Your Love is the Eye of the Storm

David pulled up to the driveway, parking as close as he could to the garage door without hitting it. He paused before he turned off the ignition, and stared ahead at the brown and white panels ahead of him.  After he turned off his lights, he tightly gripped his steering wheel with both of his hands, and slammed his forehead into them. Every urge to wail and scream was fighting its way from his belly to his mouth, as the words “Honey I fucked up today” went through his mind. He looked at his hands as if they were a compass back to reality. The next thing he had to do was get out of the car. He was already late for dinner. His eyes widened as he took a deep breath, which would have fulfilled its purpose if he had opened his mouth when he exhaled. David grabbed his backpack and went inside.

Before he entered into the kitchen he saw through the window that Mary had already cleared the dishes. She was on her knees wiping the floor with a rag, and paused when she heard David walk towards the door. She wanted to wait till he was in the kitchen before scolding him, but then she remembered something.

” Oh David, be careful the floor is wet,” she said.

David abruptly stopped at the entry way, but slipped anyway. Once he got his footing again, he left his shoes at the doorstep and slammed his papers onto the table.

“I told you to be careful.” She took a break from wiping the floor, and went to the dishes instead. She turned the faucet to full capacity, making it hard to hear what it was David had to say next.

 ”Maybe you should have finished your cleaning before I got home,” he sighed. Mary was grateful that her back was turned to him, so that she didn’t have to see his face. ”I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say that,” he said.

She turned down the faucet, “What was that babe?”

Annoyed that she didn’t hear him the first time. He looked down at his hands, “Nothing, never mind.” He continued to watch her, as she sifted through their various dish sponges to find the right one for this particular pan. She was always looking for the best, even when it came to sponges.

Mary wiped the pan as if it multiple crevices to be tended to.  David had been working hard to gain this promotion, and didn’t want to ride him for missing dinner again. But she needed the space to compose her words, so she turned her head and told him,  ”I need you to take out the trash. It’s getting full.”

Just as he was going to tell her what happened, the left over rage he had experienced in the car was spilling into his response. “Mary- I just got home. Do you think you could wait five minutes before you assign me things to do?”

As soon as he said it, he knew exactly what would happen next. He had just planted the seed for their next fight, and there was no turning back. He was going to commit to being right, no matter how long it was going to take for them to fight it out. Even though he had no clue exactly what it was they were going to be fighting for.

Then as expected, the dishes became louder than the faucet as she slammed them into the drying rack. She seethed to find the perfect sting to say, but as she paused her dishwashing to think of the perfect come back. Her hands didn’t notice how hot the water was until it became unbearable and she dropped the dish in the sink causing it to break into pieces.

The sound of the dish breaking stopped his train of thought, and he looked towards the sink to make sure she wasn’t hurt, but her carelessness with their things has always gotten to him. “You really should be more careful,” David said. ‘That’s a ten piece set we got from our wedding, and now we only have nine.”

Mary  grabbed a bowl from the rack and threw it towards David’s face. He ducked just in time before the bowl shattered the framed print behind him. Her thumb nail was digging into her middle finger to stop herself from yelling. “Our wedding was ten years ago,” she calmly said. “I think it’s time for us to get a new set.” She loved seeing him befuddled, as he checked his body as if a bomb just exploded.  As he touched his throat, his face, and his chest he didn’t do what she wanted, which was to look at her.

“What is wrong with you?”, David said. He was still checking his neck and face for anything bleeding.  David felt something wet on his temple, when he touched it he saw blood on his finger.

“I’m just furniture to you.”

“What? Mary, what the fuck are you talking about? Just because I don’t want to take out the fucking trash… you’re being melodramatic.” He saw a piece of the broken bowl on the the table, so he picked up and threw it on the floor with the other pieces.

