With a Little Help from My Friends

I haven’t seen Emily since I spent the night at her place. I couldn’t even stay for the delicious looking breakfast Declan made. I felt guilty. Emmy was giving me an icy glare that left me with freezer burn. So I stayed away from her. It is something I am good at, I guess. And this town is big. Big enough for me to never pass by her on the streets.

And that saddens me. Why? Because I miss that girl. I have been away from her for so long that I forgot what it was like to be around her. Who doesn’t love being around a weird kid? Sure, she can put you on edge because half the time you have no clue what the fuck she is talking about. Like one time in high school I was talking to her about how cool it’d be to be in two places at once and then she rattled on about space and time and continuum.

And I miss that.

Being around Em is like being around a more tolerable version of Brendon. The boy is cool. He is a fucking sweetheart. But sometimes he can be too much. His sweetness and goofiness will give you a cavity. Like, I love my friends. I would have their back at any given second even though they can be complete douche bags. Ryan is a lyrical genius. He knows music’s backbone and can makes its toes curl. Spencer is quiet and misunderstood. I have tried to be there for him but he only wants Ryan to be there for him. It is obvious. He pulls away from me and Brendon.

Why the hell am I even thinking about these guys? What is going on with my mind? The point of a break in touring is to forget about everyone I surrounded myself with. It is, after all, a break. It is something we all needed from each other. A well deserved break.

I need friends.
--
Dylan stares at me. His tails swishes sided to side and knocks my mail off the table. “Dude, check yourself before you wreck yourself.” I lean out of my chair to pick up the envelopes in one sweep. Dylan just stares at me. His green eyes seem to glow with a malicious intent. His fur was soft to the touch. My hands shove him off the table. The cat cried and scampered off. “That is what you get for looking like an evil bastard, Dyl!” The cat hides under the couch.

I turn my attention away from the cat and stare out my kitchen window. The view is shit. It is of the brick building next door to the apartment building I live in. A shit view of red brick. My spoon plunges into my bowl of Apple Jacks and Captain Crunch. Relaxing on an average day. This is something touring never had. A boy couldn’t lounge comfortably in his boxers while eating cereal. If this was touring I would have the other guys also in the room. Someone would be bitching at me for the stench of my feet. They would spritz me with some air freshener so they could enjoy their breakfast without it being spoiled by my stink.

There is something else I haven’t been able to do on tour, smoke some Chicago chronic. The weed in Chicago is different from the weed I smoked on tour. Most of the shit I smoked was fucking whack. Chi-town chronic makes everything melt away. Stupid Spencer should smoke more weed. The kid would be a lot less strung out.

My old drug dealer lives an elderly neighborhood over by my mom’s house. I take a quick shower, get dressed, and then head out the door. I haven’t seen the guy in awhile. I wonder if anything has changed with him…

My old drug dealer is a guy I knew in high school, the school I went to with Emily. He has been a mess since I met him. The guy is a paranoid freak. He holds onto conspiracy theories like they were part of the Holy Bible. He is so paranoid that he has his girlfriend go out of the house for him to pick up things. He hasn’t left his grandmother’s house since he graduated high school. I am actually surprised that he graduated even though he skipped class practically every day.

He has been with the same girl since he was thirteen. His girl is the one for him. I never understood how a guy could date the same girl for that long. Over ten years, I think, they have been together. That is too goddamn long. I wish I could do that. Girls go crazy, though, Wires snap in their brains. Emily, case and point. My drug dealer found the only girl a little less psycho.

I turn down an old person’s neighborhood to where he lives. I parked at my mother’s house because my drug dealer, Lucas, would punch me if I parked near his house; “Cops, man. They have this place under surveillance. I know it.” Lucas Lee went to high school with me and Emily. He and his girlfriend, Sasha, were in the same grade as me and Ems. They were kind of a mirror of me and Emily, before I left at least, except they were an actual couple. They kept to themselves much like Emily and me. During lunch you could find Sasha resting against a tree with Lucas Lee lying down with his head on her lap. They didn’t speak much to other people. He sold weed, she sold bongs she made in ceramics class. Sasha was brilliant at it. The girl could throw a bubbler in no time at all. Emily went with me a few times in high school to Lucas’s place. She got along with Sasha.

Lucas inherited his grandma’s house after she died. He was eighteen at the time. The timing was impeccable. The old German grandmother raised him on her own. He lost his parents when he was really young. The house looks like a cottage. His grandmother had it replicated to look like the home she used to live in in Germany.

I hope he still lives in this cottage home. I doubt he’d ever move away. He thinks that his grandma’s ghost still inhabits the house. They smoke her ashes with some weed every year on her birthday. Sasha and Lucas swear they see her every time.

My knuckles knock softly against the door. Two people speak in low tones to each other.

