Thank you to all who have wrote me concerning this story, I took a little break from this story to write Milo and Other Grains also found in the high school section.
I really do appreciate everyone that has commented or gave suggestions it has helped my writing style and has been encouraging knowing people are actually reading my story and enjoying it.
Disclaimer: This story is ficititious, don't read it if you are not supposed to, author's permission required for further distribution. Feel free to contact me at shaggy85x@gmail.com
Delusion Part 11
Wondrously Blinded:
Emma awakens me, its seven thirty. She is asking me to phone into school to call her in as sick. How does this work, Emma is on her own, yet sadly she can't call herself in as sick. I have to put my daddy voice on and call Mrs. Clark, the school secretary and convince her that I am Joe, concerned, willing parent, what farce and foolishness. She buys it, now I have to get Emma to do the same thing, it is equally as absurd, and I wish we just had personal days, the same result would occur. My ass is still going to skip school today no matter what. Justin is still asleep, and I like it. He is wonderful, I don't know why he did acid last night, but I think he is willing to compromise for me.
I must give him more of myself, is that how this thing works, some kind of quid pro quo, a tit for tat, and love as a corporate dealmaker. Emma goes back to her room and I join Justin on the floor and resume sleeping.
"All you need is love," calling out to me? "All you need is love" waking up to the Beatles, especially this song is so much improvement to the piercing shrieks of an alarm clock. Emma is standing god like, staring down upon me smiling.
When Emma smiles, I smile, it's very contagious. We both were dealt shitty decks but every time she gives me that smile, my worries and depression flee, into the room birds chirp, suns glow, flowers bloom. Emma loves her new record player; I wonder what Martha is up to. Justin is coaxing himself into consciousness. Emma is throwing hash browns onto the kitchen counter along with eggs and bacon. I wonder how much weed we will have to sell in order to keep this trailer paid off and also feed Emma; I don't think the gravity of the situation has sunk into her yet. I also wonder how much weed we are going to have to smoke to make Emma's breakfast edible, she is a lot of things but she ain't Bobby Flay that's for sure.
I know I won't let this experiment fail. At once Justin is helping Emma with cooking breakfast, and I laugh amusedly to myself and privately thank god.
"Do you think Martha is up?" I ask Emma,
"Yeah she is usually out in her garden at this time of the day."
I venture outside and sure enough she is out there, a hoe in hand, grace afoot. I plod forward,
"Hey Sammie," she spots me and I draw nearer,
"Hey Martha"
"Come here," She states with a grandmotherly tone, she offers herself fully now, I believe it might have something to do with what we did last night and I am drawn in. I really don't know my grandparents, my dad's parents died before I turned six and my mom's parents live in Miami. The only time I see them is when they visit us for Christmas. So Martha seems like a good replacement. "Sammie come here," I join her. "Help me pick off these tomato worms."
"What"
"They're small now, here this is what they look like" she presents a small green squirming bit of life to my eyes. "They might look cute right now but they grow into monsters." I help her, I am searching for invaders. "So Sammie, what are you doing with that old piece of work?"
"What?" I am stunned, but should I be, this is Martha and she isn't exactly coy.
"Come on, you're Emma's age, that guy has to be out of High School. I'm going to give you some advise, I might be wrong, but you know, old foxes are the slyest." I laugh but am set on edge. "You know Jim was a lot older than me."
"Really,"
"Yeah, I fell for him so hard, he was just too," A generous pause,
"What do you mean?"
"Too perfect, too alive; Sammie, skill and experience are intoxicating, but it isn't something to rest your heart on, it is intense, but usually, when it turns the corner it tears and hurts worse than ever before, you feel duped. Now I don't know about Justin, he seems nice but I think you should know that I doubt you would be the first person he has gone out with, and you probably won't be the last, that is just my vibe, but I have found that I can trust my vibes more and more as I get older. You're young Sammie and I know you don't think it, but you're still a little bit innocent and naive. I don't want to come off as an ass and I hope I didn't cross the line by telling you that, but I just don't want you to be hurt."
I don't know how to process any of this, all of this advise plays into my paranoia, I already don't know how much to invest and holdback. Is Justin worth getting hurt over? I am thinking yes, but I guess I'm on the wrong side of the equation to properly reflect.
"Sammie come here, look at this tomato worm," This worm is covered in white spikes projecting from its body, "Sammie, this tomato worm I am going to let go,"
"Why?"