Billy’s Girl: Part 2

“Billy’s Girl”

Fremont, CA-Tuesday, October 5th 1994, at approximately 3:20pm a diesel truck hit Billy Garcia, while he was riding his bike on Mission Blvd.  The eleven year-old arrived at Washington Hospital, where he was pronounced dead. Witnesses say the boy rode his bike onto the busy intersection without looking, and did not see the truck until impact.  Garcia was in the fifth grade at Vallejo Mill Elementary School. Funeral arrangements will be announced by the family. We will report as more as details unfold.

Mrs. Ulloa closed the newspaper.  She was done reading the article to our class. I could easily memorize every word, but the only thing that was worth hearing was that my best friend was dead.

I’m not sure if Billy was my first boyfriend, but when he was alive I didn’t think he was good looking. Some of the girls would mention that he was cute, but to me he smelled weird when we played outside too long.  His scent was a cross between fart and potato soup. When the school year started, Billy scored a new pair of Nike Cortezs and inherited his brother’s Raiders jersey.  Unlike the Cortezs, the shirt looked like it was passed down to at least ten brothers, with the mesh completely tattered and letters falling off.  By the time the shirt got to Billy the front said “aiders,” but he figured that the new shoes would distract our classmates.

Billy and I always spent recess together and play tether ball. I’m pretty sure Billy liked me, but I never asked.  If I heard him admit it, then we couldn’t be friends anymore, because I didn’t want to feel obligated to like him back.   Billy loved tether ball more than I did. He also knew the only reason I liked to be there, was because Joey Villhauer would always play four square right next us.  When Billy wasn’t at school I would find a way to be near Joey during recess. Joey was in sixth grade and was the tallest in his class. All the girls loved his tail that hung from the back of his neck, and I could spot him easily during recess because he always wore a Chicago Bulls jersey. I thought he had the best name in the world. The name Joey Villhauer just had the right amount of syllables for a teen hunk. I imagined him in billboards and magazines, and he and I walking around the blacktop holding hands.  I would strategically stand in places where Joey could see me, but he never noticed the weird Filipino girl hiding behind the slide. While I ogled at Joey,  Billy would continue to laugh in my face because he had just beat me in tether ball yet again. Billy never complained. He was never angry at me for liking Joey instead of him. It was as if he knew that our time together was dwindling fast.

For days after Billy’s death I was completely silent. My mom told me to pray, but that would require speaking. My mind had become an alter for Billy, where every braincell worked to save all of the moments that Billy and I had ever exchanged. On one particular occasion, my classmate Missy  walked into my room, and found me laying completely still on the floor. She said to me, “Cindy this is weird. Come on let’s get up.” I didn’t respond. Missy repeated herself  again, but there was still no movement.  She stood there for a few seconds before she turned around and shut my bedroom door. My eyes continued to be fixed on the ceiling as I obsessed about the last thing I said to Billy, which was “I’ll see you tomorrow. ” He didn’t even say anything back, he just nodded upwards and smiled. Then he turned around and jumped on his silver BMX bike and rode away. If I had known that Billy was going to be dead twenty minutes later, I would have ran after him the whole way home.

I remember the day Billy’s desk was replaced. Mrs. Ulloa worked at worp speed to make sure that we wouldn’t notice, as she shuffled Thomas from the other end of the room.  Thomas was an ESL student and liked to wipe his boogers under his desk. It didn’t take him long to bless his new one with fresh nose candy.  I would often catch Thomas in mid nose dig and watch as he peeled out a fresh wet booger.  He would then aim it towards his mouth,  then change his mind, and wipe it under the desk instead. I remembered when Mrs. Ulloa took him outside of the classroom to talk about the problem. I’m not sure how you say boogers in Spanish, but I should have asked him after they were done. When Thomas came back into the classroom he looked at my chest and smiled. At that moment, I remembered that I need to ask my mom to take me bra shopping, because my boobs were hurting like crazy without one. Thomas had his eyes fixed on my chest from his desk, and I looked up at him with scowl. There was no way I was going to let a booger eater be my boyfriend.

