A Quiet Piece of Longing – Seven

There I was. Sitting at another bar in downtown Billings, Montana, stoned off my ass. I had smoked a blunt on the way here. And then I smoked a blunt outside. Lately I had felt that same empty loneliness and weed always did the trick of getting rid of it. I would’ve just drank but sometimes that was too much. That’s why I was such a good dealer. Understand your own addiction and you understand your customer’s. Of course, no lacing. Unless as a gift.

The level of risk fluctuated with each drug you dealt. Something like methamphetamine might attract the wrong kind of crowd. But cocaine was easy. Nearly every thirty to twenty-year-old I knew in the Los Angeles area did coke. But marijuana was the easiest to sell because nearly everyone did it. You could just walk up to anyone and ask. And then you’d have an extra fifty dollars filling your pockets.

I sold wax, carts, and flower. I once had my hands on some real special hasish but smoked it all within two weeks. And that time was spent playing video games, watching movies, and having copious amounts of sex. Cassandra disapproved of my addictions. It was easy for her to see that I was never in the right mind. I was always somehow apart. I wondered silently how she was.

All of a sudden, I found myself blinking back into reality. I had spent the last ten minutes staring into my drink and thinking of weed. Of the past. And across from me sat a beautiful redhead named Rosaline. Rose for short. She had piercings, red dreadlocks, and a multitude of tattoos. Little did I know that this women would be one big, beautiful, catastrophe. A time I’d never forget.

“Hey,” She said, “You from around here?” Her voice suddenly dropped an octave and became a whisper.

“Hell no.” I said, chugging my drink. “I’m just a passer-by. Please ignore me.”

For some reason, that made her laugh. Now, let me explain Rosealine. She had nose and tit piercings. She had fresh tattoos. One of a gun. A rose. And a snake. And, she also practiced satanism and witchcraft. She told me that on full moons she’d leave a bucket of water and crystals outside to charge energy. Personally, I didn’t understand this.

“Well, where are you from then?”

“Los Angeles.”

“And what’s that like?”

I chugged the rest of my drink and firmly set it down. “Oh, you know, just a rat infested shit hole. Similar to prison, really.”

She frowned. “Oh, you’re being sarcastic. In a bad mood?”

I shrugged. “Not really. Just extremely cross-faded.”
“On what?”

“Weed and whiskey. A prime combination of divine amounts.”

She laughed and said, “You smoke? Why don’t we go out back and smoke together?”

She stood up to leave and I followed her. We went out the backdoor and onto a plateau where you could see all the lights of the city. Like millions of stars twinkling in outer space. It was now early spring and still cold. Neither of us had a jacket.

I rolled a quick joint and lit it. “You a local?”
“Kind of. I dropped out of college and migrated here like some kind of bird.”

“Oh shit, didn’t go well?”

“Well, I fucked my professor for straight A’s and we got caught in bed by his wife.”

“…”

She punched my arm. “I’m joking! Relax!”

I laughed and took a drag. “Alright, well that makes me feel better. Personally, I never went to college. Too much bullshit just to be in debt. I was a drug dealer… and my life kinda fell apart… and that’s why I’m here.”

“God damn. How long have you been traveling? A few months?”

“A year-and-a-half.”

“You know that they call you guys? Vagabonds. Some might call you a hobo but that’s in bad taste. You’re a vagabond.”

“Well that’s nice to have a name.”

“How’d your life fall apart?”

“Well now, that’s a tough question.”

“Come on, don’t be a pussy. Tell me.”

I sighed and shrunk back against the wall. “I had a fiance. I was a drug dealer making three grand a week. And she got pregnant and it was a boy.”
“That’s great!”
“Not great. She had a miscarriage. Then she hated herself, hated the world, and then she started to hate me. The same thing happened in my life as well. I hated everything too. So, I just decided to leave. Never turned back. It’s like, everything you love in life just gets knocked down like a house of cards. And that’s what happened to me.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Why ask—“

She grabbed me by the ass and planted a kiss on my lips. It was the first or second time a girl had done that, so I was surprised. I fell back and kissed her again. I moved down to her neck and she giggled. “Stop that!” She said.

