The Shed

Alex was never particularly popular, but among his fellow marijuana enthusiasts he has found his peace. Life is hard, but everything is a little less frustrating with some pot.

The Shed

 

Chapter 1: Blazin' in the Sun

 

I walked through the scorching heat to the chain link gate at the top of the driveway. I unhooked the latch and pushed the gate open, passed through and closed the gate behind me. Once I entered the yard the dogs charged at me in an excited rampage. I gave them an affectionate pat on the head and swatted them away with my hand, keeping myself focused on the task at hand.

I stomped up the stairs, turned the knob and swung open the door. Stammering into the house, dizzy from the heat, I closed the door and took a second to breathe in the frigid air conditioning. In the foyer the smell of marijuana greeted me, for only a moment, before I headed for the bathroom. I took a swig of water from the faucet and walked back towards the foyer to go into the basement.

As I approached the basement door, the smell of marijuana filled my nose more and more with every step. I opened the door and the scent infiltrated my nostrils and caused my heart to race in anticipation. I took another breath and made my way down the stairs, joining my friends in the cloudy haze of marijuana smoke. 

Through the fog, I could see Nolen and Jack sitting beside each other on the couch next to the doorway. Nolen's mulatto skin was dazzling in the sun, but as he exhaled a drag from a Cigarillo the thick white smoke humbled his skins glory. He slowly placed the hand with cigar on his knee and leaned back into the couch cushions.

To the left, Jack was leaning against the armrest on the couch in a position that seemed to look uncomfortable. I couldn't comprehend his outfit, which completely rebelled against the hot sun outside. I suppose his tall slim figure and pale white skin permitted him to sport jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt in the middle of summer.

Across the room I spotted Nelson and Gray scaling out weed. Gray nodded to me, acknowledging my presence, and went back to his business. Nelson broke his attention to the scale and looked up at me. I nodded to him first, and he sent me back a two fingered salute before returning to his weed as well. I walked around the first couch and took a spot on the couch across from Jack and Nolen.

Jack’s head jerked up as he noticed me sit across from him: "How hot is it out there, man?" Jack asked as he leaned over the table extending his arm for a slap up.

"It's pretty hot out man," I confessed while answering his call for recognition, "The worst part isn't the heat though, it's the f*****g humidity. It's brutal."

"Screw Buffalo in the summer," Nolen said quietly, "and in the winter…the fall… spring…"

"You high Nolen?" I asked

"Yeah dude, of course I am."

"That's what I'm talking about man," I said approvingly, "Can't wait to smoke this bud I just bought from Nelson." I looked over at Nelson and tossed him a nod as I pulled out the Axe can safe at the bottom of my bag. I popped off the cap and, from it, withdrew my bag of weed.

"Better wait long enough to head back outside," Gray shouted from the other side of the basement, "Steve doesn't want us smoking down here too much. It makes the house smell on really hot days like today. Head out to the shed."

I pleaded my case to Gray, "Lemme chill in here for a minute man. I'll hit my one-hitter and blow the smoke into my bag. I just wanna relax until I feel like voluntarily going back out into the sauna that is currently Buffalo, New York."

"My house, my rules," Gray said assertively, “If you wanna smoke go outside.”

"You heard the man," Nelson said, not breaking eye contact the scale below him.

"A'ight man," I said reluctantly. I shoved my bud in my pocket and grabbed my knapsack off of the table. Jack and Nolen grabbed their gear as well and headed up the stairs behind me. I reached the top of the stairs and paused as I looked at the door, preparing myself for the blistering heat behind the wooden portal to the outside world. I took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and walked outside. Immediately, the blazing sun tore through my tank top and it made my skin feel like it was on fire. Behind me I could hear Jack and Nolen suck their teeth disapprovingly at the uncomfortable climate. 

"This s**t sucks man," said Nolen, now aggravated by the weather, "This heat is totally killing my high."

"Just…just…shut up man," Jack stuttered, "Nobody talk till we all sit down. Conserve your energy."

Not a word was said as we took the short walk through the backyard, into the small wooden shed behind the garage. Even in its simplicity, the sight of the Shed mesmerized me. In its glory it had become our sanctuary, our church, our home.  

I was struck by a wave of heat as the Shed doors opened; making me nearly fell backwards into Nolen. "S**t man," I said catching myself before knocking my friend to the ground, "It's hotter in there than it is out here."

"It's got that greenhouse effect, bro," said Jack gasping for air in the thick heat.

