternum. He took it solemnly and sat down next to Marcus, shaking his head to himself.
Ashley, Katie and I lined up to receive our meals too. It looked like there was no way out of it, so we might as well eat our fill. It was a very well prepared meal. The porkchops were steamy and looked heavily seasoned. The mashed potatoes looked creamy and piping hot. The rolls were perfectly browned and heavily buttered. I started to think that maybe I really was hungry after all.
We found places to sit in the living room and watched Wheel of Fortune. The food was divine. I began to chuckle, it was so good. Each forkful was better than the last. The food danced moist and tender in my mouth. Unknown particulars in the differing flavors were more evident to me now. I could differentiate each individual spice, everything that was used in the marinade, and I realized the magnitude in quality found in a home cooked meal, prepared with great care. I couldn’t believe how spectacular it felt to eat it. It was the best thing I ever tasted.
Ian hushed my giggles, “Sshh, dude. Keep it on the DL.” I could barely get my sorry out through my mouthful of food. I never really understood why gluttony was such a temptation for some until now. No doubt, if food always tasted this good, I would be an obese, artery-clogged couch potato.
With the meal done, we thought we were in the clear. Unfortunately, the sweet Mrs. Mary had other ideas. That’s right, it was picture time. Nathan and Marcus tried to protest as best they could. “No, ma, please. Stop,” Nathan had his hands up, fingers interlocked, as if he were begging. Mary paid her son no mind, grabbing her camera from a desktop where it was charging. She turned to me and invited me over.
“Vance, I would love for you to wear the Santa hat. The season is fast approaching and you seem to be the one with the most holiday spirit.”

I turned to the others, raising an eyebrow in the question, is this woman serious? They were all hiding their smiles. “Ok,” I said, timidly. Call me a people pleaser, I guess. I donned the hat, and we all gathered together.

Mary was overjoyed, “Aah, I just love capturing these moments—friends, family, the excitement of youth. You’re all just so beautiful and handsome. Don’t be shy, c’mon now. Smiles. I wanna see smiles.”
I did my trademark unsure-of-his-self half smirk. Right before the camera flash, Katie enveloped me in her arms. The flash bulb blinded us all, and the moment was forever captured on film.
“Can we go now?” Said Nathan in a whiney pitch—that pitch that best evokes the clichéd teenage angst. Mary gave her blessings and we were out the door.
Ian, Lauren, Katie and I took Ian’s truck. Lauren took shotgun, so I sat in the back with Katie, which I didn’t mind. Nathan, Ashley and Marcus were to follow in Nathan’s SUV. Immediately, Ian’s aggressive driving kicked in full gear. I was thrown back by how quick he took off. My knuckles whitened as I held the door handle, expecting the worst, but once we hit the clear, open road, the speed was actually invigorating. The freedom. There was a freedom in flying down an empty road in the woods, the windows open, the wind blasting through. It was cool and it was dark and the neon blue lights from the dash gave everything a surreal bent in appearance. I felt subterranean. I felt like we four all shared a secret that no one else in the world knew but the other three that were following us. I felt elite and rare. I turned to look at Nathan and Ashley in the SUV, but all I saw was blinding head beams. I turned away with my eyes squinting and looked out the side window. The gust from the truck picked up the browned leaves and foliage that lay strewn on the side of the road. In the south here, winter is never winter, just a prolonged fall. Upon closer inspection of the leaves that followed us, I saw that they were growing tiny arms and legs and were actually chasing us.
Little leaves were running after me. Man, I was reeling.
“Whoa,” I croaked, leaning back to watch the ceiling of the cab spin. Katie reached out to me, her hands cold, but still very much welcome, “You ok?”
“Yeah,” I looked her in the eyes, which even in this darkened cab were sparkling. I smiled and she returned it, and cheesy as it sounds, we shared a moment, “Yeah,” I said once more.
“Yeah,” she echoed, laying her head on my shoulder.
Melodious cooing sound was coming from the speakers. You can’t call it music for it is something better. It’s just pure, artistically pleasing sound. There really is no word suited to describe it, just beautiful sound. I had to know, “Ian?!” He couldn’t hear me. The joyous blast from the speakers coupled with the blast from the open windows proved to be too loud.
