Drudge by Jake Walker (red scrolls of magic .txt) 📖

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