The entrance to the cemetery is up a huge hill. Rich turns
off the headlights so the cops won’t see us drive in.
“Sleastack always deals
in the cemetery, he thinks its quieter and there are two exits just in case,”
explains Rich as he squints into the dark over the steering wheel trying to
stay on the path.
Now, I don’t like cemeteries because they contain ghosts and
zombies. I don’t care if you don’t believe in them but I do. I lean over and
lock the door and roll the window up. I lean behind Rich and lock his door as
well. I don’t need a Zombie dragging him out to get to me. Rich laughs and shakes his head.
We pull to a stop where I can see a mausoleum at the top of
a short hill. Rich turns the car off. “Sleastack is just behind the mausoleum.”
Reaching in to his pocket he pulls out an envelope of cash and hands it to me.
“Why are you giving me this?” I ask. “I need you to meet Sleastack so I can
send you in the future.” He responds “And by the way don’t ever call him
Sleastack, he’ll freak.” “Great safety tip,” I mumble.
On my list of things I never want to do, this is at the very
top.
I unlock the door and Rich grabs my arm. “He’s going to give
you a sheet of LSD, make sure that you don’t handle it or sweat on it.” Now I
have never seen LSD or tried LSD. I have watched tons of movies from the 60’s
and 70’s, I am well aware that LSD makes you freak out and jump out of windows.
I climb out of the car and start my mantra “Zombies aren’t
real, zombies aren’t real.” Rich leans over and locks my door, and then he
leans back and puts his feet up on the dash. “Who can take a nap in a
cemetery?” I ask myself.
Every step towards the mausoleum is like walking in deep
mud. I am having a hard time getting my legs to move. I am sure that I see
things moving in the dark, I am ready to run if I have to. As I get closer I
can see someone standing on the side with their leg resting on the building.
“Please let this be Sleastack….I mean Gary.” I say swallowing hard.
“Who are you?” whispers a voice from the dark figure. I
force myself not to shit me pants. “I,I, I’m Geoff” I say extending my hand.
“Please don’t be gross or freakishly hideous,” I silently pray to myself.
“Where’s Rich?” the voice whispers again. “He’s asleep in the car,” I say
swallowing dryness in my mouth.
The shadow takes a step into the moonlight. He’s not hideous
but I understand where he got the name Sleastack. Big bug eyes, glasses,
feathered blonde hair, long skinny neck and tons of gold chains. I immediately
stick my hand with the envelope out to him. “Are you in a hurry?” Sleastack
asks. “I’m not one to hang out in a cemetery, “I say trying not to cry.
Sleastack motions me to follow him behind the mausoleum. Once
there he leans down and opens a briefcase. Wearing gloves he takes out a full
sheet of LSD.
To be continued………
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.
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