“Hey!! Ian!!”
He turned his head, again reminding me of a white Rastafarian thug, “Whassap?”
“Who’s playing?”
“Who’s what?”
“What music is playing?”
“Oh! It’s Incubus!”
And that was how I fell in love with Incubus.
Our destination was on the outskirts of downtown off of Galaxy Boulevard. I remember thinking how appropriate that was since at the time, I really was flying through the galaxy. We were in the projects. Government housing for poverty stricken and low income families. The ghetto, for short.
All the houses shared walls. They were little brick shambles shoddily built but sturdy, almost industrial in appearance. They were connected in long links between the two major roads of Galaxy and Bougainville. They didn’t really have yards per se, but in the middle of the complex there was blacktop with two goals on either end. A basketball court of sorts. And even in the middle of the night, hooligans across the neighborhood were engaged in a game of hoops.
We found parking and followed Ian to the address of his dealer. Even across the way we could see which one it was, for rap was blaring from the direction we were headed, and we saw lights on with the door open, complete with a whole slew of different persons coming in and out, yelling and laughing and vomiting and fighting. All of whom seemed to be of questionable character. Our kind of peoples I suppose.
We made our way in where the music was almost deafening. Katie and I knew not a soul. Marcus, Ashley, and Nathan were fairly acquainted with some it seemed, for they fit in well enough. But Ian, we could tell, was on his home turf, his territory, for without delay he started talking with a group of the thugs, pretty much ignoring us.
Katie and I were left to kinda just wander around. She linked her arm with mine, and I bet she felt the same as me: out of place, and quite honestly, uncomfortable.
“What are we doing here?” She shouted to me over the music.
I yelled back, “Not too sure!”
We found open spaces on the couch and took them, sitting next to strangers. Some were snorting from the coffee table. Some were laying back just bobbing their heads to the music. Some were smoking. Some were talking. All seemed to eye us with suspicion.
“Hey, white boy!” shouted one to my right, awakening me from my observations. I turned my head to see who had called me out, drinking in his appearance. It was a big, charcoal black man in a black wifebeater. He wore a black trucker hat, tilted to the side, and black jeans, which were so low I could also see that he was wearing black Joe Boxers. He was rolling a blunt. He must have seen that I was a pinch unnerved, for he offered his fist. I pounded it and he introduced himself. “I’m Jay.”
“I’m Vance. This here is Katie.” Katie waved.
“Alright,” he smiled. It seemed rather genuine. “Whatchu two doing uptown?”
“Uh,” I began, “You might know him actually, we’re here with Ian.” I looked around to try and point him out but couldn’t find him through the mass of bodies. It didn’t seem to matter.
“Oh snap! Ian! That’s my dawg! He my boy!” Jay gave an enthusiastic howl. I couldn’t help but smile, “Don’t get too much in the thick with Big Ian, cuh, he’ll fuck you up and leave you by the wayside!”
I looked at him, puzzled, “What?”
“Nah, I’m jus playin,” admitted Jay, “Ya’ll wanna hit this?” He asked, referring to the blunt he was licking and kissing with his thick, Nubian lips. I looked at Katie, who, after a heartbeat or two, nodded.
“Su-sure,” I said.
We were lost in the mire once more, Katie and I, once the hitting was underway. Jay seemed to be a proficient conversationalist and he was very entertaining, but it was all we could do to keep up with him.

“Ya’ll got jobs?”
“I do,” Katie said, “I work at Bath and Body in the mall.”
“Alright, alright,” Jay nodded, “How ‘bout you White Devil?”
“Well, I just began a temp job at Gamestop.”
“Is that right?” he said it as if it weren’t really a question, but I acknowledged it as such anyway.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“You a gamer?” he had the blunt and he was taking quick, repeated hits as if it were a wine tasting.
“No, not really. I just need the dough, ya know?”
“I feel that, nucca. I feel that.” He handed the spliff to Katie, and looked up in thought, “Ya know, I can get you working for me if you feel it, man,” his smile became mischievous and there was a glint in his eye. That was a dead giveaway, but I took the bait just to see what he would say.
“Oh, you know,” he initiated his proposal as if it was nothing special, “just knocking on some doors, making connections. You feel me? A real legitimate business network.”