"F**k. This s**t, man," Nolen said in-between pants, also flustered by the humidity, "Global warming needs to take a time out so I can smoke my weed in some weather that isn’t f*****g miserable."

"Right dude," I agreed, "Need some snow, man."

"Yeah dude, snow would be nice right now," Jack added.

Reluctantly, we all grabbed our spots in the shed. I dropped in the chair at the far side of the Shed. Nolen and Jack sat next to each other on the bench adjacent from me. I took out my lighter and cigarettes to place a single bogey between my lips. I flicked the flint of the lighter and released the combustible gas from its chamber. I held the flame from the lighter to the end of my cigarette and let it torch the tobacco. The smoke slowly drifted into my lungs and relaxed my nerves. I felt less hot.

After a short pause Nolen’s deep, raspy voice commanded attention as he broke the silence in the Shed, “Can I bum a cig Alex?”

“Yeah dude,” I said affirmatively. Normally I kept my cigarette to myself; I was the only one with a constant supply of cigarettes at the Shed and people liked to mooch them from me often. But I decided to make an exception in the blistering summer heat. Nolen was a good friend and as the smoke chilled my nerves in the heat, I could not bring myself to deny Nolen the opportunity for it to do the same to him.

“Good looks man,” Nolen said appreciatively.

“You know I got you man,” I said tossing the cigarette into his lap. I offered him my lighter and he accepted. He lit his cigarette and I could tell that after the first drag he too had felt less hot.

We all took a moment of silence to regain our strength and motivation that had been so forcefully sucked out by the sun. Time in the Shed passed slowly. I took the time to relax in my seat before I started to blaze. In boredom, I took a detailed look around the Shed I looked up at the black-light posters of Bob Marley and marijuana portraits. Behind Nolen and Jack were the large speakers that we blasted music from. In the center of the floor stood a makeshift coffee table made from a long metal tray sitting upon a cast iron flower pot. Aside from the wall Nolen and Jack were at, wooden folding chairs lined each wall of the Shed's interior.

We sat in the Shed in silence, for what seemed like forever in the intense heat. I took the last drag from my cigarette and put it out on the center table. In a desperate attempt to break the silence, I spoke, “Yo, Jack. Lemme borrow your bowl?”

Jack, who had started to drift off into slumber against the wall in a weed induced coma, snapped back to life, as if shocked by a defibrillator. He looked at me groggily and displeased with my interruption, “What?”

“Lemme borrow your bowl?” I repeated.

His voice grew quiet, as if ashamed of his rude outburst upon waking up, “Oh. Yeah man, my bad. You know how it is once you wake from a THC nap.”

“No worries,” I said understandingly, “I’ve done it my fair share of times.”

He forced out a chuckle, “Word. Hold on just a second.” He grabbed his backpack off the floor and set it down on the table and unzipped the small pocket in its front. From it, he withdrew a long, thin object secured in bubble wrap and rubber bands. He pulled off the small rubber bands, one by one, causing the bubble wrap to unravel slightly each time one snapped off. Once the rubber bands were gone, he unrolled the bubble wrap shell and revealed a long, translucent blue bowl.

“Damn that thing’s fine,” I said enviously. 

“Yeah, she’s my baby,” Jack said protectively. He looked at it for a moment before he handed to me. In his eyes, I could see the love he felt for his possession, “If someone were to break this there would be hell to pay." He extended his arm toward me to offer me the bowl. For a moment, I hesitated; but after a second, I reached out and took the bowl from his hand.

I looked up to respond but his gaze rendered me silent for a moment. I nodded at Jack and reassured him, “I promise Jack, she’s safe with me.” I shot Jack a cocky half-smile and took the bag of weed out of my pocket. I held the baggy up to the light to admire the green nug packaged in the plastic. 

I opened the bag and before I could even pinch the small nug from the bottom of the bag, Nolen’s voice calmly erupted across from me, “Wanna match?”

The question was almost rhetorical. Whenever you asked someone if they wanted to match, they always said yes. Obviously, if you ask a stoner if he’d like you to put more of your marijuana in his bowl pack, he was going to say yes. But it was stoner courtesy to ask and so Nolen did. I looked into his eyes as serious as possible and gave him my answer, “Yes.”

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Nolen said as he pulled out his small jar of cannabis. He took out a decent sized nug and put it on the table, “Take what you need. Just don’t take it all.”

“Understood,” I said, “I am looking to get jawed as hell though man, so if you wanna match again later, just let me know.”

“Word man.”

