E: it is a phone call
buzzing screen, alit with a meaningful monosyllable: ma
on the desk next to freshly packed bowl of marijuana
it was a quiet thursday night, due-friday's problem set sets an ease for once
a breezy paper finished wednesday; early weekend
it is november of our carbon year -71 (post atomic age)
before the break of giving thanks he's giving thanks (+ w/ hamish in a bit, for a bit, during the 18 m. interval when floor 54's study space just closed and 23's hasn't opened yet, when ham'll stop by on his way down) with a mini-break from his regular self
goodbye, world; hi, universe
he sat in silence for a while prior, once the thing was gill-stuffed w/ some greenery
and marveled evermore to be so close (just next door!) to sunshine like 24/7
and secretly reveled in the solitude he knew to be impending
the happiest about-to-be hermit
with his logos alone
exploring forcing phonons in new patterns semi-recklessly
honing his rhetoricks for the automagic joy of it
growing his broca's metaphorically
roadrunner thru unexplored wordy forests exploring
free at last of all coyotes, fearless poet he can be
to take time and tie strings from tree to tree
find connections between as many leaves he can reasonably see
as long as he's got handy enough string
and as 2207 turns to 8 he reckons hamish to be running late (the erstwhile ETA 2203)
& takes initiative to light the thing preemptively when suddenly
[d.s. al capo, but just lines 1-3]
K: the BiC slackens, grip-wise
he stiffens involuntarily
he wonders how they know
(his parents, that is)
for what other serendipity could explain the ringing phone right now
L: but i stop the premature birth of a cow
put the BiC down
pick the call up
and say hello to ma (+ pa) black
i am on speaker w/them, then
and from the acoustics, sounds like in an ongoing car ride
it is a normal conversation
at first
just pleasantries exchanged
and trivia re: things from home
then how my classes are
just fine, as always
(a full description of the courses too long to explore telephonically)
we share interesting tidbits of popular media
they wonder how i've been feeding myself
dad worried in particular about some sophomore seventeen pounds of extra fat
another father on the force saw his kid come back from higher ed twice the man he was prior
and i laugh and say i'm not concerned; the frisbee keeps me running
it is good to gad again, for a bit
but then i get anxious from missing out on my regularly scheduled hits
it becomes the opposite of relaxing—overtaxing—to continue being occupied w/all this blathering gossip
E: sorry, roy thinks, as he thinks this
L: and i start to wonder how quickly i can wrap this conversation up and get back to the good shit
L: then ma unpacks a bombshell
slowly, unparsing it in verbiage piecemeal
and as w/ all her stories i am hooked and lined up for the sequel
before even the beginning part where credits roll quickly
there is a voice tone she takes that i just know implies a story
so i can't help but listen closely
T: yesterday she was in the garden harvesting tomatoes
very late in season was this last batch becoming edible
a hidden treasure trove of reddish globes behind her large hydrangea grove
she'd picked off up to the penultimate fruity bloom
already thinking of the soup she'd brew, but then
when reaching for the final orb her stomach muscles twinged—oops
a flare more than her normal body oldness acting up
she stopped; the pain went away abrupt as it'd came on
she tried to reach again
the torso's torsion rendered her close to speechless
no screams of agony emerged b/c to vocalize would hurt more, she felt quite clearly
pulling back, it dwindled quick, but still throbbed her left lat in vicious 2/4 time in a crookedly stitched jagged line, parallel to her spine
she found it strange, for sure; bizarro phantom slice from out her side
it was go #3—determined for that last tomato was she— when she fainted totally
right beside her favorite patch of green
curled up fetal clutching abdominally anguished muscles
twitching kind of crazily
her phone beside her, starting to ring
L: as it happened my dad had called her—or was trying—
to ask about how many cans of olives she needed
when she didn't answer
he got anxious
unjustly, kind of—but he just knew, somehow
left his cart unguarded in the produce aisle at the supermarket
abandoned all else to rush home
his calls still ringing, hardly not unnoticed, except by the bugs in the grass around her
swarming on the screen
E: and that's where he found her
and his public training as a cop and first responder kicked in
fighting off the emotional hurricane
—standing somehow stocky stolid in the eye of it—
of discovering a spouse lain out vibrating
a momentary profane vision—his worst nightmare—holy shit
grinning rictus of her face the vicious reminder of how life may leave you stricken w/o any premonition, seated in the seat beside him
in the blackest mirror floats her grimace, backlit by flashing blue and red
his own sirens on his tail the only escort
he radios ahead and lets the nurses know—ready the triage unit—
in the rush transmission he omits reporting it's his wife (the patient)
he is blocking out any distracting aspects of his personal life for the thirteen point five longest minutes it takes to get to the main hospital of Harmony
knowing only speed will keep her alive; that he only must drive
meanwhile, to the west of his normal mind, he is
pretending furiously that it's not jo, that she not be that disconnected body reverberating next to him
B: that simply just cannot be; i will not believe it
T: the mantra he repeats into the two-hued light beams
staring straight ahead; eyes totally on the road; in that pretty danger zone of theta waves in lapping drone circling his dome; avoiding cars an adjuvant goal to getting quickly there
that's his main focus
left hand clenching brusque tight on the steering wheel
the right w/a soothing brush around jo's shoulder stroking her arm, constant soft caresses
as if trying to warm her insides
B: i think her soul might have frostbite
T: well not, really; he's not sure what he did think, then; nothing more than crossing streets w/the utmost of speed was his intended cognitive achievement in those 810 seconds between leaving home and St Lucy's entrance
but as he pulls up he looks off to his left to turn, then right back
and finds his wife—how suddenly her—stirring, eyes cracked just slits
as if from some great nap she was just thawing out, now
maxillofacials gawp, exhausted by a shock they don't remember having happened
lactic acid build-up now releases; throughout her legs and feet fatigue creeps
B: she looks more tired than one would be normally just before going to sleep
with droopy eyes and thru a yawn she asks me point-blank
J: hun, where are we?
