Chapter 20: Gibberish
The sun was beginning to set. We navigated across the roof and sat on the pyramid slant, chain-smoking cigarettes and flicking them into the neighborhood road.
I was down to my lucky—the last cigarette of my pack. I muttered to myself that I needed to re-up in a little bit.
"Oh shit, do you know what day it is?" I asked.
"Friday."
"Payday! Wanna walk to the store with me?"
Kiera smiled. "I'd like that. But I have a car."
I helped her off the roof, ensuring to limit physical contact as much as possible.
I knocked on Gordo's door before we left. He cracked it open, looking annoyed…
"Hey, I was gonna go to the store. You want anything?"
"You walkin?"
"No, Kiera's gonna drive me."
He opened the door a little further and flashed that janky smile. I relaxed. I thought he had been mad at me. It was just the paranoia for sure. "Perfect timing. We got a favor to ask."
Oh, so that's why he was smiling… "What's up?"
"We need to re-up, but it's in a spot we can't go," Gordo said.
"Why not? Actually, you don't have to tell me, sorry. Where at?"
Gordo nodded approvingly. "19th and Bell, not too far. He selling bags for 100. You can get one too."
"Sounds good. I might get one for Jocelyn, too."
"Yeah, you do that. I'll text you the info." Gordo handed me 100 bucks and shut the door.
I tried to call Jocelyn but she wasn't picking up.
She texted back: I'm at work.
Fuck it, I'll surprise her with the good news. I replied: on my way <3
Maybe Kiera wants a bag too…
The night walkers were finally coming out of their caves to play. More police always appeared at this time of night, but as long as we didn't do anything crazy, we were in the green.
We pulled up to Flippin' Patties and sat on the front patio. I slapped the fresh pack of Parliaments repeatedly, packing them tighter before peeling the plastic. We sparked our stogies, feeling above the law as we sat next to the NO SMOKING sign.
Earlier at the gas station I purchased a package of Bugler rollies: a pack of tobacco that came with rolling papers. I peeled the plastic off and put it back in my pocket. I took out my wallet with $400, ensuring it was still there. One for Gordo, me, and a surprise for Jocelyn and Kiera…
Kiera didn't speak of purchasing any. Maybe she didn't have any money. But I did know that her baggie from earlier was dwindling in size. She was hoping for a clean, uncut batch. The only way you could tell was by tasting it on your tongue, or just smoking or snorting it.
During the drive, Kiera told me the story of how she bought $200 worth only to be scammed. She took multiple hits from Gordo's liquor bong only to realize it was bunk shit, no effects! Not even a key to the dome did anything except leave a false drip that was nowhere near as bitter as it should be. Gordo dealt with it… I began to wonder exactly how he did so.
"Hey, so earlier you said Gordo handled it. How did he… You know?"
"Well…" Kiera crossed her thighs. How badly I wanted to look down! That was the jib brain! "I don't know exactly. But you know."
I nodded. I had a vague idea. Gordo was the last person I wanted to make enemies with.
Jocelyn rolled out the door on her skates. She looked 20 pounds lighter, just like me. I could tell she was on one. Her eyes were permanently spread wide open. She handed me an orange slushie.
"Hey, Kiera."
Kiera stood up and hugged her. They chatted for a bit, explaining how we're going to wait until she gets off work to get some stuff. Jocelyn was excited; apparently she had smoked the last of her stash this morning. Did she bring it with her to New York? When did she get back?...
Jocelyn seemed to be holding something back from me. She rolled inside. I felt uncomfortable. Kiera and I went behind the dumpster to wait.
"So you do theater?"
The memories of getting kicked off the production sprung back in my mind. "Yeah, not this production though. I walked away to take some time off. I was Demetrius in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'."
"Ohh! I was Robin Goodfellow in high school!"
A female Robin? That image made me laugh so hard. I was desperate to hear her Shakespeare voice.
"If these shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended…"
I was enthralled by her performance. I clapped for her and she hit me with a curtsy. I couldn't stop smiling in amazement.
She asked me about my ambitions to make my own theater production. As I did, I rolled up 24 Bugler rollies and stuffed them inside the pouch for later. I was now set for at least a day or two on cigarettes.
"Mind if I get one of those, cowboy?"
I smiled at the reference and handed her a rolled cigarette. I sparked one myself. She hit it and spit out some stray tobacco that entered her mouth.
"Sorry, I'm not the best at rolling."
She shook her head. "No, it's good… These are a lot stronger than regulars." She pointed at my Parliaments.
"Yeah. You ever take the Parliament filter and fill it with a bump?"
Kiera laughed. "A couple times. Now I just use my straw. You still have the one I gave you?"
I nodded. She smiled. My eyes caught her foot bouncing up and down from her crossed thighs.
Kiera blew out smoke, a devilish glint in her eyes. "Something catch yer eye, mister?"
I could feel my face turn red. "No, no, nothing…" I looked away submissively.
"Step up to the challenge," she said. I met her gaze…
"I just… noticed your bracelet. Or anklet, whatever it's called."
"My ankle bracelet? What about it?" She hit the rolled cigarette like a joint, her eyes fixed on me.
"I got lost in it."
Kiera scoffed with a smile. "Lost? In my ankle bracelet?"
I shook my head, my face feeling so hot… "Yeah…"
I wanted to say more, but each line I thought of simmered away, getting lost between then and now. Everything was better in the moment, sporadic, natural…
I stopped thinking for a moment and spoke my mind. "It matches your perfect legs. No offense, but you're really pretty." I felt even more stupid, judging myself even as the syllables rolled off my tongue. What the fuck is wrong with me? Come on, jib… Maybe if I took another line…
"Thanks…"
I looked at her face and she was blushing. What! I felt a surge of confidence and needed to trust what the dope was doing to my mind, trust the words that it told me to say. Jib! Thank you!
I needed to trust the gibberish and speak without a filter. That's what jib did; it removed the inhibitions between right and wrong, this way and that. Spontaneity! Zero gap between action and thought, idea and decision!
I understood why dope fiends of many years acted the way they did. Always walking around looking suspect, surveying the public around them, twisting their necks 360 degrees like owls do.
Why they were always popping their jaws, rubbing their arms and picking their skin, leaving bloody scratching on their necks across an insatiable itch. Stopping in their tracks to stare at people from the corner of their eye. Always knowing where the coppers were, aka the popo. Finagling with dirty street items, talking to strangers or invisible entities, having spazmatic body movements, walking funny with a limp, wearing fucked up clothing, crouching down…
Dope removed your impulse control, allowing you to live freely in the moment. From the outside, it seemed strange, even dangerous… But how liberating! How free! To not care any longer about nothing except the time at hand!
I began to rub my neck and stretch it sideways.
"You okay?" Kiera asked.
"Yeah, my neck feels sore though. It's weird."
"We can take a hit as soon as we re-up. Here," Kiera scooted closer to me and flicked away her rollie onto the dirt, letting the 3 hits burn away on its own. She put her hand on the nape of my neck, rubbing with her pink fingertips, kneading my stress away. My head dropped as I let out some sighs. I felt the blood flow through my body, similar to the serotonin pushes of molly.
She took her fingers away then brushed her red hair toward her front, revealing her bare neck. She turned away from me… I gulped and timidly rubbed her neck. She moaned softly which gave me the confidence to get into it. I tried to detach from feeling any enjoyment, but I could not deny it.