Chapter 4

At the front door of my house I looked across the willow trees and over the fence and into the window of Mrs. Couch's house. The window was a black hole that sucked in everything, sucked in the light and the life and fed the house and the light turned on and I opened the door and fell into the house.

I walked into the kitchen as if I wasn't supposed to be in the house, as if I was an intruder. I heard Andrea in the middle of a synthetic conversation with a complicated piece of plastic against her ear, and I went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. I cut my hand opening the lid and avoid looking out the window into the eye of Mrs. Couch's house.  Andrea walks in the room.

“Yeah, of course. Ha! I know I said the same thing to her,” She waked to the fridge and searched it. She turned to me. “Wheres the orange juice?”

Oh s**t. I drink the rest of the beer and throw it in the trash can. I forgot to go the f*****g store.

“Uhmm. Oh shoot I left it in the damn car.”

She narrowed her eyes at me and her phone fell out of the cradle of her neck onto the floor. “F**k!”

I laughed to myself as she bent over to pick it up and I eyed her a*s and then left the house in haste, putting the bong in Thomas's car seat.

I got out of the car and stood in the parking lot of the store. I walk around in a stoned daze, trying to remember what it was I came down here for. I go inside and walk down each isle for about five minutes, glazed eyes staring at the labels and cans and jars and disturbing faces on cereal boxes.

I'm standing in isle two, or three, and I see Lucas, walking towards me carrying a handful of seeds for different vegetables.

“Hey, Mr. Greene! Steve, hey man!”

“What the f**k, I just saw you twenty minutes ago.”

“I know, right? Our meeting here happened for a reason man. Yes it did.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh man I forgot all about my garden man. I'm gonna plant a s**t load of vegetables and throw some,” he whispered now, “marijuana seeds in with them. Gonna have a garden of Eden man. Its gonna be sick. Gonna have some strawberries, gonna have some plums, gonna have some forbidden fruit too man, its gonna be great. What are you doing here?”

“Oh I forgot to get f*****g orange juice for my wife.”

“Dude you should come help me plant this s**t man!”

“Forbidden fruit, which I'm assuming is weed, which is basically just a weed anyway, is going to be growing in your vegetable garden? Oh Lucas.”

“I'm pretty sure marijuana isn't a weed, its just a nick name.”

“Hey whatever the f**k it is, I consider it a f*****g remedy of life. Magic fruit. Ha ha I don't know what the f**k I'm talking about.”

“Yes you do. The weed we smoked in my car, the Devils Vegetable, is one of the most potent herbs in California, man. It opens up doors in your brain that you never knew existed. This weed gives you the key to those doors man. You're speaking the truth. Trust me, the Earth has a spirit, man, and we're all apart of its spirit. Planet F*****g Earth is essentially haunted with the spirits of every living thing, past, present and future. This weed gets you in connection with that spirit, and I got some seeds for the Devils Vegetable. Gonna plant some in my Garden of Lucas, it's gonna be f*****g A.”

“What?”

“Hey man I gotta go. Have a great night man, and the f*****g orange juice is over there.” He pointed in the complete opposite direction. 

“Oh right, thanks man. Wait how did you know I came here for orange juice? You just read my mind.”

“You told me, man.”

“I did?”

“It was the Devils Vegetable talking for you man.”

“Oh.”

“The name might not sound appealing, if you are a Christian herb user, but trust me its the best stuff, f*****g, ever.”

“I can tell. I'm pretty baked.”

“Hey man go buy some eye drops. You're eyes are glazed like a f*****g doughnut.”

“Yeah I can feel them burning.”

Lucas dropped a couple bags of seeds and bent down to pick them up. “You're a f*****g teacher man, that's not gonna be good if your boss sees you lost in the f*****g grocery store baked outta your mind. Or one of your students for that matter.”

“There's already a few students that know my terrible secret. I've talked to them personally, gave them some weed so they wont talk”

“That's kinda risky man, giving illegal substances to your innocent little students.”

“Hey, you and me smoked some herb when you were in school.” 

“Yeah but you could trust me.”

“Well, I can trust these kids.”

“Like who? Who have you given weed to?”

“Well there's kid who lives next door to me, Sean Smith. Hes in my fifth period class. He's a pretty cool kid. Intelligent for a stoner.”

“Hey I know that kid. I've sold him a couple grams before.”

“I bet. He comes to class after lunch smelling like Willie Nelsons lungs.”

“Ha ha well that's f*****g swell. Look, Steve, I really gotta go,”

“Alright, Lucas. Get the f**k outta here.” I say this with a genuine, stoned smile. “And thanks for the Vegetable.”

“No problem. Hey you should come by my place tomorrow. I wanna show you something.”

“Alright man. Goodnight Luke.”

“Peace!” He throws a couple fingers above his head as he walks towards the cash register.

I walk in the direction of the cold beverages. My head tilted down, eyes locked on the tiled floor, mind already blank, oblivious to everyone walking around me. There's wrappers on the ground, shoe prints reflecting off the glare of the ceiling lights, a couple pennies. I notice peoples shoes fly by but I don't look up at their face, not wanting to reveal my bloodshot eyes. I put my hands in my pockets and realize the weed that Lucas gave me in his car is still buried under my car keys.

I look up when I feel the cold air breathing off the glass doors with the cold drinks inside. Beverages of all f*****g kinds. Sodas, canned and bottled, energy drinks, cans and shots, tea, canned and bottled, milk, whole, 2%, orange juice, a million f*****g different orange juices. Which one does Andrea want?