Soon it became Valentines Day, and I wanted to make a Valentine for Billy, so I sketched out Rogue from Xmen on a piece of printer paper. Mrs. Ulloa informed us that Billy’s mom would be stopping by to pick up our Valentines for him. I walked over to his desk and placed my drawing on top of it, making sure that there wasn’t a single booger around .  When Billy’s mother arrived, and I noticed right away that she was a lot younger than my mom. She walked up to my desk, and smiled.  I’m used to seeing Filipino moms fainting and screaming when there is a death in the family, but hers was calm and peaceful.  Maybe it was because she was Mexican and they are not as dramatic as Filipinos, or perhaps she worked too much and was overwhelmed with raising two sons on her own, and she had already accepted the tragic circumstances of her life, but I was not ready to let him go. I wanted her to say to me that it was going to okay, and that none of us kids had any reason to fear death. I wanted her to know my name because it would mean Billy had told her who I was, but she was completely silent.  My throat began to tighten, as my brain  scrambled for pent up dialogue. Finally I figured out what it was I wanted to say, and before I could tell her how much I missed Billy, she handed me an envelope and walked away. I opened up my card and it said, “Happy Valentine’s Day from Billy Garcia.” Billy had horrible handwriting, but even as I looked this generic Valentine written in perfect penmanship, I was relieved that finally Billy had finally said something from the other side.

Whenever my parents drove me around my eyeballs would be pressed to the window to see if I could catch Billy riding around on his bike. There was no escape from the thoughts of missing my friend. No one ever wanted to talk about it.  Every morning I slithered into the car while my dad listened to NPR,  arrived to school, walked into the same classroom where my friend Billy used to be, and like everyone else continued with the fifth grade. Before Billy died, I had no idea what emptiness was. Trying to think about Billy was like looking down a dark path that lead to no where. In my mind I’d try to walk through it, but I wouldn’t know where to place my feet because I was falling. I’ve always had a fear of ghosts and spiders, but never a fear of death. Why would god take my friend Billy? He was only ten. When I went to sleep at night, I wore a rosary around my neck hoping that God would infuse the answer into my brain and pray that I would live till I was eighty.

—————————————————————————————————————————-

A couple of months later, I was standing on another walkway which was taking me to my mom’s gate at the airport. There was lanky Latin boy about my age with his family in front of us, who turned around to look straight at me, but when my eyes met his he quickly turned back around. “So this is what it’s like when a guy checks you out,” I thought to myself. “Cool.”  The Latin family waited at the same gate as us. Then my mom walked out with her pretty Latina co-worker who scurried to the lanky boy and kissed him hello. My mother walked up to my brother and me and hugged us. As we were hugging our moms, the lanky boy looked back at me again and smiled.  From the look on his face, I suspect that he knew we were going to see each other again.

Later in the month my mom announced to me, “We are going to Daniella’s house this weekend.”

“Who’s Daniella?” I asked.

“She’s the one you met at the airport. She has a son named Robbie, you remember him right?”

The lanky boy. “Yes I remember him.”

It was the weekend after, that we arrived at Robbie’s house in the Oakland hills. Another one of my Mom’s co-workers had brought her daughter named Jane. Robbie welcomed both Jane and I and asked us if we wanted to go upstairs to his room. My mom ushered me to go play. As strict as my Mom was, I was surprised she would let me go inside a boy’s room, but because Jane was with me she figured it would be okay.

Jane and Robbie had already known each other for years, so they both raced each other upstairs while I lagged behind. When I walked in I noticed Robbie had a typical boy’s room with a bunk bed stacked with toys. I sat there with my orange thermal and floral patterned denim, looking at the two of them catch up.

Jane was a year older than me and already in Junior High.  She talked about her different boyfriends that she had throughout the year. She was half White and Mexican with the body of a line backer, but I could see why boys liked her. She was funny and had a way of disarming people. Within the first hour of meeting her I was no longer guarded, and she had me on my back laughing with all of her stories.

Apparently, I wasn’t sharing enough about myself so she suggested that we play truth or dare.  Now I had only played this game a couple of times with the girls in my class. The biggest dare that was ever given to me was to run to the bathroom and say bloody Mary in the dark three times. Of course I would never do it because I was too scared.  But, this particular game with Robbie and Jane became different from the moment she asked me this, “Alright, truth Cindy. Have you had your first kiss yet?”

