Chapter 14

I pulled into his driveway slowly and saw Lucas standing outside in the dim evening with a black man. I got out of my BMW and shot a finger at them. “Whats up guys?”

Lucas had his long hair up in a pony tail tied with scotch tape. He was smiling at me, expecting me to laugh at him, but when I didn't he said, “Hey Steven man, what the hell's going on man?”

“Nothing much. Nice hair. You look like a damn a*****e.”

“Hey man! Its the style these days. Everybody's f*****g doing it!”

“Well you're the first person to start. Now tell me who is this black fellow.”

“His name is Opus. He's from Zimbabwe. He doesn't speak any English.”

“Opus, huh? So how are you related to this guy?”

“I think he's possibly one of my cousins.”

“Really?”

“Hey Steven, remember when I told you I had something to show you?”

“Yes, I recall.” 

“Well I have two things to show you. Two things.”

Then Opus said, “Towchon!”

“YES! Exactly, Opus. Exactly two things.”

“Hey Opus.” I eyed the black man, dressed in a long giant leather sweater that fell to above his feet and seemed to hide his body entirely.

“Opus doesn't know his name, Steven.” Lucas was gently peeling the tape out of his thick, tangled hair and his vaguely bearded face cringed in the process. Opus was laughing at this.

“Why is his name Opus then if he can't even respond to the name?”

“Opus is partly deaf.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It's pretty funny when you wake up in the middle of the night to an old black guy doing cartwheels in the dark shadows of the night.”

“Lucas, I just have to say what the f**k.”

“The f**k.”

“Yes.”

“Steven.”

“What?”

“Follow me.”

“What about this Opus fellow?”

“Oh he doesn't go in the house until it's entirely dark.”

“That's weird.”

“It's a Zimbabwean thing I guess.”

We were walking through the crowded hallways of his house, piles of random clothing and books and picture frames and paintings and shoes and pillows and chairs and couches and things, just the most random, uncommon f*****g objects that lay irrelevantly scattered throughout the entire congested house. I was feeling like the house was trying to swallow me and then finally the door opened and we were in the backyard, sitting in the folding chairs staring into the dark water of the pool. Lucas spoke.

“Now, if you will even try to accept the fact that what I'm about to tell you is the truth, things will go a lot smoother down the road of Steven Greene's life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have the chance to make one hundred thousand dollars. Easily.”

“How?”

“Well Steven I'll tell you how! Its a deal with the devil.”

“What?”

“The Devils Vegetable.”

“Oh. Right!”

“It's literally a deal with the devil, hah.”

“Tell me more.”

“Well as of right now I am the only person in the entire United States that has this plant.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Well I have the seeds. I just recently planted them. So it will be a while before harvest time. But once it's ready I'm going to sell it to this Mexican guy for one hundred grand.”

“Why so much money?”

“Because it's the last, the very last of this plant. This type of plant is practically extinct according to the Mexican fellow. He says all the farms in Mexico were burnt down. I happened to be in the right place at the right time and now I'm going to be rich!”

“I can't believe it, man. Holy s**t!”

“I know, I know.”

“If I was in your position I would leave this s****y town.”

“Leave? But this is my home. This is where all my allies are, man. My business is here. If I move away who am I going to sell this weed to?”

“Lucas, you won't have to sell any weed for a long time. You'll have a hundred f*****g grand.”

Lucas pondered on this thought for a second and then slipped off his flip flops, one of them falling into the pool. “You have a point there.” I watched the sandal waft down to the bottom of the pool and settle in a pile of leaves.

I pulled out a joint and lit it. The smoke floated over to Lucas who sat slouched in his chair and he smiled. “You said if I accept what you told me as truth, things will go smoothly in my life. What did you mean by that?” 

Lucas grabbed the joint out of my hand and sucked on it and his face screwed up comically and smoke issued out of his nostrils and he managed to say, “Well, I want you to help me grow. I have a surplus of these demonic seeds and I want you to plant some.”

