Six String God

The Nanna Effect

Tiyar was wrong. Jesse N. Richardson's body handled the alcohol quite manage-ably for a boy his age with such low alcohol experience. Sure, Jesse caught himself in a light-headed elation and he kept thinking awkward phrases like "Green tea your mother" and "Boob Goggles" but his vision was good, his talking hardly slurred and he didn't go on and on about some poor unfortunate soul's mother like most drunks too. He felt strangely happy watching the lights of the city pass him in blurs of bright colors and and then he realized he was tripping for the first time. With his tripping virginity given away, Jesse got out of the taxi two streets earlier than the correct street because he was short of cab fare. And, he also thought that the fresh air would do him a bit of good.

Presently he was on Shawe Street. Shawe Street was home to the upper-middle class suburban families in the city and therefore it was, in a sense to Jesse, a slightly snooty place to live in. Although admittedly almost all the families on the street were fair, good people who didn't look down upon any poor soul who wandered along the way. Out of all the residents, Antha Awikinn seemed the most benevolent. She offered temporary shelters to teenage homeless girls, most of whom had been kicked out of homes and schools for various reasons. To Jesse's logically sound mind, this seemed at odd ends with the way Tiyar and Sofaya went on about her. It was an ominous feeling that he couldn't shake off and now he was itching to know the story behind. Itching he was, at the same time he had a strange sense of foreboding while another part of his mind, the critical part, didn't want to believe any of it. The logical part conceded that Tiyar was Jesse's oldest and best friend. Either Jesse trusted Tiyar or he didn't. The sense of disturbance he felt was like a small piece of chewing gum stuck in his teeth, it was there, he could feel it, but he couldn't get rid of it and it made him irksome.

Jesse passed the huge front lawn of the Cholmondeleys'. They were a classy family and Jesse always spotted Mr and Mrs Cholmondeley dressed smartly for cocktails at some high end party somewhere. They had two daughters and one son. Gerta and Janice Cholmondeley were pleasant thirteen year old girls, fun-loving and easy to be with. Their brother Lucien was the exact anti-thesis. He went around in preppy clothes and spoke to the Bo's Pizza delivery boys as if they were his slaves. Jesse was sure that if someone Googled douchebag, Lucien Cholmondeley's picture would show up. Lucien was smart and intelligent, but that didn't stop him from being a ninny. Yet, Jesse being Jesse, was polite to everyone. The inside of the Cholmondeley's house was lit up and there was a bubble of singing and noise. There was a party going on.

By now, Jesse was aware that he smelled bad and was direly in need of a shower. Jesse picked up his pace. Some feet and smelly seconds later, Jesse was passing Antha Awikinn's house. It was the same as he remembered when the Baywind's lived in it before Antha moved in a year ago. And yet, Jesse couldn't help noticing, there was also something different. Like the chewing gum piece previously, Jesse couldn't zero in on the difference but he knew it was there. The well manicured front lawn was the same. The house seemed to draw him in, bringing him closer and closer to it. Jesse shook his head and asked himself not to be a pussy. The green brambly hedges were just as neat and well kept. The house was still brownstone and brick, rising majestically against the blue summer night sky and the willow in the front lawn was still the same old withered willow on the front lawn. Jesse loved that willow and couldn't help stopping to look at it, as he used to do when he was younger. It reminded him of an old, graceful woman. A lonely woman, weeping for her loneliness. Weeping for her happines, for the breezes that wrapped and cradled her leaves in it's warm grasp. Just as Jesse was having this epiphanic moment, the magic of the moment broke with the arrival of a rather surprising guest.

"I wouldn't stand here and look at that house like that if I were you" said Waaleed the Crazy Arab, his black eyes glinting in the same fashion Tiyar's and Sofaya's had. He was dressed in a white long sleeved shirt, brown trousers with a little Jewish-style cap on his head. His beard was black and rich. Jesse touched his own chin in insecurity, feeling the touch of two, possibly three hairs.

"What? Why?" Jesse asked. Waaleed laughed a queer, gurgling foreboding sound.

"if I told you, you and I would both be dead" he answered. Jesse turned his gaze back to the house for a moment before he spoke.

"Tell me? What's the big d-" but Waaleed had already left. Jesse cursed in frustration. He broke away from the fence and walked again, his house now looming closer. Asshole! Jesse swore.

It was past 3.00 in the morning and Jesse sneakily tried to run to his room without making noise but his grandmother called in from the kitchen.

"The man-whore returneth" she greeted. Jesse rolled his eyes. He was too tired to correct her.

"You stink too" she said cheerfully. She was painting her nails a bright, flowery orange to match her bright-orange silk kaftan top. Her dyed red-streaky hair was piled up to an elegant knot onto her head, real gold hoops on her ears, gold bangles on her wrist and black pointy heels on her feet. A more twenty-first century Audrey Hepburn really.

"So you found the cat?" she asked. He shook his head. She eyed him. "What a lot of waste. You smell worse than my fourth husband after cleaning fish.You know, the one I married after your grandpa.. I can't even remember his name now.. Anyway". I of all people end up living with a crazy woman who's been married nine times he thought. Why God, WHY?!

"I'll try again tomorrow. Right now.. I need to relax. And.. I should probably tell you this...I drank tonight. Like.. real alcohol" he admitted shamefacedly. He stared at his dirty sneakers.

"You didn't pass out, swear or throw up?" she asked him.

"Nope. Nothing. Zilch"

"I'm so proud of you! On Saturday, we'll go to Monkey Monkey and test your alcohol tolerance levels!" she said, standing up,excited. She loved a project.

"Sure sure" he agreed.

"Ice cream is in the fridge if you like. I restocked" she said. He was grateful. Kissing his grandmother's Maybelline creamed forehead, Jesse grabbed a spoon, a whole tub of ice cream and went to his room. The ice cream was frozen solid. By the time he had a shower, it would be nice and creamy.

An hour later, Jesse N.Richardson was at his east facing window, ice cream in his hand, spoon in his mouth. He was watching the lights in Antha Awikinn's house. The windows were the not too small in the distance, Jesse could makeout the irresolute shapes of furniture. He licked his ice cream spoon absently.

Hmmmm.... I wonder......