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Trip by mooangus
April 9, 2009, 5:20 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

It was one of those Friday nights. Paul was standing in the curb, a smoky cigarette in his  hand. He wanted to cross the street, instead he took the envelope out of his jacket pocket. He studied it and put it back from where it came. “Balderdash” he said, as he tossed away the half smoked cigarette and took out a box of Nacional cigarettes.

Inside the box of Nacional, there was a smaller envelope; he studied it and put it back. He stuck both hands down his pockets. He lifted his foot half-an-inch off the ground. He crossed the empty street, looking straight ahead. He rang Kenny’s doorbell once. Just once.The doorbell rang a nostalgic sound. It reminded Paul of a minute earlier when he studied the smaller envelope.

“Come on… answer the door…” he thought.

Kenny was not home, his dog started puking marbles, so he rushed to the nearest convenience store, bought himself a six pack, a lottery ticket and some random newspapers. As he was halfway across the neighborhood, he noticed some Middle Eastern dude following him. Kenny knew that he couldn’t outrun anyone while holding random newspapers.

He started power walking, while he yanked the dogs leash. The dog puked another marble, he stopped to pick it up and the newspapers fell. He looked back and the guy was getting closer.

“This is the end” he thought.

Somebody tapped him from the other side, he got tangled in the leash and fell. The Middle Eastern dude was now looming on top of him. Kenny could only pant, he scratched the pavement with his nails, sweat beads covered his forehead. The Middle Eastern dude stretched his arm, fist tightly closed.

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“You forgot to pay for those random newspapers! You think those are Diario Libre? Those are El Nacional. Now pay.” the Middle Eastern dude claimed.

Kenny was speechless.

Paul was the one who tapped him. He handed the man a 10 dollar bill and said, “Sorry, he is having some trouble at home.” Then he helped Kenny up.

“What the fuck is happening to you and your dog, he just puked two marbles” Paul said.

“I dunno, man, He just–he just started doing that a couple of hours ago” said Kenny, as he got himself off the ground.

“Were you… smoking Nacional?” asked Kenny.

“You’re welcome,” Paul said sarcastically, “wanna hit the bar? I have some things to talk with you, but first we should figure out what to do with your dog.”

“I’m just gonna take him home.”

“But what if he keeps doing it?”

“He can’t do it forever.”

“True.”

And at the moment, the dog whimpered.

The dog vomited again. No marbles, only bubbly water. And then, marbles. Marbles everywhere. Well not everywhere, the dog only puked about a dozen marbles.

“Whoa, Kenny, your dog is about to die, how about we put him out of misery, it’s not even your dog” Paul said.

Kenny looked at the dog. It looked back at him. Paul bent over, he took a couple of marbles. One by one, he took them between the tip of his left index finger and thumb, and placed them carefully in the palm of his right hand. They stayed there static. He moved his hand ever so slightly, but the marbles refused to move.

“I don’t think these are marbles. I don’t even think they’re real.” Paul said bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“This must be what Balderdash wanted to talk to us about.”

Kenny stared at Paul. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Kenny winced. Annoyance took over him, he felt uncomfortable and a chill ran down his spine. He violently bent over and in a swift movement grabbed the dog’s leash. “Fuck that, man.”

They walked back to Kenny’s apartment. Kenny opened the door. He must’ve left the door unlocked. The place was filled with pottery brimful of marbles. Fish tank filled with marbles, glasses with marbles.

Paul mesmerized, slowly took out both envelopes, moved some marbles off the table, and placed the envelopes and said “Earlier today, I bought a newspaper and a pack of cigarettes, both of them had envelopes inside from Mr. Balderdash, I was waiting to meet to you, so we could open them together, but before we open them, I believe we should promise each other, that the content of this envelope won’t change–”

“No” grunted Kenny, “I don’t think I can do this. I’m not doing it. Yeah. I’m done.” He turned his back on Paul and walked into the kitchen. “Want anything to drink?” Kenny asked cordially.

“Don’t cower now!” Paul opened the bigger envelope and took out its content. A lime green-colored piece of paper, scented with the freshest of ‘herbs’. “Don’t you want to learn? Don’t  you want to know the truth?”

Kenny stared at his glass as he poured his and Paulʼs scotch.  He sighed “Go ahead, read it.” Paul held the piece of paper with both hands. He glared. Kenny looked at Paul, frozen.

“What does it say?” Kenny finally asked.

Paul looked up at him, his mouth wide open. “Well?” insisted Kenny. Paul extended his right hand, he handed the piece of paper to Kenny. Kenny just looked at it.

Kenny looked up at Paul, “It says, take what is in the smaller envelope.” As Kenny said that, Paul was already opening the smaller envelope. Hearts beat like buttocks getting smacked by carnival’s Diablo Cojuelos. Paul takes out smaller pink  and blue pieces of paper he notices that they are LSD, there is note inside that reads: “blue is for Paul; pink is for Kenny”

The papers with smiley faces on them, and a note that says “trip” .

.  .  .

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