I took the joint back and puffed until my eyes went numb and my brain felt hollow.

“You want me to plant some of these seeds, huh? Now where the hell would I plant them? Where the f**k would I grow a field of cannabis plants?”

Lucas sat up in his chair and he looked at me with an expression so serious I had to smile. 

“Steven, man. Just plant two or three of them in your back yard. Care for them for a few months and bam wham ka-jam we're rich.”

“What I don't understand is why you can't just sell the seeds to this Mexican fellow.”

“I tried to tell him that, but he didn't wanna go for it.”

Smoke clouded around us and a car honked off in the distance. A dog barked. A cool breeze flew by and ruffled my hair. I looked at Lucas and his face looked deep in thought. The wind ruffled his scotch taped hair.

“So you want me to grow some plants in my back yard.”

“That's what I'm telling you. I'd do it all here but I can legally only have about five growing. I plan on having about triple that.”

“Triple? So like fifteen?”

“About.”

“Well, s**t.”

“Once we're paid, you get fifty grand, I get fifty grand. Half and half. Just like f*****g coffee.”

I laughed and stared into the water. It was getting cold and I crossed my legs to warm my balls. 

“S**t. Alright, man. I'm in.”

“Excellent. Hold on, I'll go get the sack.”

Lucas jumped up and ran into his house. I breathed deeply and thought about everything Lucas told me. I closed my eyes and drifted somewhere else. I remembered the paper in my pocket and took it out and read Ericka's beautiful handwriting. I smiled. Paul Rudd, the f*****g iguana that bit me, walks by my foot and dives into the pool.

I hear the patio door creak open and look behind me and Opus comes out of the house followed by Lucas. Opus had a ragged brown sack in his hand and was completely nude. Lucas put a black pea coat on and he looked like a Rastafarian sailor. 

Opus dropped the bag in my lap and jumped in the pool screaming.

“What the f**k? Is he f*****g crazy? It's forty degrees outside and that pools gotta be twenty.”

“It's a Zimbabwean thing.”

“Well that's just f*****g weird. Where did this guy come from, Lucas?”

“I met him at a gas station in Fresno about a month ago. He had a backpack filled with cannabis. Filled. I don't know where he got it but he hopped in the Prius and we took off. He's been living here ever since. He's pretty cool. He can hypnotize Paul Rudd.”

Opus splashes out of the pool holding the lizard by the tail, and hes screaming and laughing at us and Lucas is laughing and I'm sitting in the chair staring into the pool thinking about fifty thousand dollars. The lizard falls to the ground, slaps on the concrete and runs off, tailless and humiliated. Opus yells something at the lizard, its tail in his hand and then he puts it in his mouth screaming.

I say, “You're not supposed to hold a lizard by its tail, Opus.”

Lucas is laughing but hes not aware of what just happened to his lizard; hes sucking on a cigarette, and looking at his phone. I look at the sack of seeds in my lap and untie the string.

“Do I need all of these seeds?”

Lucas looks up from his phone and says, “No, I'm gonna give you half of that sack and we'll get this s**t started.”

Opus shouted something in what sounded German, and he ran in the house dripping nude, invisible in the dark.

“What the hell is his deal?”

“Oh he's on LSD.”

“Well that makes sense.”

“Well, I have to go tend to Opus. He killed some cow on the side of the freeway today with a f*****g bow and arrow. We need to go get it salted. It's in the garage, wanna see it?”

“No thanks, I better get going.”

“Hold on,” Lucas went into the house and yelled something at Opus and came back out with a plastic bag. “Gimme that sack.”

I handed it to him and he poured half of it into the zip-lock. Hundreds of little dark pellets. He gave me the bag. “Don't lose that bag, man.”

“Of course not. I need this bag as much as you need me to need it. You know?”

“Right. Goodnight, Mr. G.”

“See you later, Luke.”

I got in the car and left.