I grab a bottle randomly, and grab a grape soda for myself and walk up to the register, passing the candy shelf. Oh god. I have to get something sour. Something that will rot the s**t out of the side of my cheek. I grab some sour skittles, first one bag and then I go back and grab one more for s***s and giggles, and walk up to the register.

A young girl, I believe shes in Annie's grade, is standing at the register texting, and I set the items on the counter. S**t, what is her name?

“Oh hey, Mr. Greene! Hows it going?” She put her phone in her pocket and grabbed the candy and slid it across the scanner.

“Hello, Miss. It's good to see you.” I looked for her name tag and instead found a very revealing cleavage and couldn't help but stare.

She finishes scanning the items and presses some buttons. “So that's two sour skittles, grape soda, and one gallon of orange juice. Sounds like a party.” She saw me looking at her chest, and I look up at her and shes smiling, and I feel my face burn with embarrassment; burns red so my cheeks match my eyes. I smile awkwardly and look down at my shoes. “That's going to be five eleven, Mr. Greene.”

“Oh, yeah.” I reach into my back pocket and take out my leather  wallet, and realize I gave all my money to Lucas when I was in his car. “Uhmm.”

I look up at the girl and shes biting her lip, her eyes looking into mine, hers a little glazed as well. I look down at her name tag and read it, right next to the soft swelling of her breast. Ericka.

“Ericka I have no money.”

Ericka released her bottom lip from its seductive hold and her smile faded. “Well, I'm sorry Mr. Greene, but--”

“Wait, hold on.”

My hand went into my pocket and felt the plastic bag, warm with illegal plant buds.

“I'll just, uhhm, go to my car. One second.”

I walked away and Ericka's lip resumed its sensual torture. Outside the wind blowing was very cold, laced with specks of frost. My car looked dirty illuminated under the parking lot lamp post. I unlocked the door and grabbed my check book and ran back inside to find Ericka standing in the same position, slightly leaning on the counter showing off her chest.

“Here we go.” I set the check book on the counter and looked up at her, and noticed she was chewing gum now. “Do you have a pen I could borrow?”

“No,” She smiled as she said this and her mouth was slightly open, her tongue wrestling the piece of gum. I just stared at her. “Just kidding I do.”

She bent down and I looked down her shirt and thought I saw the dark shade of a n****e when she stood back up and held the pen. She didn't set the pen on the counter, she held it in her small soft hand, so when I grab it I'll touch her hand.

I reached out very slowly and grabbed the pen, her warm hand rubbing against my cold hand. Before I took it I looked up past her cleavage and into her eyes that were staring back at mine, her eyes hungry.

I wrote on the check, spelled out Five Dollars and Eleven Cents. Ericka's blue eyes pierced mine when I asked her what the date was.

“The twenty first.” Her tongue continued rolling around inside her warm, moist mouth. I scribbled the date and felt her gaze tighten on me. “Are you alright, Mr. Greene?”

I ripped out the check and handed it to her with a questioning look.

“What do you mean?”

“Your eyes are really red.”

“Oh, its just, its just my contact lens.”

“Oh. Can I have the pen back please?”

“Sure. Have a good night, Ericka.”

“You too Mr. Greene. See you at school.” She winked and handed me the bag.

“Bye bye.”

I walked out of the store and noticed it was snowing. A semi truck roared by on the road, a rushing cloud of snow mixed with the harsh exhaust ruffles my hair. I pulled car keys out of my pocket and the bag of weed was tangled with the keys. The moon was visible behind the falling snow and it shined on every white speck. I unlocked the car and sat down in the warm, firm seat, put the key in the ignition and turned the radio on. Once the door was shut it completely silenced the cold, outside parking lot. I felt like sleeping.

Dialing Andrea's number on my phone I thought quickly of an excuse as to why I left. I hit send prematurely before conceiving an adequate excuse, but the call was already sounding in my palm. I put the phone up to my ear.

“Where the hell did you go?”

“Hey honey, sorry, I left my, uhh, checkbook at the store.” A lie.

“What?”

“I left my checkbook at the store.” A lie.

I looked down at the bag of Devils Vegetable on my lap.

“Well you could have gave me the orange juice before you left.”

From the corner of my eye I saw someone walking towards me through the haze of snow.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I was worried someone would take it.”

“Well hurry up.”

“Bye.”

Knuckles tapping gently on the cold window. Its Ericka. I roll down the window and the cold blows in.

“Hello, Ericka.”

“You left your checkbook on the counter.”

I looked at the black leather in her palm then back at her pretty face, jaw flapping wildly.

“Oh, thank you very much.” I took the check book from her small, pale hand and smiled.

“Goodnight, Mr. Greene.”

“Goodnight, Ericka.”

She smiled and walked towards the store. I watched her walk away until the snow fogged out her body until she became only a shadow. The checkbook sat in my hand, spots of frost painted on it. I turned the radio up and put it on a rock station and listened to the melancholy melodies of a Led Zeppelin song.

I yawned and took the grape soda out of the bag and set it in the cup holder and opened the bag of marijuana and shoved my nose inside, inhaling deeply. 

“Oh my god.”

Behind me in the car seat sits the red bong, wrapped up securely by the seat harness. I unstrap the bong and hold it gently like a baby. I pack the herb tightly in the bong and take the Zippo out of my pocket. The fire is hovering above the fresh bowl when I realize the bong is lacking water.

“S**t.”

I look around my car for a bottle of water and find none. The store is right there, I could just walk into the store. My hand goes to open the door but my body doesn't move. “D****t”

I take the orange juice out of the bag and snap the lid open and pour a liter of juice in the bong.