“Babe, do you have any customers today?”

“Not until after lunch. Matt was going to pick up. He is always late, though.”

“Do you think he’d come early?”

“I don’t know. Can you get it, babe?”

“Of course.” Sasha steps toward the door. The shoes she is wearing clicks against the floor. The door cracks as it opens. For a split second she is expressionless. Then she smiles brightly at me. “Hey Luca,” she calls over her shoulder, “you are going to want to see your visitor.” She tucks a loose strand of jet black hair behind her ear.

It has been a year, probably more, since I have been able to buy from Lucas. From touring to recording music, I haven’t been in Chicago for a while.

Lucas pops his head from behind a wall. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Famous Musician himself.” Lucas walks over to me. An apron was wrapped around his thin frame. His girl has a womanly shape. She has an ass and breasts. But Lucas is practically a stick. His dirty blonde hair is bobby pinned out of his face otherwise he’d look like a shaggy dog. His arms extend in front of him. We hug each other. “Dude, come in. And close the door, Jon. You know, man. Fucking cops,” he waves his arms around. Like Big Brother is watching his every second, he is paranoid. Classic Lucas Lee. But he does have a reason to be this paranoid. He grows chronic in his basement. “So, what brings you Stale Ale, man?”

I plop down on his grandma’s Victorian couch. The place looks like she could still be alive. “To see your gorgeous face, man. I can’t survive without your sweet love, oh baby don't leave me this way,” I start to sing to him.

“Oh, shut up!” He heartily laughs. “Shut it with music.” Sasha slinks into the kitchen and he follows. “Sasha-cat and I were just making some breakfast for lunch. You are welcome to join us.”

I look at their backs. They were both tending to food on the stove. Sasha was flipping a pancake while Lucas turned over sausage links. “Naw. I don’t want to intrude on you and your beloved’s lunch.”

Sasha leans from behind Lucas and casts me a look. “Come on, Jon. You are like the closest thing to a brother I have. Eat with us.”

And with that I was suckered in. Next thing I know I am sitting at the dining table with a plate of sausages, hash browns, and Mickey Mouse pancakes in front of me. Sasha saunters over to the table with a 60s orange glass pitcher in her hands. Orange juice splashes into my empty Archie jar. Emily would love this glass. Archie and Friends was a comic she’d pick up every time we went to the Quick Mart.

Lucas pulls Sasha onto his lap. She sits there contently. They both pick from the same plate. “So Jon-jon,” Sasha says as she pours maple syrup over their pancakes, “how long are you going to be in Chi-town before you tour again?”

Pancakes fill the space in between my cheeks. I chug some orange juice to free myself from the carbiscide. OJ and spongy pancake bits slosh down to my stomach. I cough and OJ spills down the side of my mouth. Lucas Lee smirks at me and hands me a napkin. I wipe my face clean. “I am not sure how long. Probably a month or a little more.” The thought mulls around in my head. “Fuck, probably a lot longer. We are all getting sick of each other on tour.” I laugh at myself. “Like, we have been around each other for too long. We need a divorce from each other. Like, how do you two do it? You guys have been dating since the 8th grade.”

They exchange glances. “We are freaks of nature, Jon.” Lucas says as he reaches around Sasha for hash browns. “Don’t compare yourself to us. We are…”

“Out of this galaxy,” Sasha says in this eerie tone. A forkful of hash browns is shoved into her mouth by Lucas. She chokes on them and elbows him in the ribs. He laughs and gives her a weak hug.

“But seriously Jon. This girl and I aren’t normal. We are the exception. The anomaly to regular life. What are the chances that you’d find your soul mate in middle school?”

I scratch my chin. “Fine, whatever Lucas Lee. I guess you are right.” I stab a sausage link a few times. “Hey, do you guys remember that girl I used to bring over during high school?”

Sasha’s head cocks to the side. “You can’t possibly be talking about that sweetheart, Silver.” She freezes and closes her eyes in concentration. “Sorry, um…I mean, ummmm, Emily.” Her loose curls shake as she lightly shakes her head. I give her a blank look. “What? It is a nickname. She was Silver Surfer and I was Gambit.”

A lopsided grin is on my face. “Lucas Lee! I didn’t know your girl was a total nerd like Emily!”

“OH SHUT UP!” She hollers at me with a big grin on her face. “You know no one is as nerdy as Silver. Anyway, what about her?”

I rip up an ear of my Mickey Mouse pancake. “I haven’t seen her in years. I hung out with her recently. She…” I stumbled on my words. What did I even want to say? I could say anything in front of these two. They listen and don’t make me feel bad for talking about my problems. “She… Ems… She makes me feel like shit when I am around her. I feel guilty that I moved away from her. Like maybe it is my fault that she is stunted or whatever.”

