Dog Days

Chapter 7

As he lights the pipe, he asks "How good is your weed back home?"

I smirk at him, before I explain "It's already damn good, but we recently started using pineapple juice and mango juice in some of the watering to make it stronger."

He furrows his brow as he takes a puff. He looks to me as he holds it in "Is it better than mine?"

I take it from him and state "Yeah." As I take a puff, he lets his out. I continue after I exhale and pass it back "We just have great weed, though. We have a shed for magic mushrooms, too. Heimdall is great at growing mushrooms. Not just psychedelics. We have a big patch in the woods where he grows mushrooms. He's the fungus guy."

He takes a few puffs, before asking "What does he look like? I'm just trying to picture him."

I smile "Heimdall is a big buff black guy with long dreadlocks, and golden eyes. He's actually the sweetest guy, and he always knows where everyone is. If you're looking for someone, he just points you in the direction and tells you where they're at. And he's always right, even if they were out of his sight for the past hour."

He smiles as he hands the pipe back to me. He clears his throat a few times as he recovers from smoking half the bowl and ask, "He can go all day without seeing someone and still know where they are?"

I give a short nod "He's the watchman. He's like the directory of the commune. We just follow his directions."

As I take a handful of mellow puffs, Loki frowns "I really want to meet these people, one day."

I smirk "We're hippies. We're all just finding the happiness in nature, and spreading love. We're hardly ever sick. We had someone get skin cancer, once, but that was because she had a nasty habit of sleeping naked in the middle of the day, in the field."

He smirks at me and shakes his head "How many people are nudists on your commune?"

I furrow my brow and think for a moment "We have one family that is completely nude, but they do wear clothes from time to time, and always during the winter. During the summer we sometimes go nude, but I haven't since I joined. Shirtless, yeah, but I always, at least, wore boxers."

He furrows his brow and asks "Why haven't you?"

I give a weak smile, before declaring "This has made me lose my sense of innocence, and wonder. I don't feel like I'm the person I used to be, and I honestly just want to get back to that." My eyes burn as I look down at the table, unable to make eye contact with him as I state "I feel like I might never get back." I take a moment to try to console myself, before I tell him "I feel like I've done and seen too much to ever see the same light that I used to." I furrow my brow and declare "I haven't felt as bright as I did before I enlisted, and I don't think it I'll get it back. I think this wounded me into seeing the bad, before I experience the good."

It takes me a moment to collect myself, before I look up to him. He looks at me with the most comforting face I could imagine and tells me "That's trauma, darling." I feel so defined in one word that a tear slip from my eye. I look at him as my lip quivers.

I look down as he asks me "Who do you talk to about the things you see over here?" I shake my head and he asks, softly "How often does this stuff effect your sleep?"

I can't help but sit there for a long moment, before gathering myself enough to tell him "I don't really sleep over here. I can't close my eyes and feel safe." I can't help but turn it into anger as I tell him "Three of my guys were killed when we were supposed to be in the clear, last week. I pulled one out and he was dead before we made it back."

He gives me a weak smile, before asking me "Do you sleep well at home?"

I sit there for a long moment, before telling him "I have to sleep with a light on, because I have to convince myself that i'm home. I either slept on the couch, or in my chair, or in bed, and they all have a side tables and table lamps."