“Legitimate?” Katie echoed.
“Sure,” Jay crooned as if it was Katie’s idea.
She shook her head at me and I nodded in agreement. To Jay, I said, “Sorry. I’m not too sure I’m cut out for that kinda work.”
“Shucks,” he shrugged, “I didn’t figger anyways. It takes the cream of the crop. A real man’s man.”
I didn’t respond, just digested his words. He took the silence as an invitation to continue, “It is hard work, I’ll give you that. But that’s us, man. That’s our role. We’re all drudges man.”
“Drudges?” Katie again echoed, she was gaining interest.
“Hells yeah. The underbelly of society that’s gotta do the nasty work. Somebody’s gotta do it. We do our jobs, and in so doing, we provide jobs. We fuel the police. We give them pigs reasons to harass people. We keep social workers employed. We got the workers down at the free clinic a steady paycheck. Like I said, it’s dirty work. We’re on the fringe of society. We’re outlaws. But again like I said, somebody’s gotta do it. We protect the status quo with our criminalistic activity.”
Katie and I made eye contact, silently relenting that the man had a point. That was a messed up way of looking at it but it had its logic.
I asked, “Why do you choose that role?”
You could tell he thought about it. “I dunno, man,” he said, shaking his head, “It doesn’t really make sense, but it’s sort of a pride issue. Like, can I survive the game? Ya know? You just wonder, ‘can I survive the game…” he trailed off.
“You seem to be doing pretty good,” Katie joked.
“That I am! That I am!” He exclaimed, “Hell, I’m just speaking out my ass anyways. Ha!” He got up gesturing for us to follow, “Ya’ll wanna get some more wit me?” he asked pointing at the blunt that was now down to almost nothing. We followed.
He led us into the kitchen, which was just as crowded as the living room. Ian jumped out at us with a forty duct-taped to each hand, “Aaahhh!” He was giddy and boisterous and loud.
“What you got there?” Katie inquired, finger pointing at his hands. He laughed, throwing his head back, sloshing the foamy beer with his wild gesticulations.
“They taped them on my hands, man!” Another fit of laughter. He was drunk out of his mind, “they won’t take them off until they’re finished!” Again, a laugh—a cackle really—untamed and hysterical.
We saw that Jay had made his way to the kitchen counter where we guessed his friends were. He was talking to a man of much lighter skin than his, with a white tee, and dreads that reached to the small of his back. They were laughing and joking and mingling like bros, so we figured they were close. We were about to join him there near the kitchen sink, when Ian grabbed my shoulder.
“Where y’all going, man?”
“Oh, well, you know Jay, right?”
“Jay? Aw shit! Don’t get too much in the thick with Big Jay, cuh, he’ll fuck you up and leave you by the wayside!”
Katie leaned in close, “Isn’t that what Jay said about—?”
“Uh-huh,” I nodded, “must be an inside joke or something.”
Ian was talking to two others behind him, looking like he had a really interesting story to tell. We just left him.
On our way to the counter we passed a small clearing. A place open to traffic no doubt. On our right we saw Nathan and Marcus engaged in a card game at the kitchen table. Marcus had his cap on backwards and down low to his brow, looking at his hand in deep concentration. Nathan saw us and tilted his head back, a greeting from across the room. I gave him the deuces and Katie waved. Ashley, standing behind Nathan’s chair, apparently giving him advice, called out to Katie, “Hey ho!” Katie’s smile widened.
We made our way to Jay and tapped him on his shoulder. He turned, “There y’all are, man. Damn. Take forever.”
“Sorry man, we got held up for a sec. Does your offer for more still stand?”
He held up a freshly rolled blunt, “Sure do.” He lit it and took a couple of quick puffs to get it going. We noticed that no one else at the counter was smoking but instead, were snorting off the marble countertop. That’s cool. That just means more for us. I was standing there in quiet anxiety, wishing there was a chair I could sit in. I was about to ask Jay if we could go back to the living room. Then hell broke loose.
Jay’s bro was snorting, and two girls were holding his dreads back for him so that they wouldn’t interfere with his goings-on. He made his way with the straw down half of the line, smooth and without effort, when he made a sudden and abrupt stop. It grabbed our attention because the aggressive sniffing sound halted. Jay looked down and assessed the situation, “You alright, man?”