“No” I said, embarrassed. Oh crap, it was my turn. “Um… truth… Jane? So how about you? First kiss yet?”

She just looked back at me with a grin. “Psssh… Yeah. My boyfriend fingered me the other day,” she said. Me and Robbie sat there stunned. I had only heard my older cousin talk about this with her friends, and it didn’t sound comfortable.

I wanted to end the game already, so I decided to propose a dare that I knew none of them would do.  “Alight dare Robbie. I want you to kiss Jane.” He looked back at me with a “Are you serious?” face, but f I wanted to see if he would actually do it.

I should have thought this through. Of course Jane would be down, because she was the most experienced out of three of us. He leaned away from her, as she moved his face towards him. Jane was twice his size and as I watched them, it sort of look like she was about to eat him. Her mouth was wide open as her tongue swished in and out of Robbie’s mouth, and from my angle it looked as if she was sucking his soul.  After thirty seconds, the two of them pulled back and wiped their mouths.

I had never seen anything like that. I mean I’ve seen in the movies, but that was like, in front of me. My face was frozen. Did that really happen? Why did I dare them to do that? Is that really how you french kiss? That looks gross. That can’t be how you do that. Then my frantic train of thought was interrupted by Jane’s voice.

“Alright Cindy, dare. I dare you to kiss Robbie.”

Robbie’s eyes grew big.

“Um… Okay.” I said.

Why not? I figured this was gonna happen at some point in my life, so I looked at Robbie and I put together my plan of attack.  My feet were getting numb from sitting on them, and Robbie slowly scooted himself next to me. “Close your eyes,” I commanded.  I figured if he closed his eyes first it would buy me time to figure out how I was going to French kiss a guy without throwing up.

Robbie  closed his eyes.  I swallowed all of the spit in my mouth, and took a deep breath. I didn’t know where to put my hands, but before I could decide Robbie’s mouth was already on mine.  There was a charge that surged through my whole body. I could instantly see everything that was beautiful about me and I was exchanging with him.  Even the air seemed like it was smiling as I carefully inhaled little bits of it through my nose. It was as if he was giving me every happy memory, and I could instantly experience how he feels when he sees his favorite colors.  His colors were awesome, and I could finally see my own favorite color again, as he lit up the dark path in my mind. I allowed myself to walk in the light for a few more second before I pulled away.  I opened my eyes and looked at Robbie. He was grinning, and I smiled back at him.

“Cindy, we have to go now!” my mom yelled from downstairs.

“Okay! I’ll be there in a minute.”

I straightened up my hair and turned to Robbie. “I’ll see you soon,” I said to him.

His face was still red. “Sure, I’ll get your number from my mom.”

I said goodbye to the both of them, and ran to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. When I got to the car I jumped in the back seat without looking at my parents. My mom looked back at me asked, “So what did you guys do upstairs?”

“Just talked about school,” I said.

“Oh that’s good,” she said. “You guys seem like you get a long.”

“Yeah, we do,” I said.

My mom stared at me for a moment to search my face for a hidden answer, but then turned around and fell asleep as we drove home.  My eyes were glued again to the window, but this time as I watched the streetlights flicker by I was no longer looking for Billy. God had infused the answer. There was no other choice or other path. I had to live.  Unlike me, Billy never got the chance to  have his first kiss.  I often wonder if he gets to experience these things in heaven, or if he’s just going to be an eleven year-old for all of eternity. Instead of an alter in my mind, there is a light in my heart that keeps that beautiful smile of his.  If I close my eyes, I can see us in the sun as I jump with all of my might to catch the tether ball before he beats me again.

One Out of Three: Part 3

James:

“It’s none of us. This is a trick.”

Tom:

(Tom sobs) “If this is trick then why are we still here?”

Derek:

“Who would have thought that the All-Star quarterback would cry first? You know what they say, the bigger the muscles the bigger the bitch.”

