Suburban Island

Turning Japanese (Marty)

-Marty-

I have been asking around to my coyote friends up in Canada. They say that they can't find William. He's new to the coyote system. They all had their worries about him. Jay told me he only got in to look for his daughter.

"He thought that she might be somewhere in one of the islands in America," he said last night over Skype. "We couldn't find any information on her. Not even her name or a social security number."

"How can he be sure that she was in this country?" I asked. "How could he even be sure that she was still alive?"

"He wasn't," Jay said. "He just went in blindly." He rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I tried to tell him that he wasn't ready. It took me five months to memorize all of the tunnels before I made my first run. He was so antsy when Mooney tried to tell him the different routes."

"Was he dying?" I asked. Jay's eyes grew big when I asked him that.

"How did you know?" he asked. I scratched my red hair.

"You're not the only one how has expressed concerns about William," I said. "They said that he tried to rush the head coyotes through the teachings. He kept asking many questions up there in Canada, didn't he?"

"Yes," Jay said.

"Was he sick or something?"

My Australian friend lowered his eyes. "Cancer. Lungs, stage three."

"Oh. What happened to his daughter?"

"We don't know."

I sat back in my chair. I couldn't stop thinking about that old dude since I first found him. He didn't have any cargo on him and he wasn't from the island. I've tried to listen in on the government radio for updates. They don't seem to know what to do with the old guy. I'm really worried here. (Okay, there are selfish reasons for that. But that's beside the point.)

"What happens to you now?" I asked.

"Business as usual, mate," Jay said. "We will keep digging for the truth, of course."

"Do you have my stash ready?" I asked.

"Always do."

"Same time and place?"

"Of course."

"I will have the payments ready."

"Excellent. Good night."

"Night."

Jay hung up on his end. I looked over at my stash in the bookcase. I'm about on my last baggie in my stash. Weed is practically the only thing keeping me sane in our current situation. I usually smoke with Robert and Chester. What are the adults going to do about it? They've got their own problems. Though some of us live with our folks, we are pretty much raising ourselves. Mr. Clark and the other teachers are the only ones who act like they care. Though, it's clear that it gives them something to do again.

I stared out the window as the rain poured down. It's going to be all day too? Why was Friday so far away? I only have half a baggie of pot left. I don't think I'm going to last. Robert would rather cut off his arm than share his pot. Chester's trying not to smoke so much either. Can't really go outside to raid their stash anyway. This rain could kill us if we go outside. How long would we have to wait after it stops this time?

It's been strange to be on my own at times like this. I should be used to it by now. I'm not even used to looking out the window at the silence. Cars don't even drive by on the streets anymore. They just stay parked in the driveway. The crew and I raid them for whatever we need. I never had the need to drive. Steve, on the other hand, oh buddy. It makes me sad to see him look so forlorn as he walks by his car. That mustang is his baby. He used to drive around town with his girl, Josie. Not as exciting to be driving around the neighborhood with a bright red Mustang. I would hate to see his face when the forest claims his car.