No response. The man just stood there, hunched over, straw and hand still in place. The two women still holding the man’s dreads looked at each other, confused.
“You alright, man?!” Jay asked again with more urgency.
The guy lifted his head back and began making small choking, guttural noises in his throat. His pupils had rolled back into his head so we can only see the whites of his eyes. He threw up. Everywhere. It was a green, foamy fluid that splashed against the countertops, ruining the lines that had been set out, setting the razors slightly adrift. “In the sink! In the sink!” People were shouting. The whole kitchen froze and everybody’s eyes were on the man with the dreads.
Just as we suspected that his retching had ended, he made another convulsion. He spewed more vomit. Foam much thicker than before seemed to curdle down his chin and down his neck. He stood back, made a step to balance himself, but he was convulsing wildly. Too wildly. His female friends behind him backed away to avoid the spittle and spew that was flying out of his orifices. He collapsed and his chest heaved in overdosed violence. His back pitching up and down as his appendages shook. His head was now brutally shaking back and forth, still spraying the green stuff. His twitches were sudden and severe.
I was frozen. For a second there, while he stood, his glazed, pearl white eyes bore into mine. I felt like he was examining my soul. His own eyes seemed to possess no soul, and the sight of them caused a sick little lurch in the pit of my stomach. And now on the ground he writhed, helpless and uncontrollable. I overheard someone say, “We need to call for help!” I looked over at Katie, whose hand was now clutched tightly on mine, as if rigor mortis had set in. Her dismal countenance showed that she was feeling the same as me: completely terror-stricken. Just then, someone behind us threw us around. It was Ian.
“We need to go, now!” He screamed. He had somehow tore the duct-taped forties off of his hands, making them red and swollen, and slightly bruised. “C’mon, Vance! Katie! Let’s go!” Apparently, Katie and I were still locked in our abysmal death stares for he shook us both to rouse us to. It dawned on us that we indeed had to go. Calling for help meant some type of authority was going to be here soon, and I definitely did not feel like dealing with anyone of that sort.
Jay and others that were close to the fallen man formed a crowd around him to offer help and condolence. My crew, I knew, didn’t have the luxury to provide charity. We had to leave now. We made our way to the entrance, which was now quickly getting congested as everyone else obviously had the same idea. Katie’s hand was still clutched in mine has she ran beside me. Nathan, Marcus and Ashley fell in line behind us, hurried and visibly shaken. “What the fuck is going on?” Marcus wailed as he pushed us towards the wall of bodies, “What the fuck is going on!?”
Ian spun around with grave urgency, “Where’s Lauren!?” Lauren. She was so quiet the entire night that I didn’t even think to consider her whereabouts. Ian tried to go against the traffic, throwing his shoulder forward to split the waves of men and women to go back and find her. I couldn’t let him do it. It might sound selfish, but he was my ride. I threw a vice grip on his shoulder.

“Turn around, Ian! She’s probably outside!” Ian was angry that I tried to stall him and tried to throw my hand off, “C’mon, man! This way! She’s probably outside!” I tried to sound reassuring, but I wasn’t even convincing myself. Ashley broke in, heaving her weight (which was slight) towards Ian to push him forward.
“She is!” Ashley screamed above the noise, “She went outside to call her mom!” Ian, who didn’t seem to hear, kept trying to fight at our shared resistance. The staggering accumulation of people behind us, however, prevented him from going back, and the group of bodies pushed and pushed until we were finally squeezed out. It was akin to going through a filter. I felt like I was reborn, the squeeze was so tight.
Our entire crew fell out of the way of the door, to allow for the other party goers to exit as well. Ian still didn’t know that Lauren was outside, “What the hell, y’all?” he was near tears and sounded pathetic, “Y’all just left her, man. Y’all just left her!”
I ignored him and hurried towards the truck, Katie in tow. Nathan and Ashley were behind us keeping in step. Marcus had lifted Ian from his pitiful position and tried to comfort him. Around the corner, we saw Lauren, and Katie reached out to grab her. “What’s going on?” she had asked, blissfully unaware to what had caused the mind-dizzying chaos. She was still on the phone. Katie led Lauren with a hand on her back to quicken her pace, and reached out and clamped the phone shut. “Hey!” Lauren protested, “That was my mom. She’s going to be worried.”