"Because, it is going to die, all of these white things are cocoons from predatory wasps, the braconid wasp specifically, these wasps, they lay their eggs inside the worm and the eggs hatch and burrow around inside the worm's body, feed, and kill it, eventually. This worm will travel for weeks with these all too willing and seemingly innocuous little buggers, until it finally succumbs.
"Crazy" I quietly respond,
"Sammie, this world is filled with complex interactions; I want you to be on the right side of them."
"Thanks Martha." I stroll back into Emma's trailer, my head is swimming. But before I do that, I step on the tomato worm with the wasps; I can't let this happen even if it is for me. What is she inferring; well I know what she is inferring, but is it valid? Are we playing house? Just as we once did when we were younger, fictions played for our amusement.
"Hey" I greet Emma and Justin.
Well if this is fiction, count me in, family for the first time, belonging positioned on wicker placemats. Emma and I take our seats at the small table and Justin serves us, he's so proud, yet he is still seeking our approval. Love is blind and I am wondrously blinded.
Fun Day:
The food is really amazing; Justin definitely knows how to cook. "So what will our fun day include?" Emma asks.
"Your fun day, what does that mean?" asks Justin looking suspiciously concerned.
"Fun day, it's a day when you shirk all responsibility and have, well, fun, act as though there is no tomorrow, no consequences, like you only had one more day on the planet, me and Sammie occasionally take these, for, well, just fuck's sake."
Justin is laughing, "You kids are just reckless, maybe even dangerous, and why didn't I have friends like you when I was in high school?"
"Because we are rare Justin, you are lucky as fuck to have met people like us." Emma responds while laughing. I am so glad I am here, this is so much better than manufactured awkwardness, the cattle yards of the classroom.
"I know what we can do," I state.
"And what is that?" Emma questions.
"We can have Justin join the colonial club."
"Isn't it a little early? And I don't think he has it in him, plus we only have three people."
"It is a fun day Emma."
"What's the colonial club?" asks an alarmed Justin.
"The colonial club consists of those brave members of society who dare to drink a fifth of grocery store vodka in five minutes." I state proudly.
"That sounds stupid" Justin shoots back.
"It's alright Justin not everyone is up to the challenge" Emma states while she patronizingly pats his back.
"Okay, I guess if this is fun day tradition."
Emma and I both state simultaneously "Yes it is." Emma grabs shot glass after shot glass, Carol collects kitschy souvenir shot glasses, St. Louis, gateway to the west, Iowa the Hawkeye state, a shot glass with an attached gun barrel and handle is my favorite, and weird random ones like, Breezewood, Pennsylvania, crossroads of Pennsylvania. Emma pours the shots and places them in the center of the table with a two liter of sprite. She then retrieves a stop watch and we explain the rules, we are to take shots one at a time in a counterclockwise circle. Emma starts the watch and she takes the first shot, it looks awful, this early in the morning, grocery store vodka, this exercise is more about endurance than intoxication.
Justin takes a shot, "I can't believe I'm doing this"
I am next, "oh, that tastes horrible" I state with a puckered face and voice, Emma goes again, it looks like she is in pain, then Justin, shot then sprite, shot then Sprite, getting through this makes a lot of life look easy in comparison, more impressive is keeping it down. I am on my fourth shot,
"Drink it, drink it, drink it," Emma and Justin are urging me on, I shoot it, bang, I spit it out in one of those soap opera shock sequences. Emma and Justin are laughing their asses off,
"I'm done," I manage to recover and state. "It is way too early in the morning."
Justin and Emma are extremely amused, "So the colonial club will have to wait" Says Emma.
"Oh shut up," I respond.
"It was your idea."Justin states,
"Justin, I don't need your sass." I have to defend myself from the barrage of these two.
"So what was your guys' plan?" Justin smirks at me; okay I know what he is thinking.
Emma sits and is mauling, "I personally don't just come up with whims, my ideas are thought out, I need a minute, and I need some inspiration." Emma walks toward her new toy, that record player is going to be her new obsession.
"Who is this?" I ask,
"Its Loudon Wainwright, he's Rufus' dad."
