Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Flying High Again

  Eddie woke up to the sound of a woman crying. His eyes struggled to focus on where he was. Lavendar and vanilla danced over clean sheets, mixing with apple shampoo. The sunlight seeped through the giant window, covering the whole room in blinding white. All he could make out was a bedside table, a copy of The Hobbit, and her bong.

  He remembered that he fell asleep in a stranger's bed. This wasn't the first time he had been in this situation, though typically there was an exchange of bodily fluids involved in the adventure. His stomach growled so hard he thought he may start dry heaving. The bed next to him was empty.

  The alarm clock on the dresser read 5:18. The woman's crying grew louder and foot steps could be heard approaching. The floor whined beneath her feet, cracking and shifting to support her. Her eyes glanced over the bedroom, realizing Eddie was awake. As if she was embarrassed, she turned around and covered her face. When she spun back to meet his gaze, her tears were wiped clean and a forced smile was plastered over her flushed face.

  "Good morning," she called out, "feeling okay?" Eddie nodded. Sleep crusted up in his eyes and made them hard to open. She sat down next to him and wiped it away. "Sorry if I woke you up, I kind of forgot you were here." Eddie laughed through his nose. "I'm pretty forgettable," he said. She shook her head and stood up. Her hair was wrapped up in a towel. Denim shorts hugged her glorious thighs, and as she stood Eddie finally got a look at her from behind. It was better than he imagined.

  "You should probably head out," she suggested, releasing her long wet hair from the towel. As she ran a comb through her soft brown tresses, Eddie stood up and got himself together. He didn't say a word, because if he did he would probably put his foot in his mouth.

  A picture frame was turned face down on a bookshelf that was on the way to her front door. Eddie nosily turned it over to find a picture of her beaming, arms wrapped around a muscular man with grey hair and a snake tattoo on his bicep. He was old enough to be her father. Was he? Or was he just the one she called daddy?

  He put the picture back as he has found it and left her house. He wanted to stay, he wanted to spend all day with her. He realized now, he really was a kid. Adults don't just sit around doing nothing all day with a stranger. He was stepping off the porch as he realized he still didn't know her name. It was too awkward to walk back in there to ask, and as he turned around to still consider it, he heard the front door lock.

Eddie's fingers picked at the dried drool from around his lips. His mouth tasted of stale weed and old coffee. He was hungry, and not really sure where his whole day went. He revved up the van and pulled towards home. The list Wayne had given him blew across the dashboard. "Oh shit," he groaned, remembering he had told his Uncle Wayne he would take care of the grocery shopping.

  He made quick work of gathering the essentials: bread, ham, cheese, eggs, beer. Eddie rushed home to find a nervous Wayne pacing on the porch. "How fucking long was the line at the store?", he snapped, chewing at his thumb nail. "Eddie what the hell were you doing?" 

  Eddie walked into the trailer and put away what belonged in the fridge. Wayne followed him, panting from worrying all day. "I ran into a friend on the way to the store and lost track of time. I'm sorry." Eddie avoided eye contact, desperate for Wayne to believe him. "You smell like reefer," Wayne scoffed. Eddie rolled his eyes and sulked toward his bedroom.

  "I know I'm not your father, Eddie, but I would appreciate a little bit of consideration. I have to leave for work in ten minutes. If you had taken any longer, I'd be stuck eating dry cereal on my lunch break."

  Wayne made himself a ham and cheese sandwich and stomped out of the trailer before Eddie could think of the right response. Guilt stung in his chest. His uncle Wayne was so selfless, so hard working, and Eddie could never measure up to the nephew he deserved. He considered running away. He could disappear and nobody would be surprised.

  Melodramatics buried deep in his guts, Eddie sat down on his bed and played a few notes of a new song he wanted to pitch to the band. It was a DND campaign gone wrong, Owlbears and dragons crawling out from the board and killing all of the players. He found a yellow note pad full of lyrics under his bed, and a sharpie rolled across the floor as he picked it up. Sharpie in hand, he wrote out some ideas for the hook.

  Band practice was at noon tomorrow, and he knew he had to come prepared. Last week at The Hideout, one of the few regular drunks complained that Corroded Coffin was "getting old" and their sound was becoming "outdated". As the main reason they hadn't introduced any new material, Eddie felt obligated to bust out at least one new, heavier jam this week.

  The chorus was easy. "Players bleed across the board, screaming howling broken swords, death becomes them in a flash, Dungeon Master met his match". Eddie tapped a beat out on his lap as he sang the words over and over. He felt spent. Inspiration was drying up.

  A baggie of white powder and a razor sat on the mirror on the chair by Eddie's desk. He hadn't done coke in weeks. He deserved it, as a little motivational treat. After a couple lines, he lit a cigarette and stared down into the mirror. Stubble was growing from his chin and upper lip, shadowing his handsomeness with the image of his father. Eddie made sure he was always clean shaven so he'd never remember his dad's face. With a beard, he was his twin.

  Surging with motivation, Eddie hopped up and shaved his face. When he slapped on his after shave the sensation stung more than usual. Note to self: don't shave when you're tooted. He began scribbling down lyrics about brave paladins and fierce rogues, disappearing before stabbing the beasts, yet still succumbing to the monsters. He took another bump and picked his guitar back up.

  He glimpsed down at his watch to see it was already 4:56 AM. Time always flies when you're having fun. He promised himself he would take a sleepy pill and get some rest, once he decided how he was going to shred the guitar solo on this song. The lyrics felt perfect, the music was so badass, he even gave room for a drum solo. All he needed now was an ear-bleeding guitar solo to prove to those bastards Corroded Coffin wasn't old news.

  Eddie heard Wayne walk into the trailer and go into the bathroom to take a shower. Wayne didn't get off work until 9:00, and he didn't usually make it home until 10:00. Eddie's heart raced as he considered how much blow he'd need to do to explain this song correctly and get the band on board with it. Deciding cocaine was too expensive, he reached into his dresser drawer and pulled out his trusty drawstring bag of pills. He popped some speed and returned the pouch to its hiding spot.

  Eddie forced himself to gulp down a glass of water as he waited for Wayne to get out of the bathroom. As his uncle walked into the hall, Eddie sprinted past him to take a piss. He didn't even shut the door. "What are you on?", Wayne asked, noticing his nephew's pupils took up almost his entire eyes. Eddie chuckled. "I've been a bad, bad boy. But don't worry, I'm an adult." Eddie zipped up his jeans, grabbed the van keys from the kitchen counter, and walked outside.