Tom:

“Just shut up you piece of shit!” (Tom tries to wipe his nose on his shoulder, but can’t reach)

James:

(Laughs at Tom) “You look ridiculous. Just calm down. I would rather spend the time that we have trying to figure out how to get out of here.”

Derek:

“There’s only one door behind us. No windows. I don’t think there are many escape options here James.”

James:

“Does anyone remember how they got here?”

Asian Man on the Moon Part 4

David slept with his ticket all night, with both hands protecting it on top of his chest. As he arrived to the building, he wished that he could fly to the top and claim his prize, but instead he took the elevator and pressed the button for the 21′st floor.

When the elevator doors opened, he looked for the office of Brian Tanner as instructed. He felt himself on the verge of skipping as he pranced down the hall. He found Brians office, knocked twice, and the door opened to a booming voice. “Mr. Nguyen, congratulations to winning a ticket to the moon. Please come and have a seat.”

David scurried to the guest chair in front of Brian’s desk, and had to force his behind to stay grounded into the seat. Luckily the chair was plush, and felt like it was giving him a hug on the bottom. He along with gravity, tried his best to keep his hands folded onto his legs.

Brian sat at the edge of his desk and looked down upon David. “Mr. Nguyen, do you realize how lucky you are?”

“Yes Brian, I’ve been waiting for this all my life,” said David. He was transfixed on the poster of Buzz Aldrin in Brian’s office, and pictured himself on that same poster. He loved seeing a heroic version of himself, with the title “American Explorer, David Nguyen.”

“I didn’t realize that this was your tenth time entering the competition. Fortunately for you, this is the year we are finally going to complete our mission,” Brian said. He walked to behind his desk to sit in his own chair. Before sitting he noticed David was transfixed on every word that was coming out of his mouth. It was a good thing he decided to floss that morning.

“Mr. Nguyen, we had funding issues in the past decade. When we tried to blast off in 2002, we had an unfortunate accident and three civilians died. Since then, NASA will not touch this project, but we found a way to complete our funding for this year,” said Brian.

“Is that right?” said David. “How is this mission being funded this time?

Brian could barely contain his own excitement, so he paused and took a deep breath. After he took a deep breath, he gleamed as he said, “We are going to leave from China. The Chinese government has agreed to fund the whole project!”

“Oh,” David said. He realized that his poster would need to have a different title. Instead of “American Explorer,” it would now say,”American Explorer, but Funded by China: David Nguyen.”

“Mr. Nguyen, don’t you think this is great news?”

David snapped out his minor disappointment, “Yes of course.” He paused. “By the way Brian, what about my plus one? My fiance Mary can still have a ticket right?”

Brian’s face had gone pale. He had hoped that his secretary had organized someone to talk to David about this matter. He cleared his throat before he spoke again. “Mr. Nguyen, your fiance Mary is dead. In fact, David she’s been dead for ten years. We do an extensive background check on all of our winners. When you listed your fiance as your possible co-pilot for the mission… I just thought, you wanted to have her with you in sprit. I’m sorry David, I’m really sure how to handle this matter.”

Asian Man on The Moon Part 3

The coolness on his nose  woke him from a dream that he had been stuck in for ten years. As he opened his eyes, he sees her.

“Hi. Wake up David. You’ve been asleep.”

She touched his face to wake him up further. It was frigid like a chilled spoon. “Why do you feel so cold?”

“Look where we are David.”

He begins to panic and fights the urge to scream, before he lets out a cry he feels a finger on his lips.

“Shhhh. It’s okay David. I’m here.”

“Where have you been?”

‘Waiting for  you .”

“I can’t stay here with you. It’s too painful.”

“I know.”

“Lets get up. Come on. Stand up.”

“Where are my feet . I can’t feel my feet.”

“Just look at me, it’s going to be okay.”

“Don’t help me. I don’t deserve it. Please don’t help me.”

“Come on David lets go to the edge.”

“That’s not safe. Don’t take me there. Let go of me.”

“Don’t worry I have you. I won’t let you go.”

“I didn’t protect you. I can’t be here with you.”

