Read Online Finding Alice by Melody Carlson - Free Book Online Page B

threadbare cords. He expertly twists the ends, then holds it up in triumph. He grins, and I am suddenly reminded of the smoking caterpillar in the Alice book, the one who wanted to give her “advice.” Brent pulls out a cheap plastic lighter, and puckering up his face with an almost religious intensity, he ignites his precious reefer. Then his eyes flutter closed, and his face relaxes as he slowlyinhales. I watch in fascination as he holds in the smoke, his eyebrows lifting as if he’s about to enter a new dimension. Then slowly he exhales, opens his eyes, and holds out the joint.
    “Want a puff?”
    Now I wonder what effect weed might have if it “interacts with” my “prescribed” drug. At the moment I can’t remember the specific warnings that were written in the fine black print. Perhaps it would simply counteract the loathsome pills and completely nullify their effect. And that possibility intrigues me. I am so weary of this dulling sensation. My mind is wrapped in a thick fuzzy blanket, slightly dazed and horribly flat-lined. I know that grass is some sort of hallucinogenic. I remember at least that much from high school health. But I’ve never actually tried it before. And during my BC life, I never would’ve considered it at all. But since everything else about my life seems to be messed up and upside down or sideways, I wonder, Well, why not try something new?
    “Sure.” I hold out my hand. “I’ll try a puff.”
    He hands it over. “Cool.”
    I imitate him by taking a long, slow drag and hold it in until I finally begin to sputter and cough. I have quite a coughing jag with real tears coming out of my eyes, and I feel rather foolish. But at the same time I feel sort of good, too. It may be an illusion, but it seems this act of defiance has given me a morsel of control again. I wipe my nose on my sleeve, then hand the joint back to him.
    Brent is laughing now. “That your first puff?”
    I nod as I wipe the sides of my eyes and finally manage to sputter, “But it was”— cough, cough —“okay, you know?”
    “I know.” He takes another slow drag, and I watch as the embers on the end burn bright red. Then he hands it back to me. “Go easy this time.”
    So, taking it more slowly, I inhale a smaller puff and manage not to make such a fool of myself this time. I hand it back to him feeling pretty cool. “Thanks,” I say as I exhale.
    “So what’re ya doing back home? Thought both you high-performance Laxton kids were in college.” He rolls his eyes dramatically. “My mom’s always going on about how the neighbor kids got it so together—you about to graduate and Aaron with his scholarship. Man, it makes me wanna puke.” He hands me back the joint, and I take another drag.
    “Well, if it makes you feel any better,”—I start to giggle now—“I’ve just been diagnosed with schizophrenia .” For some reason just saying the word out loud, to someone as whacked out as Brent, totally cracks me up.
    Apparently he thinks it’s pretty funny too. “You’re kidding me? Schizophrenia? Sweet little Alice, the good little church girl next door, is a nut case. Cool! ”
    “Yeah, now I can get my drugs prescribed to me.” I extract the little pill from my pocket and hold it up. It’s slightly disfigured and gray from being in my pocket. “But today I didn’t take it.”
    “Cool. You can get high with me instead.”
    I take another drag and nod. “Yeah, let’s get high.”
    “Got any more of those?” He points to my lap.
    “These?” I hold up my half-eaten bunch of grapes as if they’re a trophy. “These happen to grow right here in our very own backyard.”
    “No kidding. Can I have some?”
    “Sure.” I wave my hand in a most congenial fashion. “Come on over. We’ll have ourselves a grapefest.”
    So, like little kids, we sit down under the grapevine and proceed to gorge ourselves with Concord grapes, spitting the slimy seeds at each other until we both look like targets