Walking out of This World

Thirteen

The dark street is dimly lit with light coming from the neighborhood's businesses and an occasional street light, looking down from rough wood poles.

Anticipation of the unknown has always been my boogey man. Tonight old Mr. Boogey is doing his best to scare my brain into silly putty.

"Hey! Can you spare a dollar?"

A scruffy looking old man stumbles into sight, his right hand sticking out of a dirty long coat. His eyes look into mine with a defeated exposure, black bags hang under vacant openings.

A moment of uneasy silence is standing between us. Is he just waiting for a handout or does he have a note?

His foot starts to tap on the sidewalk. His empty eyes search mine. Question answered. I pull out two dollars and place them in his hand.

Suddenly three more hands reach out. What is this? Some trick or treat flashback.

I feel a large hand wrap around my left arm. "Come with me!" A deep voice commands. I look up to see a tall guy, baseball cap pulled down over red hair, blue eyes and a clean face. His blue jeans swish between long steps that propel me forward. My adrenalin rush is peaking and pulsing my brain with demands to move faster.

We walk a block and turn right into a dark alley reaching out like a giant tongue. One small bulb leans out, dangling from a metal arm above a dirty back door, stationed in the wall of a rusty brick building towering above us.

We stop, backs against the rough brick wall. "Is this what you're looking for?" His hand releases my arm and he digs a white, folded note out of his front pocket.

I let a rush of air out of my mouth and grab the little flashlight from its hiding place in my pocket. Its light illuminates the sign, JD-1.

"Okay! I set my backpack on the black asphalt and pull out the little package, dropping it onto his outstretched hand.

He pushes his right hand toward me. "My name's Jason. Warren sent me to give you a test run."

My body slowly slinks down the brick wall settling like a puddle of water onto the alley's asphalt surface. "Thanks." The adrenalin rush joins the puddle.

"It looked like you were drawing a potentially unruly crowd with your Santa Clause act." He joins me on the asphalt.

"Yeah, I didn't know what to expect," I reply, my voice giving up a group of jiggling words.

A smile crosses his ruddy face. "You did alright. Next time find a way to avoid the panhandlers."

I turn and scan his face for some clues about his intentions.

"How do you know Warren?"

"We do some business once in a while. Mostly backup on my part." He pulled the greenie out of the newspaper wrap, opened the little baggie and deftly extracted the contents and rolled it into a smokable shape.

"Now it's time for a little celebration." He lights the end protruding from his grateful lips, takes a couple of puffs and hands it off to me.

"One thing I'll warn you about. If you're serious about your studies you'll go light on these things during the week. They have a tendency to twist your brain out of shape. I prefer to imbibe at the end of the week... when I can relax and let go of the week's business."

I hand the half smoked greenie back to him. "I'll keep that in mind," I kick back the words not sure I'm all in on that one.

He looks at his watch. "Hey! It's time to go." He abruptly lifts his tall body off the alley's surface, brushes off the seat of his pants and heads down the tongue of black asphalt. "I'll tell Warren you're ready." He throws the words over his departing shoulders.

I remain sitting for a moment allowing the green haze to smooth out my jangled nerves.

I notice that the bus stop is down the street just a few more paces away from the alley. Reluctantly I drag my body to the bus just in time to climb up the couple of steps appearing behind the whoosh of the opening door.

There's a few sandwiches left in the dinning room when I saunter into the House. The adrenalin has retreated back to its headquarters and I'm still enjoying a sneaky little buzz.

The door, guarding the entrance to our room, responds to the urging of my hand.

Warren is laying on his bed, his eyes are intently following the gaming action on his laptop. I toss the two white notes on his desk.

"How'd it go?" He asks, eyes remaining glued to the images on his laptop.

"As good as expected...I guess." I return the words with the same tone of disinterest. I'll tell you one thing. I'm tired!" I put my backpack on my desk promising myself that I'll get to that philosophy assignment tomorrow. I strip off my clothes and the bed accepts my body with the embrace of air cooled sheets.

"Sweet dreams!" Warren's words drift to my side of the room.

It isn't long before my eyelids close and lock in place. But the dreams that are bubbling up from the deep aren't starting out so sweetly.