Forward Over The World

…the direction of trees blowing in the wind was north in November, the month that tasted like cinnamon oil used to flavor coffee, the sweetness of a hazelnut creamer in a strong cup of A.M. Sunrise Coffee fresh ground and looking east over the rising pasture in Rausch Holler, the blinds painted red, green and yellow, the peace of a country morning, the water from the spring that burbled from the ground a hundred yards up the valley, overlooked by steep hills that if climbed you would have found a

… the little guy with the big attitude who was the outcast of the outcasts …

dead marijuana plant that died in the drought of that summer, the entire intent of moving to Tennessee was to grow their own weed, like the kind that Demure’s friend Skin Mike used to get, the Krypy, the Krypto, the little guy with the big attitude who was the outcast of the outcasts, those who tripped balls while blasting Pink Floyd’s The Wall at deafening levels, drinking beer and smoking pot on the south side of Rolanacio, near where Snip Wilson used to live off the road to Sunray Premium Outlets, Snip the groomer, the barber from Rarotonga Beach who knew more than Peter Prickson, the President of Harvey Country, and could get a person transferred and favors answered with the lifting of a phone, how Bob ignored his pleas to avoid custodial at Harvey, Snip said he could get Bob moved to Attractions or Merch, but no, Bob wanted to do things his way or the highway, and the highway was not far off, the highway that led south through the swamps to the ecstasy of a six-pack and car stereo and a bag of buds to smoke in the hollowed out bamboo shoot Satch and Bob called Nurse Choppers because its bowl resembled not only the Rippet but a set of grinning teeth, the bamboo shoot cut by Buddy Johnson from the mini-grove surrounding the Savannah Martin Stunt Adventure, the winding queue that was empty in the offseason, Buddy just cut the shoot to about four inches, heated a wire hanger and poked it through for the channel, then popped a bud in and smoked it filterless in the Ugo as they rolled behind the set with Westmont in the cold rain of the tourist offseason, the Pickers peanut jar that Westmont converted into a ready and usable bong, the mouthpiece a stolen soap dispenser from a Harvey bathroom, loading it with ice water or mixing some whiskey in there and they had a hit that would give them a flat spin, put you to sleep like Janessa in the trailer in Rausch Holler who wouldn’t talk after they forced her to smoke, they thought she was catatonic, but she came out of it, it was, after all, only marijuana, but that summer was filled with grain alcohol mixed with Zipser and cartons of cheap Tennessee cigarettes stored in the freezer, there was nothing like the taste of a fresh, frozen cigarette from a pack that had been packed and the cellophane just torn off, in the cool country morning while sipping a strong brew of coffee and looking forward over the world…

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