“Sorry. No time. We gotta go.” Katie stonewalled.
Ian ran towards us, seeing that Lauren was in our midst. He came up and clutched her around the waist, hugging her to himself firmly. He was whispering, “Thank God. Thank God. Thank God.”
Nathan broke through us, hurrying ahead, “Hey, can we hurry up?!” The tone of the question made it a demand. He was pointing fiercely behind us. We turned to follow his finger and saw blinking blue and red lights were making their way over the rise in the distance. It was a busy intersection so even if the cars pull out of the way, they would have a hard time getting through. It was already heavily congested back there. We didn’t know if those lights were headed here or elsewhere, but we didn’t want to wait until the vehicles materialized to find out. We should’ve already been gone.
Just as we were loading up, the sirens were getting audible. They were low and off in the distance, but growing. We peeled out of the parking lot, taking a side street so as not to be out and in the open where the cop cars may see us. Ian, driving though impaired, booked it.
Lights flew passed us. Buildings flew passed us. Other vehicles flew passed us. Katie and I were peering out of the back window to see if there were any pursuers. There was a quick second of concern because we couldn’t see Nathan’s SUV. Katie told Lauren to call Ashley. A rushed call secured the information that Nathan had taken another route, perhaps thinking that it would be best if we split up.
Perhaps. Perhaps not. Ian was weaving his way in and out of traffic with a mean, stony face, leaning over the wheel with grit and determination. Katie and I were still checking to see if anyone would follow. My pulse wouldn’t slow. My adrenaline was pumping faster than I could manage it. My breath was heavy and wouldn’t let up. After several minutes, Katie remarked, “OK, Ian. I think you’re good to slow down now.” Another glance behind us helped to melt the worry. There was still no one following.
We waited several minutes longer to feel at ease. Ian, leaning back and relaxing, took out a cigarette and puffed to ease the tension and the shakes we all were sharing. He threw the pack back to me and I split a smoke with Katie. We all seemed to heave a collective sigh. All was right with the world. Well, right enough at least. Another quick call informed us that Nathan, Marcus and Ashley were in the clear, too. They were altogether. Alone. With no one in pursuit. Man, that was such a relief.
The rest of the ride was smooth and easy. Ian punched a button on his car stereo to play some jams. From the start, I was enthralled by the music. I was even feeling a little giddy again. Before, we were all scared sober, but now the tension eased and the music, some mixture of reggae, punk, and ska was a perfect fit for the mood. “Man, this is so good,” I exclaimed.

Ian turned his head, smiling at me, “You like it?”
“Yeah, man, this music is so good,” I repeated. I was at a loss for words. The beat seemed to pluck at my heartstrings and I was awestruck by it.
“Nah,” he sneered, “it ain’t that good. You’re probably just way high.” That I was. That I was. But that didn’t change my opinion about it at all.
“So what? Who is this?”
His smile broadened, “Sublime,” he said.
And that was how I had fallen in love with Sublime.
Katie and Ashley were both staying at Lauren’s house for the night, so with a call, we made sure to rendezvous when we dropped them off. We exited out truck once we got to the house, and Nathan, Marcus and Ashley jumped out of the SUV parked alongside the curb just in front of us.
Before Katie left with Lauren and Ashley, she leaned in close to me. I wasn’t sure what to expect so I just stood there. Her eyes narrowed and I could tell that this was the prime moment of opportunity to make a move. She wanted a kiss. Was leaning into it. Was fully expecting it. I held my hands and head back, “Whoa, whoa, whoa.”
I could tell that she wasn’t used to being dissed, because she immediately tried to storm off, pissed. I spun her around with some difficulty, her body hardening to my approach. Her mouth was pursed and her arms were crossed. Her expression was that of indignation with a tint of hurt. I tried to calm her.
“Listen, listen,” I began, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Yeah, so you played me all night just to diss me? That’s hurting me, Vance!” her words were rife with ire.
“Listen, Katie. I’m sorry but this isn’t my style. I’m not used to this.”
“Uh-huh, whatever,” she dismissed my claim.
