I got out of the shower and put on khakis and my faded business school t-shirt and my memory foam slippers.
The predawn March air was crisp and the water was starting to boil.
I made a pot of french press and walked down to the deck. I set the coffee and mug on the table and put my Camel Wides on my Bible.
I sat down and poured a cup of coffee and took a deep breath. Should have brought a jacket. First day of March and the birds were chirping. Life is a sweet thing.
I struck a match and lit the cigarette and opened my Bible. Ambition set in, along with guilt and the general apathy of knowing that one day i would end up regretting some of the things i enjoyed.
Mais c'est la vie, non?
I turned the thin leafy pages and sunk in deep.
I finished the coffee and cut my fingernails. Filed them. Trimmed the corners down and rounded them off.
After my three mile run and some eggs and Conecuh sausage i got in my truck and headed to the bank.
I got five fifties and went to the store.
I bought three one-liter bottles of water, three packs of Goody's headache powder, a Butterfinger and thirty dollars on pump one.
I met James at his house.
We played a two out of three on his uncle's new pool table and i won five bucks on a three-ball run finished with a simple shot up the east rail that kissed the eight ball into the corner pocket.
"Who are you going with?" He asked.
"You man. You wanna go? I got an extra ticket. It's general admission but we can get there early and get up close," i said.
"Hahha and do what? Twirl around with a bunch of hippies? No thank you. Actually i do want to go with you one day. I bet it would be fun on mushrooms," he said.
"I bet. I wouldn't know," i said.
"You don't speak latin? We shall have to remedy that," he said.
"Hahahah maybe one day."
"Do you ever dance with girls or just greasy dead-heads?" He asked.
"Mostly greasy dead-head girls. Seems like the kinds of girls i like to dance with are rare at Widespread shows," i said.
"Well you should bring some x or something. You'd love it. Great to have your skin turn into hypersensitive pleasure liquid while you're dancing," he said.
"Huh. Actually that does sound pretty badass. Can i get it in half-portions so i can ease into it?" I asked.
"Sure we can cut what i have in half."
"Ok."
I opened up one of the goody's packs and unwrapped the two wax paper rectangles. I took some water, leaned my head back, and poured the powders into the waiting pool of water in my mouth. I swallowed fast and pulled down more water.
When James came back he had a ziplock bag and a pill-cutter.
He halved two pills and carefully put them in another ziplock and handed them to me.
"I can't believe i'm about to do this. I'm gonna be like all the young-uns at their stupid raves," i said.
"And if raves were not awesome i might agree with you," James said.
"Well look i've never done it and i don't intend to but i want you to fill this up and make it look like a goody's," i said, handing him the two unfolded goody's papers.
"Its a pill.. you want me to gri-"
"No. I want your favorite thing."
His face lit up - "dude! Yes! Always coca-cola?!"
"Yeah. But it's for trading. Not for me," i said, mostly believing myself.
"Ok. Hang on."
When he came back i handed him some cash.
We went down to the kitchen and saw his aunt Donna making a couple of pizzas for her kids.
I walked in and saw her and everything came flooding back. I hadn't expected she would be here, and i had no reason to think she wouldn't be, but there she was.
She had on a long blue dress with red hibiscuses splotched here and there.
She smiled just a little when our eyes locked and then looked quickly down and away. Her eyes darted almost imperceptibly to the garage where her husband was working on his precious Porsche.
Her hair was... God her hair was the same.
Full and thick, obsidian with streaks of grey that she didn't, would never dye.
"Hey James and Jack. How is this cold day treating you?" She asked, looking at James.
"Good," James said, oblivious. He opened the fridge.
"Mighty fine Mrs. Hawkins. How about you?" I asked.
Her face was already flushed and it seemed to get a little rosier.
Her tiny gold earrings caught the chilled morning sun. A curl of her hair had escaped her hair clip and was down by her ear.
"Any day is a good day when you get to be my age," she said.
I wasn't about to strike on a fly that obviously man-made and i think she knew it.
"Do we have any black olives?" James asked from behind the door of the refrigerator.
"They're in the door," she said, her eyes staying put.
I looked at her green eyes and briefly remembered a girl from years ago who said her eyes went from green to "brilliant green whenever i have just cried or just come."
She used to say i must like them brilliant green because making her cry and making her come were the only two things i was any good at.
But she wasn't an athlete or a reader so we didn't get into any of my other what the hell was i thinking.. she is long gone and Aunt Donna is in the kitchen on the other side of the island.