Lucas rubs Sasha’s back. “Jon, don’t feel like shit. Your girl has a mental disorder.”

“She isn’t my girl and that is mean, Lucas Lee. She is normal. A little quirky, but fine.”

Sasha glares at her boyfriend. He ignores it and pushes her face away to massage her back and shoulders. The look she casted read, ‘Don’t’. “Nevermind,” Lucas mumbles.

My fork clatters on the plate as it slipped out of my hand. “No, wait. I want to hear this. Are you and Gambit keeping secrets from me? Emily was my best friend first. Tell me.”

The couple silently talks to each other through some ESP shit. Lucas wipes a hand over his face. “Like a few years ago, like 7?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Sasha says with her eyes closed and body half bent over the table. She had her head tilted to the side resting on the table.

Lucas’s eyes were concentrated on his girlfriend’s back. “Yeah, so, Sash and I were here chilling. It was Sasha’s birthday. Every year since Sasha and Emily met there’d be a cupcake in a Tupperware dish sitting on the doorstep.”

“That year there was one as usual.”

“But Emily taped a card to the Tupperware dish this time. It is framed in the hall. It said, ‘Happy Birthday, Gambit. I heart you and Lucas Lee. By the way I was diagnosed with schizophrenia.” That didn’t make sense. Emily is eccentric, but she is normal. If she wasn’t than I should have known. Why didn’t I know?

The whole time I was processing this Sasha was staring at me. Her inquisitive eyes flicker with concern. “Jonboy, are you--”

“Thanks for breakfast. I…” I turn away from them and look at the floor. It was spinning. My hands wipe at my clammy face. “I’ve got to go.” My body popped out of my chair. With each step I staggered because the floor appeared to be farther away than it was.

“Wait, Jon! You forgot something.” Lucas catches up with me at the front door. A Ziploc bag of weed is pressed into my chest. I can’t believe I forgot what I came for. I fumbled with my wallet. “Fuck it, Jon. It’s on the house accounting for this little bomb I just dropped on you.” He pulls my jacket tighter around my body as he suspiciously looks behind me for cops.

“Thanks, Lucas Lee.”

“No problem, Jonboy.” I turn around to walk through his jungle of a front yard. “Hey man, the babe and I love you.”

The gate squeaks open. “I love you two, too.”

Why was I acting weird? It is just Emily Parker. The girl always thought something was wrong with her. Why didn’t I get a birthday card with that message? Do people not trust me? Why the fuck aren’t people brutally honest to me? I am a tough dude. People don’t have to spare my feelings. Like Spencer. I knew that kid was upset and going through shit. I probably upset him even more by pressuring him to chill out and have fun. Why didn’t he ever tell me to fuck off? Why did the kid constantly lie through his teeth?

‘I am fine.’ ‘This is fun. ‘Jon, you are cool.’

I tuck the sack of weed into my front pocket and walk away from Lucas’s house. Spencer should have just told me what was on his mind. Be my Lucas Lee and tell the truth, no bullshit.
--
Lucas Lee has been a drug dealer since high school. At first he peddled prescription pills. They belonged to his grandma. She was the one who suggested it. Half of the profits went to her for Bingo night. The woman was a major hippie, laid back and cool as beans. The grandma was the one that taught Lucas how to grow weed. Lucas’s most popular weed is Blue Rain. It is named after his grandmother. She had blue frizzy hair. She taught him how to cross plants and create new strings of weed. Another popular weed is Ptitsa which is named after his lovely girlfriend Sasha Gonchar. She is half Russian and was born there. I like Ptitsa more than Blue Rain. It has a sweet taste to it that makes you think of candy and desserts.

Lucas has been a wanted criminal for years. It is hard for the police to track him down since he never leaves the house. Only Sasha leaves the house for work (she is an art teacher at an elementary school). People come into the Gonchar-Lee home all the time, but not enough to cause suspicion. The cops have tried to get a warrant but have been denied. The judge is a client of Lucas’s. Sasha delivers it so the judge isn’t traced back to Lucas. The cops are after him because his weed pops up the most often. He is the only that grows and distributes his weed. No other drug dealers can replicate his weed. It is good weed. Fuck, it is the best out there.

Why haven’t his clients who have been arrested given up his name instead of doing a year or so? Because Lucas treats his clients like family. And it is only weed. Like fucking seriously. He isn’t Walt from Breaking Bad and cooking crystal meth.

The cops won’t arrest Lucas Lee. He is only a pot dealer. It looks worse for his girl, anyway. She is an innocent art teacher with a long term boyfriend. Her parents are a rocket scientist and a college professor. Sasha has a great background. I still don’t understand how she became the girl that sat under a tree with a drug dealer’s head on her lap.

They are completely in love. I want someone to feel that with. I probably shouldn’t worry about that right now. I really need to sort myself out first.