I have this habit of feeling something, but being unable to decipher it. The same was with Rosaline. I liked this girl. I would do things for her. But when it came to the emotional side of things, there was only darkness.

“You wanna get out of here?” I asked. “It’d be nice to go to a different place.”

And with that, we set out all across Billings. The moon was out and the stars were twinkling. A perfect night for a midnight adventure. She brought me out to the car and I hopped in. What a wonderfuly night, I thought. I started out cold and alone. Now I was getting into a stranger’s car, severely crossfaded. And now she was too.

“How many miles do you think you’ve driven?”
“A million billion. I’ve been all over.”

“And how the hell do you make money to support this?”

“Simple. I made three grand a week when I dealt. I have a lot saved over.”

“Any crazy stories? Customers?”
“One guy put a gun to my head.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Rosaline had the tendency to be bipolar. Maybe not bipolar though, that was the wrong term. She could just be quiet one second, and then bold and brash the next. She was crazy. But I liked crazy women. It kept things from getting boring.

“Yeah, this guy knocked on my door. I dealt weed from my house so everyone knew I was a dealer. It got me more customers. Anyway, he asks for an ounce and then he just pulls a gun out. He thought he could rob me. But I’m not one to back down. So I just get really scary and mean and he gets out. Tells you how brave he really was.”

“Sounds like you’ve lived a crazy life.”

“Yeah, not sure how much I can take. I just got out of jail.”
“And what caused that?”

“Oh you know, I was somewhere and got the proposition to steal some motorcycles. Brilliant decision!”

She laughed and pounded the steering wheel. “Jesus Christ.”

“Then the cops came knocking one day, and yeah, I got fucked.”

“Well, I like you, you know. Don’t go to jail again.”

“I’m hoping that was the one and only time.”

She swerved in between the cars and came down the exit into a residential area. “We’re picking someone up.” Said Rose.

Just what we needed and just what I suspected. More people to drink with. More people to play a game of cards. And I was good at poker. Not good at the manipulation side of things, though. I was good at the luck side. I had been lucky all my life except for a few catastrophic events. But perhaps I wasn’t lucky at all. Maybe it was all an illusion.

Who would join or two person crew of misfits and failures, I wondered. Another fine lady with her boyfriend by her side? Or a man named Gary who worked in IT and daytraded in his spare time? Both options were abysmal. People just made me feel more and more numb. There was no difference between us and animals. We just had opposable thumbs. I’d say we were more intelligent, but it’s difficult to look inside the head of a dog and count their neurons.

She pulled into the drive way and waited. Then the door opened and a woman came strolling out. She came up to the window and Rose rolled it down. Before I knew it, they were interlocked and making out grievously.

“Who’s this?” The lady asked.

“I’m Michael.”

“And what are you doing around Rosaline?”

“I’m just traveling and I met her at a bar.”

“Ohhhh, I get it. You two are together.”

Rose laughed and said, “Yeah, we kinda are.”

Rose reversed out of the driveway and onto the road. “Alright, no we’re heading to Isaac’s place.”

“For what?” I asked.

“The party of course.” She said. “He’s hosting one.”

“Hey Michael, I’m Ashley.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“If you’re traveling, where are you from?”

I shrugged. “Los Angeles. Never go there, please.”

She giggled and said, “Yeah, all I’ve heard is shitty things about it. Is it really that bad?”

“Well, let’s see. You need two jobs to survive. Gas is ridiculously expensive. And housing does not exist. But at least drugs are legal!”

“Okay Michael,” Rose said laughing. “You can calm down now.”

“Oh really? I was just getting started.”

We got back on the road. And as I puffed on my cigarette and stared at the stars, I listened in on their conversation. Rose and Ashley had a thing back in high school. They had to break up because their parents didn’t approve.

Apparently, Isaac was a college student who always threw parties whenever he had the chance. He was also a known drug dealer. But he didn’t just sell weed. And he didn’t sell any of the hard stuff. His specialty was psychedelics. He grew shrooms, he made cultures of them, and he even sold the spores. And, he was in the process of learning how to synthesize acid. But it’d take a chemistry degree to do that.