“I know David. I won’t let you go, but I can still push you.”

“Nooooo! Please Stop”

*thud*

“Mr. Nguyen…Mr. Nguyen. Wake up. Why are you sobbing?”

“I’m sorry Tracey. I was taking another short nap before our next meeting. Please don’t mention this to any of the partners.”

“I won’t Mr. Nguyen. I just want to make sure that you are okay.”

“I’m fine Tracey. Thank you for asking.”

One Out of Three Part 2

Voice on the Intercom:

“Gentlemen. I suggest you stop your quarreling. If the three of you can figure out why you are here. I promise I will let you go.”

Tom:

“I suggest YOU let me go, or I will find a way to murder you in your sleep.”

Voice on the Intercom:

“I assure you Mr. Wilkenson. If you follow the directions that I just explained, I promise your questions will be free. On one condition.”

Derek:

“I knew it. Tom, just shut up . You are going make her more angry.”

Voice on the Intercom:

“One of you is going to have to die.”

James:

“What?”

Voice on the Intercom:

“Unfortunately gentlemen, all three of you have broken my heart in the past decade. One of you deserves to die, but the three of you must decide who.”

James:

“You can’t be serious. Tom, Derek, please say something.”

Tom:

“I swear to god. When I find out who you are. I’m going to kill you. You fucking hear me?”

Voice on the Intercom:

“That’s the point of it Tom. The fact that you don’t even know who I am. Means you don’t pay attention to the those that you hurt. Perhaps James and Derek should vote for you first.”

Derek:

“You can’t do this.”

Voice on the Intercom:

“You have twenty minutes gentlemen. Then one of you will be gone.”

Derek:

“No. No. Nooooo!”

James:

“Derek, stop.”

Derek:

“Fuck you James! Tom is gotta be you. She always speaks to you first.”

Tom:

“What kind of logic is that? You two can’t recognize her either?”

Asian Man on the Moon

Crunch. Crunch. Float.

Crunch. Crunch. Float.

Black, serene, crisp. Stars. Beams. Earth. Blues. Peace. Silence. Breathe.

Ceiling…Office.

“Mr. Nguyen. Mr. Nguyen… wake up please.”

“Karen… sorry I was just taking a short nap before the meeting.”

“Johnson wants to know if your notes ready for the El Pollo Loco campaign.”

“Yes Karen. Please tell everyone I’ll be there shortly.”

“Would you like for me to help you off the floor?”

“Excuse me?”

“You are laying on the floor Mr. Nguyen. Would you like for me to help you up?”

“I was just on the moon… I mean no…Karen. I’m sorry I’ll be there in just a second.”

“Alright Mr. Nguyen. We’re ready when you’re ready.”

Polygamy 2

“So how does an open relationship work? Are you Mormon?”

“Nope Catholic. Plus if I were Mormon, I would need to be man in order to have multiple partners.”

Suddenly my fish looked soggier. How could Sherry do this to her husband? He shares her and that means he’s not special.

“Rick is something that matter?” She grabbed my hand, and squeezed. The heat from her hand surged through me. She took her finger and dripped it long my arm. Why would she want to sleep with me?

“No Sherry… It’s just that…I’ve never been on a date with anyone who’s been married. At least, not that I know of.”

“It’s not that unusual Rick, I think polyamorous relationships are becoming En Vogue.”

‘They are a R&B band. How can that be compared to marriage?”

“No silly. What I mean is, polyamorous relationships are no longer taboo. Monogamy is so restricting. Me and John we love each other so much, we don’t restrict our sexual feelings toward other people.”

“So are you saying that you have sexual feelings towards me? You do realize I’ve been eating pasta every day for the past three months?”

“Yes Rick, and I’ve been the one serving it to you.”

“So, does John know you are on this date with me right now?”

“We tell each other everything. That’s the beauty of a polyamorous relationship.”

“What happens when you want to take someone home?”

“I usually like to have my first sexy dates outside of the house. I think it makes my dates uncomfortable to sleep with me while my husband is there. Do you not like your fish. You haven’t touched it.”

