I remember Rich’s words about not touching the page of LSD.
“Wow,” I say not really knowing what else to say. “Do you have something I can put that in?” I
ask.
He takes out a cellophane envelope, folds the paper in half, slides it in
and hands it to me.
As he does, he leans in close.” You have a nice mouth,” he
says reminding me of the hillbilly from the film Deliverance. I lean back as
his lips try to press mine. “What the fuck?” my brain screams out. The words
that come out are “Thanks.”
I start to walk away and he grabs my elbow. “I said thanks,”
I reminded him. He holds his hand out and motions for the envelope with money.
“Oh, this?” I laugh holding it out to him. With one hand he grabs the envelope;
with the other hand he grabs my wrist.
“Is Rich in the car?” Sleestack asks taking a step towards
me. “Yes, and he is waiting for me,” I
say taking a step back. “I bet he’s asleep.” With this said he slides one hand
behind my back and pulls me in. I am not sure what is going on, but feet don’t
fail me now!
I place one hand on his chest and shove him back; he
stumbles, hits the ground and looks up at me. A smile crosses his face. “Want
to play rough?” he says and slowly pushes himself back up to standing. The
second thing on the list of things I never want to do is get raped in a graveyard.
The first thing on the list is of things I never want to do is to go to a
graveyard at night. Zombie sighting has slipped to number three.
I turn and run. No questions asked, I just run. Sleestack is
right behind me. I don’t ask why he is chasing me, I just run. I am running for
my life in a graveyard with a drug dealing rapist hot on my heels.
I can see the grave markers by the light of the moon. The
grass is slippery and just like in every horror movie I’ve ever seen, I keep
slipping and falling in the grass. All I need is some hands to pop out of the
grave and grab my wrist or ankle to make this night complete.
I can see the car about 100 feet in front of me. Rich has
his feet on the dashboard, his head against the window and the dome light is on.
His back is to me because the car is pointed to drive out.
“Start the car!” I scream, “Start the car!”
“Start the car!” I scream, “Start the car!”
Rich doesn’t move. I zig zag throught the graveyard. Rich
doesn’t hear me. I am running for my life at least that’s what my brain is
telling me. Sleestack is still behind me.
I slide in the glass past the car; I bring my hand down on
the hood with a “BANG!” Rich jumps and hits the horn. “Start the car,” I scream
as I run right. “What the fuck?” Richs screams turning the ignition. The car
roars to life. I zig left, Sleestack skids on the grass.
I circle back and head for the car. Sleestack slows down as
I run for the car. I grab the handle and realize that Rich has locked the door.
I freak out as he reaches across the seat.
Sleestack waves to Rich, Rich waves back. I pull open the
door, leap in, slam the door and scream “drive!” in Rich’s face. Rich laughs
and begins to drive down the path between headstones. He pulls up next to
Sleestack and puts his hand out the window. Sleestack grabs it and shakes it.
“What’s up Rich?” Sleestack asks. “Not much man?” he responds. Sleestack winks
at me and says “See you soon.”
Rich drives slowly out of the graveyard. “How did it go?” he
asks. I just look at him. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to him.”
Hours later when I’m talking to the cops that someone
called. I’m standing on the roof with Myla, listening to Jesus Christ Superstar
and throwing fried chicken into the pool. When the cops ask me what I’m doing?
I look at them and think…..isn’t it obvious?
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.
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