The three of us arrived at Isaac’s house. And as I stepped outside, I immediately noticed something. There was a shirtless guy on the roof, clutching a rifle. “What are you doing up there?” I asked.

“Oh, don’t you worry.” He said. “I’m just protecting you guys.”

“From what?”

“What?”

“What are you protecting us from?”

“Oh, you’re fine. Just go inside.”

Inside Isaac’s house, there was a great amount of people. Music was playing and it was shitty hip-hop. I was more of a rock guy, myself. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a seat on the couch, next to the stereo. Beside me, a woman doled out a line of cocaine and took it. Then her boyfriend did.

From the hallway, a man appeared with long hair and a beard. He was smoking a cigarette. “Hey, I’ve never seen you before.” He said.

“Well, I’m just passing by.”

“How do you know Isaac?”

“I don’t. I’m just here because Rosaline invited me—hey, what’s the deal with the guy on the roof?”

“Oh, are you talking about James?”

“If that’s his name.”

“He took too many shrooms. Now the poor guy’s permafried.”

I laughed. “And I thought I did too many drugs…”

“Well, that guy was like the king of shrooms at one point. He would do heroic doses, you know what that is, right?”

I shook my head and took a sip. “Not really. I’m a stoner and an alcoholic. Not much of a hippie.”

“Well, nowadays it’s called being a psychonaut.”

“What’s your name?”

“Kyle.” He said. “Yours?”
“Michael.”

“Well, Michael, you wanna try acid?”

I shrugged. “Fuck it, why not?”

He then reached into his pocket and gave me a tiny square of paper. It was colored purple. “This is just a small dose. You’ll see brand new colors and maybe some shapes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m certain. Just put it on your tongue and let it dissolve.”
I did as he said. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it didn’t taste like anything. He took a seat beside me and watched over me for the trip. He was a good guy. And about thirty minutes later, I was staring at my arms, watching my hair breathe. It was like my arms had grown to twice their size.

“You want some water?” He asked. “You’re looking a little sick.”

I couldn’t understand him, so I just nodded. He went to the kitchen and tossed a bottle into my lap. “There ya go.” He said, and I nodded.

I couldn’t help but stare at everything around me. It was like the universe itself was conscious. I felt a profound unity with my environment. And the walls were all shifting and breathing like they had lungs and eyes. If I was in the forest, I’d probably end up believing trees could speak.

From behind me, I heard Rose yelp. I turned around and saw a gun pointed at her. “What’s going on?” I said, slurring my words. Everything was shaking.

“This bitch is trying to steal money from me!” Isaac yelled.

“What the hell are you talking about? You’ll get your sixty when I get paid!”

“Rose, let’s just go.” I said.

She nodded and we walked back to the car. We found ourselves at the bar, getting wasted. “Michael, you seem off.” She said at the booth.

I nodded. “Some guy named Kyle gave me acid.”

She started laughing and said, “So you’re tripping right now?”

I laid my head down on the table and closed my eyes. But that didn’t do anything except make me see swirls and colorful shapes in blackness. “Yes, yes I am.”

“Well, at least you had some fun.”

“Yeah, what the hell was going on?”

“Basically, I owe Isaac money because…”

“Because what?”

“I may or may not have taken his supply of shrooms. It was just an eighth.”

“Come on, Rose.” I said. “Don’t steal from people.”

“Hey, I was planning on paying him back. If he wasn’t gonna be a dick about it, he’d have his money.”

We left the bar and hopped in the car. I stared out the window, puffing on my cigarette. Now we shouldn’t have been driving. And I mean, we shouldn’t have been driving. Because Rose was just as drunk as me, and I was high off acid, weed, and drunk at the same time. And guess what? Rose ended up ramming straight into a pole.

“Holy shit…” She said as the airbags deployed. “Are you okay Mike?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
But before anything happened, the police strolled by. We both ended up getting arrested. I would be spending thirty more days in jail.