L: and at this point in the story my mom chuckles nonchalantly
like this was just the punchline of the joke she had just told me
and for a moment i am too stunned to speak
because for me this sounded too near-death an experience to funny be
but i laugh once, barking short and disconcertedly
and she continues on
J: so anyway that was last night and after a daylong barrage of tests
well
[beat]
L: i have never heard my mom hesitate mid-story before
this the first time she stumbles in her usually smooth rapport
J: they found a growth beneath my left chest cavity
about sixteen centimeters above my hip
kind of hanging out between my ribs
they're not sure what it is
or where it came from
but it's there, son
L: my mouth agape i hang on slack-jawed straining air thru arid gums to power my just found dumb neurons
stupefy me, cap'n
how to parse a once-thought impossible modern truth
inconceivable that those who had conceived you could suffer mortal shaking shuffles before they get to find themselves before a shuffleboard, sweeping giant checkerpieces up flat pyramids to pass away the waning hours
an anti-reality check, it feels like
this is why i always hated chess:
there's too many possibilities to track quite perfectly
so you always miss the backdoor bishop
then it's too late to avoid check, so you get desperate to stay mate-free
J: so that's what's up, as an FYI for ya
just thought you'd want to know what's been going on at home
while you've been gone
we'll see you in a week or so
B: btw, bud, do you care if for turkey day we do boiled potatoes?
your grandmother is coming and you know how she can get about mashed foods
L: um no, not really
do i care
i mean i do
but grandma wanda's cares should take precedence
i'm not really that picky
J: swell, then; my mom will be thrilled to hear we all acquiesced once again to her bizarre culinary requests
B: that's what the holidays are all about
J: okay we'll let you go, roy
i'm sure you've still got tons of homework, you lucky boy
enjoy the readings
we'll pick you up next week
love you bye bye
B: bye son
L: um yeah bye to you two too
[hamish walks in, then, upon him hanging up]
H: who was that?
never mind, i don't really care
sorry i'm late—oh, i'd've thought you'd started by now
can i grab that bowl first?
L: sure
H: holy fuck am i in need of a break from this academic rigor
unhealthy to have been my last six hours de rigueur
ergo goodbye shitty french regulations, and let us get quickly schwasted, bråj!!!
E: click goes the BiC & phwoom goes a corner of the bowl up in smoke
hamish exhales a large plume; the room dims w/ the addition of some ashy motes
H: mmm, minty fresh, just what i needed; by the way, how'd your paper go?
L: fine, i guess
H: super
my problem sets were pretty easy
i think i'm finally getting somewhere w/the research, too
it's all clicking together, i can feel it
here: i believe it's passed to you
L: thanks man
H: yeah i got caught up in a gnarly logic loop i had to disentangle
T: leroy lifts the bowl to his lips; the corner cherries still
he decides not to light it anew and just pulls, gingerly
and the embers weep fresh THC down the stem flowing freely
H: hence the tardiness, and i would've texted, but i figured you know me by now
enough to get that i'd be down in time; i wouldn't miss this for the world
T: leroy nods, still drawing breath of emerald firebrand
he inhales it, holds it in, keeps the bowl in his hand
as alveolar absorption occurs—he feels the bronchi protesting
his eyes examine the burning orange which has spread since he first toked it in
H: this is some good shit
QNC said she just got it in
from mexico, i think?
or was it canada? either way
our neighbors north and south are on top of it
grass game strong, yo
i'd like to move there when my YPI years are done
L: where? to which one?
H: *shrug*; does it matter?
they both are far enough from home to be refreshing
what's more important is what they grow
i'd like to live in a greener zone than this one, is all
L: huh
H: and anyhow i've got time to figure it out
can i hit that, bro?
L: of course
E: once passed back, ham hits it hard w/major flames
forcefully impelling 'dro into his lungs
leroy watches him; his face droops, numb
he can't help himself but to wonder, out of nowhere
L: why do they call it cornering? the bowl's a circle, right?
it's only got one edge, nary a vertex in sight
what's the deal with that?
E: hamish laughs and coughs and hacks
phlegm expelled upon a nearby houseplant
H: what a question, man; i've never thought of it
L: there's gotta be a reason, based in the description of the thing or action
etymologies don't just happen; they're drawn out in context by humans
H: i'm not sure i agree, actually
sometimes things just occur
that's the root of universal absurdity
that compels life from being just what ought
and makes it what will actually be
L: but in this case—
H: in this case in particular
i wouldn't be surprised to find it baseless a moniker
drugs make people say things more ridiculous than normal
and also, who's to say there's never been a square bowl?
L: have you ever seen one?
H: no, but i can imagine it, &
therefore as a human i believe i can believe in it
here: i think you're the cash cab; take the last hit
i've gotta get going again; knowledge stops for no man
think some more about the bowls
shapes are tricky for an english major, i know
but i'm sure it's a crackable mystery for a linguistic type like yourself
arrividerci, compadre
good luck on your search for meaning, and good health
L: to you as well
E: hamish is out the door already by then, as leroy says it
genius anxious to be on his way and back into the stacks
needing to recommence his research almost immediately; unable to relax completely
the questing need for quaere's answers burning hot against his feet
L: and i am faced w/ the last of the dying coals
wondering why anything happens; what's it all for?
T: he wracks his brain but nothing appears
totally forgotten is his aim to write tonight; all he feels is a ringing in his ears
he kills the final bits of weed w/angry fire
then crawls abed and passes out, as any'd be by disaster tired
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