I had no idea that I was pushing the fish around with my fork. Sherry was smiling at me from across the table, and it was a pulling force that was leaving me speechless, so much so that I didn’t know what to say next. I coughed into my napkin to buy me some time.

One Out of Three

“Good morning gentlemen. I trust that my associates treated you well.”

“Fuck you bitch! Get this blindfold off of me!”

“Mr. Wilkenson, I see you that your mouth gag has fallen off. Please, there’s no need for that kind of talk. I’m sure you have plenty of questions and we will address them. I promise.”

“Why do you sound so familiar? Who are you? Why are we here? Answer me!”

“Mr. Wilkenson, I assure you that all of your questions will be answered shortly. In the meantime, I will leave the three of you to talk amongst yourselves. If we manage to have any luck. The three of you will figure out why you are here. I will be back. I need to powder my nose. Please make yourselves comfortable.”

Tom Wilkenson feels a set of hands grab the piece of cloth. The hands jerk Tom’s head back suddenly and removes the blindfold. He looks to left and the right and sees two men that he’s never met before.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Tom Wilkenson. Who the fuck are you?”

“James Cartwell.”

“James Cartwell, I’ve heard of you. All star quarter back from Michigan State. You graduated in 2000 right?”

“And you are?”

“Derek Jackson. I attended Michigan State. We had a class together, Women’s rights post 1968.”

“Oh yeah I remember you. You used to be fat right?”

“And you used to be skinny.”

“I broke my back right before the NFL draft season you dick. Times have been tough since then.”

“Hey you two play nice. We need to figure out how to get out of here.”

“Well Wilkenson, I think you and I should free each other and leave the fatty behind. He’ll only hold us back.”

“I’ll still whoop your ass taint face. I remember you crying in class you bitch.”

“Will you two shut up? Are you two also cuffed to the chair?”

“Yeah Wilkenson. Maybe fat fuck can eat his arm off and free the both of us.”

“How about Derek cries over folks song like he did in class, and drown all of us.”

AmsterDamn

“A dime please.”

” Do you want tobacco?”

“No just the AK 47 please.”

“Are you sure? Wow, okay. There are papers on the table.”

Okay so the clumps go into the paper. Why won’t this roll? Ugh. The paper is too wet. Let me get another one. Lets try this again. So the the clumps go onto the paper. Then we roll…

“Excuse me. My boylee-frend can help you.”

Oh so you break up the clumps before you put them on the paper. Wow, he’s rolling this really quickly. He burned the end of the J with his lighter. That’s awesome. He’s like the Ukranian James Bond of rollers.

“Do you mind if we sit here?”

“Of course.”

Oh…. I’m too high. What if these people know I’m not from here? Someone is going to hurt me.  I’m going to get raped. I’m in the red light district. No one knows where I am. I gotta get home. But first I gotta get up.

“Bye. Thank you for the help.”

My European outfit of all black is both Bauhaus and stealth. No one will rape me in all black. I blend in with the night. You can’t rape the night.

“Excuse me…. which… which …. way is it to the train station?”

“You make a left…. then a right… then a left when you see…”

“So right, left, thank you!”

I’m never going to get home. I’m never going see anyone again. Someone is going to kill me in Amsterdam. And it’s my fault.  I wonder what he’s doing right now. Where is the train station? It’s supposed to be here. I’m going to die. I’m going to die in Amsterdam. I can’t get home. Everyone knows I’m high. How am I going to get home.  Okay think… think… think! I recognize these buildings. Lets make right.

Wow you can just pee outdoors. But like covered. Eew. I can still see the pee. Wow those windows. They look like barbies posing in their boxes. I need to get out of the red light district.

The train station…. thank god.

“One ticket please to Noordwijk.”

Okay I’m sure this is the stop. The bus driver knows I’m high. I’m sure he’s sick of all of these stupid Americans that get too high.

“Your stop miss.”

Okay walk three blocks. Turn left. Collapse. Cry.

“I made it. I’m not going to die.