I gently pinched off leaves of marijuana, little by little, and packed the bowl until it was filled about halfway. Once I pressed it down with my thumb, I took Nolen’s bud and did the same. The bowl looked beautiful. The deep see-through blue held excellent contrast to the opaque green leaves that peaked above the bowl head.

I took one last look at my piece of sculpted art before extending my hand towards Nolen, “I packed, you get greens,” I said reluctantly. Sometimes stoner etiquette was so hard to follow.

“Why thank you my kind sir,” Nolen said graciously, “Most people ignore the rules.”

“Sometimes I wish I ignored them a little bit more than I do,” I confessed.

Nolen laughed for a moment, understanding my point, and then returned his attention to the bowl in his hands. He reached into his pocket and took out a yellow Bic lighter, holding it in his right hand. As he raised the end of the bowl to his lips, I began to feel adrenaline course through my veins; as if I was watching a suspenseful movie. It had been about a month since I started smoking reefer; each time a smoke session commenced, I felt the same feeling flow through my body.

Nolen lit the lighter and scorched the green with the flame. The leaves collapsed as Nolen sucked the flame into the weed, causing smoke to fill the shaft of the bowl. Nolen took his finger off of the carb for a split second and, immediately, the smoky fog that filled bowl shot into his lungs. He pulled the bowl away from his lips, tossed the lighter onto the table, sat back into his seat, and held his breathe. In his eyes I could see the smoke going to his head and consuming his mind. My heart began to beat a little faster.

            As he exhaled, the smoke flowed out of his mouth in a long thin cloud and lingered in the air between us. I took in the smell and swatted the smoke away with my hand. Nolen leaned forward to hand me the bowl, keeping his thumb over the weed in so nothing would fall out. I willingly took the bowl in all its glory and moved forward to the edge of my chair. As I built up the anticipation in my mind, I heard voices approaching the Shed from around the corner. Within a few seconds, Nelson and Gray were in the doorway of the shed surveying the small room to find a seat. Nelson came and grabbed the seat to the left of me in the back corner and Gray flopped down in the chair next to the doors.

            I would have said a friendly “Hello,” to my friends if I had not been in the possession of a freshly packed bowl that I had yet to hit. I ignored their presence for a moment and went into my own world as I grabbed the lighter from the table in preparation to hit the bowl. I brought the end of the bowl to my mouth, pressing the cool glass against my lips. I lit the lighter and starred at the flame, admiring it’s vibrant blue color. Once I had taken in the flames majesty, I held it to the weed in the bowl head. As I sucked in and the flame curved into the bowl head, the green weed was transformed into a glowing orange ember. I pulled the lighter away after a second and sucked for a little bit longer. Once the smoke had filled the neck of the bowl I took my thumb off of the carb and the smoke billowed into my head.

            The smoke raced down my windpipe into my lungs, physically pushing me back into my seat, forcing me to relax my body. My back met the wood slats of the chair back with a thud. I exhaled the smoke and watched as the clear image from my eyes was fogged with gray. It took all of my might to thrust my upper body back up so I could put the bowl back on the table. Once the bowl was out of my possession, I regressed back into the chair.

            I sat for a moment, allowing the smoke to flow through my body, into my muscles, into my nerves. Beyond my daze I could hear my friends holding conversation; but, their words were lost as the THC slowly destroyed my sobriety. I sat in my chair, imagining the journey the smoke had made: into my lungs, through my veins, and rushing into my head. I felt a bit light headed for a moment, but it passed once I blinked and the isolated world I had been in faded. I was back to reality.

            I began to make out the conversation between my peers. “Nah man,” I heard Nolen say, “definitely do that deal, $150.00 for a half is definitely a good price.”

            I looked over at Nelson who was pondering Nolen’s words in his head. Ever since the birth of the Shed, Nelson had become the small time pot dealer amongst high school students in the area. Jack, Nolen, Gray and I all bought off him, and lately he had seemed to be getting more costumers. Judging by the topic of conversation, it was safe to infer that Nelson was starting to kick things up a bit. For the most part we at the Shed only bought a gram or two; if Nelson was looking to buy more quantity he must have been selling more.

            “It’s definitely a good deal Nel,” Gray said, “That’s what? $10.00 a gram? You sell it for $20.00 a gram, that's mad profit.”

            “You are right,” Nelson professed.

            “Come on, Nel,” I said, “Who doesn’t like more money?”

            “You make a fair point, sir,” Nelson said as he wagged his finger, "It's just so hard for me to hand over a buck twenty in one sitting."

            “Do you have the customer base?” Jack asked.