"Oh really,"
We sit and listen to a few records and then, Emma erupts, "This seems so stagnant." She is right, somehow this feels heavy and convoluted, we must escape and now. This trailer strangles, we exit and it feels as if new life visits, skies have opened, graced and blessed with sun, earth and realness. I look at Emma directly, eyes meeting, and unexplainable communication. A shake off, we see what can't be explained, it is almost painful, we are stroke victims, unable to accurately communicate what we see, perceive and wholeheartedly know. My toes are curling with frustration, why can't I have omnipotent powers for just one hour, couldn't I solve all difficulty on this planet, and can't I show them that this is paradise. Sinew and urge, tinge and filter, everything is luminous that surrounds us. Martha is gardening still,
"Hey Martha, come with us on a hike,"
"I don't know, I think you kids are a bad influence on this old lady." Martha states jokingly."Come inside for a second, I should get my hiking sandals on,"
She is joining us. I can't believe that she is seventy two; she is immediately as spry as a spring fawn. We enter her home; it is filled with plants and cuttings of plants, flowers, and drying herbs.
Martha is pouring tea, "taste this tea kids, it's my own recipe."
We finish and exit with Martha; she cleared a trail into the adjoining forest which pretty much surrounds Sheridan. Martha connected her trail with a few existing ones and now it has become a hidden corridor, if you go out to the trail you can pretty much expect to run into someone, even at night you can usually find kids sneaking back home, or drunk people stumbling through a seeming short cut. During the day, joggers and people walking their dogs can usually be spotted. So smoking this joint will be difficult unless we head off the beaten path.
And Emma knows the perfect spot, "Bet you didn't know this was here Martha." We are heading down a cedar covered embankment.
"What, the water fall?" she states with dismissal,
"Yeah, how did you know that, only me and Sammie go down there, we have never seen anyone get close to that spot before, and we use to hang out there for hours at a time."
"Believe me I know every inch of this forest, if you really want to see something special follow me. But be prepared, it is a hike, it will probably take us at least an hour to get there."
There is a section of the trail that turns into a thicket of thorns and wild grape vines and when we are about half way past it Martha stops, "here we are, this is our turn," Martha starts to navigate pulling back a set of vines like a gate.
"This is a thorn thicket, I thought there was no way through it,"
"That's what it wants you to believe." Martha states with the voice of a sage. We singly follow Martha, Emma first, then me and after me Justin, The grape vines are soft and lush, still it feels as if we are passing through a birth canal, the narrow pathway opens up and a wider tunnel is created, we can now walk in a group once again,
"This is crazy," states Emma,
"I know it was just a fluke that I found this, I was walking Gracie my mutt and she got free from me and stumbled in here, it was like divine intervention, and it gets better than this, we still have a ways to go." The wild grape vines create a canopy, other vines lace through as well, bright orange and yellow flowers cake vines whose names I don't know and foliage that I have never seen. A thick moss carpet cushions every step and Martha stops and takes off her sandals, "Ah that feels amazing," she sinks her feet into the green swathing mat and we do the same, Martha places our shoes in her oversized ragged tote with a hazy blue PBS logo still barely visible upon it. I pull out a joint and light it up, "That a boy Sammie, you're always primed up and ready to go."
"Yes I am," I respond with a smirk. Smoking and walking, trailing our way past purples, whites, reds, intricate explosions and profusion, blossom upon blossom, honey and bumble, buzzing, whirling past. They are intent on programmed missions, directions danced, instruction through art. Relaxation, burdens passed off to the warm crisp willing and gliding air. Passing, drifting, condensing, inhaling and savoring moments given so freely, bestowed upon our newly virgin bodies, rebirth.
Further we find ourselves, still treading intense openings, ingresses into ourselves, with Martha our winding guide, she now stops. "Breathe deeply here," stated with more command than illusion. We must obey the oxygen, it is high and we become light headed. Floral pattern glimpses of reality, some acknowledged fruition of reflection. Growing stamina, clarity, cogent thoughts become more pervasive, focus becomes common, even obligatory. Cellophane, peering, knowing misunderstanding but desiring cognizance, each step is the peeling back of another layer. The path is wider; still the sun dappled canopy of wild vines covers us. Scent and bird, songs of the forest, rattles of insects, pollen floating and calling for reproduction, fertility and life surrounds us.
Justin and I linger a few steps behind, Justin grabs my hand and I smile at his sincerity, say it out loud, I love you. When do you say that in a relationship? The first moment you feel it? After the other person says it? Would it be too weird for him? Is it too soon for me to even properly recognize it?