“Quit being like this,” I pleaded, “I want to see you again. How about we just exchange numbers for now?”
She stood there, cold and distant, arms still crossed.
“Please?” I said, “Do you wanna see me again?” I pulled a scrap of paper out of my pocket and scribbled my number on it, “please?” I said again. I was letting myself appear weak, and it felt awkward but I knew I had to be myself. She let down her guard and took it.
“Ok,” she smiled, “but don’t reject me like that again.”
“Promise,” I said. She wrote her number down and gave it to me. Right before she left, she hugged me tight. I returned it.
The guys came up and joined me as I saw Katie off. Marcus punched me in the shoulder, “So what’d you think about tonight, nucca?”
I shrugged, “I dunno. It definitely had its ups and downs.”
The guys laughed. Nathan put his arm across my shoulders, “I envy you, man.”
“Why?” I asked, “You got Ashley.”
“I ain’t talking about that, man,” he blurted, “I’m talking about your first drug binge!”
“Oh…well, what’s so special about my first drug binge?”
Nathan looked at me like I was crazy, “Are you kidding me, guy? This was an awesome night for you. I wish my first forays were like this. My first couple of times were just by myself alone in my room, until I just fell asleep.”
“That’s sad,” Ian snickered. We all sort of snickered at that.
“Shut up, Ian!” spat Nathan, “The point is our boy Vance here had a good time. Adventure, man! That’s what I’m talking about. Adventure!”
“What about Jay and the dude with the dreads?” I asked. I felt it was a rather just question, “What about them?”
“Who’s Jay?” Marcus and Nathan asked in harmony.
Ian said, “Hey, Vance. There’s something you gotta understand. Jay and them—everybody there—know what they’re getting into. They’re big boys. It’s a risk they take. It’s a risk we take.”
I sat in silence for a second, thinking about what Jay had told me. I said, “We’re drudges, man?”
“Drudges?” the guys asked in unison.
“Yeah,” I said, “we’re all drudges. Doing the dirty work. But I’m not sure I want a part of it, man, ima be honest.”
“You’re quitting everything?” Marcus asked.
“I’m mos def cutting the white stuff. I didn’t know it was so dangerous. For now, I’m just gonna go with what you said, Ian.”
“What did I say?”
“Shallow waters. Remember?”
Nathan broke in, “How do you feel about the green?”
I wasn’t sure, “I dunno, man. It seems alright. I mean it feels really good. But this whole atmosphere is too harsh.”
“Well,” Nathan said smiling. He held up a little baggie. Inside sat nice, neat little nuggets of herb, “I copped this from the card table as everyone was running out.”
“More for y’all,” I said.
Ian reached out and grabbed it before Nathan could react, “Let’s say we ditch this place and head to my house.”
That was a no-brainer.
We left, Ian and I in his truck, and Nathan and Marcus in the SUV. The night was almost overwhelming for me. I sat in silence, reflecting on everything that had happened. Ian must’ve noticed that I was thinking something. He patted me on the shoulder, “It’s gonna be alright, man,” he said, “It’s gonna be alright.” His smile did bring some reassurance. I smiled, too, and shook my head vigorously. I was getting a little tired.

“Hey,” I commented, “let’s play some of that Incubus or Sublime or whatever that you got!” Ian punched his radio, and I was lost in the positive, upbeat reverberations of the miraculous music.
“Maybe shallow waters is a good idea,” Ian remarked.
“God help us,” I said, almost to myself, as I began to nod off. My eyelids were getting heavy.
“God help us all,” Ian added.
And at that moment, I knew in my heart, that God does help us. He helps us all. The sky was void and black. Trees flew past us on either side. The headlights lit the empty road ahead of us, bringing into view out of the darkness lightning fast, yellow strips that licked the underside of Ian’s truck as we flew past. As the suburbanites across the land slept, and the night cradled each carbon copy house in its arms, I knew that it was all God’s creation. It was all his doing—it was all his work. I knew as well that He had taught me something important that night. My only prayer was that I would have the proper sense of mind to remember it. That was my last complete thought before the radio’s lullabies lulled me to my dreams.
My dreams were calm, cool and wavy. I slept, enjoying the shallow waters.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 19.04.2010

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