The Southside of Paradise.

Chapter 2 - Squinting at the Horizon

An hour later, Dean and I were high as kites. We were sitting at the dining table in the dining room. The table sat before a north facing window and there was a lot of light. Neither one of us had steady jobs. Dean was technically doing work study trying to make up for the mess at the end of his last semester.  He got in an argument with a math teacher and didn't go back for a couple of weeks.

I had dropped out of junior college and was trying to make up my mind about going back or going to work. I was getting too high all of the time and things were starting to blur. It was the tenor of the times, it wasn't like I was out of whack or nothing. A lot of my friends were going to college, but they were all getting high too.  When I started high school, the dopers were thugs and easily identified by their leather jackets, and their I don't give a flying fuck looks. Everyone avoided them as much as possible.  By the time I got out of high school, it was the straight kids who were being avoided.

                   Ostensibly, Dean and I were playing cards but were paying just enough attention to keep the game going. What we were really doing was passing a joint back and forth and killing time. I was still anxious about facing down Jill's dad and was trying to take my mind off of it.

                    " Ya know who annoys me?" Dean asked. He took a deep hit and then knocked the ash off in the ashtray.
                   
                       "Your gonna have to narrow the scope some cause it seems to me that most of the people in this town annoy you somewhat." I beckoned for the joint.

                        " Well, I clear it up some for you. Ya boy Billy Gillespie annoys my ass no end."

                         I choked and started coughing. It took a minute before I could answer, "Billy G? He's one of us; how does he annoy you?"

                         " He a damned fool. Every time he get high, he starts talking about imagining if he had a whole field of pot plants. He widens his arms to assist my imagination. Then he sits back with that dumb ass grin a his like he's was Buddha tryna save the heathen."

                             I knew what he was talking about. That shit annoyed me too, but I didn't let on, " Boy can't help if he dumb. He need to read something every now and then to put something up in that big head of his."

                              "So now we gonna talk about big heads? Boy, yo head's so big you could walk around it and get lost.

                                  I flipped him off after throwing down my hand.
 
                                  He went on, " So, what he dumb? That don't give him no kinda right talking that shit and grinnin that stupid grin. One these days, I'm gonna smash a beer can on his head. I'm gonna stand right in front of him bent over at waist and scream, you know with flecks of spit and stuff, 'NO, BILLY, I DON'T WANT TO IMAGINE A FIELD OF POT PLANTS YOU FUCKNG DUMBASS!"

                                  I had to laugh at that, " Now, what good would that do? He ain't a bad dude really. If one of them jokers on the north side of town started trouble with you, you know he'd climb over your back to get at em."

                                   Dean shook his head, " I do know that. It's just that." He paused a bit to find the words, "I know when we get together talking and shit,  it ain't exactly like the Agoura of Athens or nuthin, but I would like sometimes to raise the level of discourse."

                                     When he looked at me, I made a point of having dropped the joint on the table and my chin was on the floor. I stared blankly back at him.

                                     Dean took it for a bit, then grinned, "Fuck you, you big headed dummy"

                                    I just laughed. "Hey, you want talk smart stuff what do you think about this?"

                                    "Shoot."
               
                                  "I read bout where this guy is commenting on whether Cyrano De Bergerac is a literary hero or not."

                                    "The guy with the big nose."

                                    I nodded.

                                    "Yeah, he a hero. That dude was a bad muthafuker."

                                    "Guy said he wasn't much of a hero because he never told the girl."

                                     He grinned again, "You want to know what I think?"

                                     " I wouldn't of asked."

                                 " I think you think your gonna save Jill Booth from that big ass knuckle head Micky Porcine. You think she's got something in her that makes her worth saving, and you just the guy to do it."
               
                                   " I know she's worth saving. She's being pressured by that dickhead Clark and her mother to fit into that society. She feels chained down and unable to push back on them. That's why she always down here getting involved with guys like us."

                                 " Then ya  better grow a bigger assed nose and practice ya sword fighting skills. And you betta not change, muthafuker! You betta not change. I'll creep in ya room at night while ya sleeping, and I'll choke you out with your own pillow." 
   
                                         "You rather I get a broken heart?" I looked at him and he smiled that same sad ass grin as before. I picked up the cards and  started shuffling.

                                       " She is a purty thang, I'll grant you that. How you gonna like having a girl friend that all your friends'll wanna sleep with?"

                                       "It won't be just my friends. It'll be pretty much every Goddamn guy she come in contact with. I owe it to myself to try."

                                       "Well, don't say I din't warn ya! But I'll be there with ya when Micky and his boys come calling on ya."

                                       We didn't have long to wait on that for just as I took a swig of beer and started to dealing out the cards, Mickey Porcine and two of his  buddies pulled into my driveway. Dean jumped up and ran to the window. I casually rose from the table and went and got the .22 from under my bed.