Trek, happenstance, we are one in the here and now, this lush paradise journey, Emma turns to me and smiles. Her radiance is glowing and demands attention and I notice Justin and Martha look the same way. I can almost see light from their pores shimmer, am I seeing aura, chi, some irrefutable life force oozing through them to their surface. Some new perception is born, a knowing, a consciousness, thought traveled inside one entity to the next, and awareness of all that is around, a grand Technicolor Wizard of Oz moment.
Enlightened emotions, my eyes are wide and glancing, peripheral becomes just as focused, and pinpointing sight becomes almost painful, concentration is too pure, I am seeing too much, inner world's notions. Emma becomes brighter and so does Martha, but Justin is duller, more complicated and hazy. Further we journey, voices, whispered destinies, I can't make out what they are speaking or if it is even English.
"Sammie," I am awakening to Emma's voice, I was lost inside of myself. I hurry forward, and Martha stops,
"Well, we are almost here, just around this corner." The canopy ends, the bright sun shines in full brilliance. Brightly colored and patterned moths and butterflies don't fly but rather pulsate on berry bushes and canes, cedar trunks, unnamed verdant foliage, copious bloom, they clap their wings, pattering. Their vibration summons the other sounds, a small trickle from a moss encrusted stream, bright red beetles, metallic blue birds. The scent of mint, clover, bee balm, aromatic bud, lingering essences, open to the world melody, nature is calling me to her, it is like the core of life, the kindness of the Earth, Gaia's eye, her soul.
Martha glances with knowing virtue. Emma smells endless blush and bloom; Justin hovers over the stream bubbling from the spring and takes a drink. I am circling, smiling and I gently lay myself down on the bed of moss, and staring upwards, the sun is winking at me. "This is a lot better of a spot," I state.
Martha laughs, "yeah, hey, now is a good time to pull out a joint." I smile inside of myself at the fact that Martha is so forward with me now. We assembly, the circle gathers, intransient time slows with some permanence offered. Spark, lit, glow, orange like the flowers, orange like the sun, sweet savor, resting smolder, smoke inhaled, exhaled, blew into each other. A connected part of thickness, fabric of being, mass and matter, designing blocks, encoded paradigms revealed to us, the gatherers, empathetic joining of each to each, scent of citrus, pear, strawberry. Good weed is like good wine, hints of flavors fleeting, premonition of structure upon palate, intrinsic meaning bestowed upon witness, synesthesia, and ultimately invocation.
What does all this mean? This place found, cove and hideout, further oasis in a rainy forest. Soft eyes looking at mine, why would we choose to go back to that mechanized madness? Uncouth and cold designs, societies unconnected, love abandoned and replaced with a cold robotic solace. To visit a lonely, separated, and inhumanely indignant land is unimaginable.
Touching of palm by soft caressing fingertip, gliding fornicating lens glancing upon me, Justin at my doorstep, barriers of air and space, a vacuum is forming, and wormholes dilute linear reality. Territories are being claimed, arrogant sovereignties, biting emblems burn, but who can really own the air, the water, the sky, the land, a life form. The labor and care determine real output, sense of lease, ownership on exertion, personal care. Something that cannot impossibly overreach upon the fifth element and earthly forms as well.
The curse of reality, logic and reason dictate we must head back, before it is too late, it must be at least six o'clock, maybe seven. We journey back in an odd contented silence, our minds still lingering in patches far from the eyes of others. "So we pretty much have to go to school tomorrow don't we" I state to Emma,
"Yeah by my count, we have missed the maximum number of days allowed without a permission slip from a doctor, but, we could probably forge some letterhead if you want to commit some federal charges."
I laugh, "I can't believe that no one has connected the fact that we always miss the same days."
Martha gasps and interjects, "you mean that, you two play hooky that often, no wonder I have to help you with your Earth science homework Emma." We arrive back to the trailer park, Emma and Martha depart and Justin and I make the journey homeward.
"That place was amazing in the woods, it was like Eden."
"I know we have to go back there again, just us, having some fun rolling around on the moss, it would be perfect."
"Yeah just so Martha doesn't stumble upon us." I state and Justin smiles,
"Oh she wouldn't care, She is pretty open minded."
We stop on the street, I look into Justin's eyes, He grabs me by my waist and gently pulls me closer, the air is thick and humid, his essence is steaming and slowly drifting from him, I feel his hardness on mine. I lean in and we kiss, I feel so brave it is still light out and I can kiss in public. I feel like a one man riot.
More to Come : )