            “Yeah dude,” Nelson said with a smile curling at the corners of his mouth,  “All of the Senior dealers graduated last month and now there are mad people dry. Somehow people found out I sold bud on the side and now everyone is hitting me up. I can’t send another text message telling someone I don’t have bud to sell them. I die a little inside every time.”    

            “Then buy the half,” Nolen said sharply.

            “You think so?” Nelson asked semi-reluctantly. His mind had already been made; he just wanted the reassurance from his friends.

            “Yeah dude,” I said enthusiastically, "You'll sell it fast if business is picking up like you're describing."

            “Word man,” Nelson said.

            “Yeah dude,” Jack said quietly, “I’d be down for that, if you don’t do it then I f*****g will.” Jack ended his remark with a chuckle as if to say, If you do this I’ll back off, but if you don’t I’m on top of it.

            “I think I’m gonna do it man,” Nelson said firmly, “I’ll be back in a bit.” I saw a brief look of disappointment flash across Jack's face.

            “A’ight man,” I said while I slapped up Nelson as he passed by me trying to exit the shed.

            “Peace easy,” Nolen muttered as he leaned over to grab to bowl off of the table. 

Once Nelson left, the Shed became awkwardly quiet. Not as though Nelson’s presence made the Shed interesting, more like he left with the only interesting topic of conversation. Behind the silence the single sound of a lighter being lit was heard and the crackling of burning weed followed as Nolen hit the bowl.

            Nolen and I passed the time hitting the bowl one after the other. Jack had dozed off in the corner  and Gray was taking the time to roll cigarettes from the remnants of cigar guts left behind from a previous blunt. Nolen handed me the bowl once more and I lit the weed and sucked. The bowl was almost cashed when he gave it to me, there wasn’t very much of a hit left before I sucked the ash through and the bowl had reached its end. I was dissatisfied, but it was bound to happen eventually. 

            I shrugged and placed the bowl back on the table. I relaxed in my seat and felt the high hit me like a wave from some sort of science fiction movie. As I lay back I could feel my mood become lethargic and my body started to tingle ever so slightly. The following minutes were spent letting the high engulf my body and take over my mind. Random thoughts swung through my brain as I gave into its might. My thoughts held no true value, but I spent time dissecting each thought until it bored me and I moved on to another.

            About forty-five minutes after Nelson’s departure, he returned. Strolling into the Shed gracefully, he held a bag of marijuana in his left hand. I examined the bag as it bounced against his leg. Its color was different; it was green but I could see patches of purple in each nug. He sat in the chair next to me once more and everyone turned their attention to Nelson.

            “So,” Nolen pried, “Is it good s**t?”

            “Of course it’s good s**t,” Nelson said, offended, "Look at this bud man, Grand Daddy Purp. What kind of drug dealer you think I am?”

The words “drug dealer” rolled off Nelson’s tongue and sent a chill down my spine; it was the first time I had ever heard the two words outloud. A wave of realization hit me. I had spent my entire childhood looking at drugs as something that was wrong, and now one of my friends was a self proclaimed drug dealer. It didn't help that Nelson's words were filled with pride. For the first time I felt slightly ashamed to be at the Shed; but at the same time, I wasn't.

“Nah man,” Jack said from his little, dark corner. I hadn’t even noticed he got up. “We know your s**t is legit.”

“Now that’s more like it,” Nelson said affectionately, “This is some dank weed man. Ain't ever been able to get it before. My guy said he only sells s**t this dank in quantity."

"So we've been smoking skank weed?” Nolen demanded.

 "I don't know about that, but it wasn't as dank as this," Nolen said, "Now let’s light up a bowl and give her a taste.” Without a word I grabbed the bowl off of the table and handed it to Nelson who was in the midst of finding a decent sized nug to smoke. Once he settled on the appropriate one, he pulled it out and started packing the bowl. Even though I was already high, the excitement of new weed made me swoon.

But unfortunately I had to wait. I was to the right of him. This made me the last to hit it, if he didn’t pass it on greens.

I watched Nelson pack the bowl. It was the most cautious bowl pack I’d ever seen. Carefully pinching out each bit he wanted to pack, as if he was doing open heart surgery or building a ship in a bottle. But it didn’t matter, the bowl was packed; almost as full as the bowl Nolen and I shared.

Nelson kept greens and lit up the bowl. With a mighty crackling sound, the weed burned brightly. He took a modest hit and passed it to Jack. Nelson's face looked happy, pleased with the decision he made to buy it. He turned his head towards me and blew the smoke into my face. I waved the smoke away and punched him in the arm,”D****e."

I watched as the bowl made its way around to each of its eager consumers. I watched as Jack smoked his hit passing it to Nolen who then passed it to Gray. Gray took a large, champion sized hit. And once the milky smoke disappeared into his mouth he handed it to me. I didn't take my eyes off  Gray as I took the bowl and watched him exhale a large cloud of smoke. He let the smoke out with such ease, not a single cough. I felt the urge to reach his level.

I lit the lighter and held it to the bowl for a few seconds, burning each leaf to ensure the maximum amount of smoke. Even before taking my thumb off of the carb I could feel the smoke blast its way into my lungs urging me to cough; but, I powered on. I kept sucking until I couldn’t see through the neck anymore and took my thumb away from the carb. The smoke harshly crashed into my lungs and I immediately let out the terror that had built up inside my chest, coughing harder than I had ever coughed before. Nobody commented, but I still felt embarrassed.

I passed the bowl to Nelson while I continued to cough. He took the bowl from me and inspected the head where the weed should have been packed, “It’s beat,” he said and he placed it back on the center table.

It was a solid twenty minutes before anybody spoke again. I myself was judging Nelson’s new weed to the full extent. Investigating each part of my body with my brain, trying to decide if it felt good or not. I could tell everyone, including Nelson, was doing the same. It was the dankest weed I had ever tried and it had me feeling pretty good.

Jack was the one to break the long silence with a single word, “Damn.”

Nelson responded to Jack’s critique, “I took one hit, and I feel high as hell. That’s never happened before. Alex must be jawed as f**k after that monster hit he took.”

I tried to laugh but I could still feel the urge to cough from the smoke continue to rattle in my chest. “Yeah dude,” my voice was deep and raspy, “I’m high as hell.”

            “I feel good right now,” Nolen said, “I’m feeling like some television.”

            “I don’t know about that,” said Gray.

            “We aren’t going to smoke,” I said, “I’m pretty sure everyone is pretty good after that s**t Nel just gave us.”

            “Yeah dude,” said Jack, cradling his head in his hands, propping up his arms with his elbows against his knees, “Can’t we just chill downstairs?”

            “A’ight man,” Gray finally caved. Once the plan was confirmed everyone stood instantaneously. I picked up my knapsack from off of the floor and threw it over my shoulders. Nelson and Jack were the first to step out. Once they passed the doorway, Gray turned around and followed behind them. Nolen was next, and once he exited I trailed in the background and closed the Shed doors behind me. 

            I stepped into the sun. The heat bit at my nerves, making the walk to the back door feel miles away. All I could stand to think about was how good the air conditioning would feel once I opened the door to the house.

            Finally, I reached the open doorway and passed through the threshold into the house. Without disappointment, I could feel the air conditioning push the heat away from my skin. I felt immediate relief. I took off my sandals to let my toes stretch and descended down the creaky, wooden stairs into the basement.

            By the time I reached the bottom of the staircase everyone had already taken their seats. Nelson and Gray took two chairs between the couches and Jack had already passed out on the couch closest to the door. Nolen was stopped at the desk were the television sat to turn it on and grab the remote. I passed behind him and quickly flopped onto the other couch. He turned around and threw the remote at my chest and sat on floor, propping his upper body against the side of the couch.

            After a few minutes of flipping through the guide I settled on the only thing that daytime television had to offer teenagers during summer vacation, SpongeBob Squarepants. Once I hit the “Enter” button my grip on the remote diminished and it dropped into my lap. I extended myself across the cushions and laid my head on the couch pillow. I felt myself drift off into thought as I paid less and less attention to the program playing, until I was finally alone with my own thoughts. The only sound I could hear was my own voice rambling in my head as I yielded meaningless thoughts to myself. 

            It was a green day amongst friends. And I was content with the high I had earned.

Reviews

[Luca]

I don't see many problems with this work, but I'll tell you the ones I do. When he pats the dogs, then immediately swats them away after, it seems awkward. One second he's affectionate, the next he's shooing them away. Swat may not be the word you want. You say he just bought the bud, and yet you didn't even mention it. To me it feels a little inconsistent. I'd say to try to add in the part where he actually buys it. Also, sometimes, you miss a comma here or an apostrophe there. Make sure to read over it before posting, okay? Maybe describe the smell of marijuana a little more? Some people may have never smelled it before and are curious. Remember, too much description is never a problem. If your reader is deeply immersed in your story, then that is fantastic. But when you shoot for too little, the reader may feel out of place, and not have a clear picture of what they are reading. However, you did well overall, so I commend you for that.