The
sun was absolutely brilliant today. So brilliant, it streamed through
the two-inch thick carpet of grass that made up the refuge and home
for one of natures little workers. The breeze off the coast filtered
through in wafts, cooling other occupants scattered amongst the
grass.
A
diminutive figure slithered out of the lawn and onto the concrete
mass of the path. His slow, inexorably measured progress clearly
marked by the trail of slime that emanated from his shelled body.
Derek was in no particular hurry this day. He had seen the humans
disappear in their conveyance, noted the pesky feline disappear over
the fence, and had determined that any threat-predators to his safety
were snoozing it off in the midday sun. He had determined now was the
time to make a dash to the other side of the path, to the sanctuary
of the garden hither. He had been watching carefully from his
retracted home for some time, the thought of that lovely lettuce too
much of a temptation to ignore. There it stood before him now, a
bright iridescent green in the midday sun, leaves softly brushed by
the breeze. And not a sign of any bite marks or indications other
species had spotted his prize.
"Hey,
snail, where the hell are you going, not like you to be out in the
midday sun."
Derek
turned in startled horror, terrified that he had been discovered, and
immediately dove back into his home for fear of being consumed by
some great predator.
"Hey,
what you doing snail? I ain't gonna eat ya."
"Ummm,
how do I know that is true?" asked Derek, peering out from under
his shell. He saw a number of brown encrusted legs approaching him, a
large number of them in fact, marching in perfect unison, just like
those crossed hammers he had spied one night, when he had been
slithering on a window on the humans shell.
"Because
snail, I know where you are going and what you are going there for,
but I have a better offer for you and I thought you might like to
share it with me?" replied the pesky centipede. "By the
way, my name is Stryder and yours is…."
"Derek,"
volunteered the snail, "and how do I know that you don't mean to
eat me when I come out of my shell? I know your kind, I've seen the
evidence of your carnivorous intents before!"
"Oh,
come now, I'll be honest with you, I found this plant in that garden
you're heading for and I want to see what you think. I had a feed of
it the other day, and I didn't come to until this morning. Really
weird!"
"So
what has that got to do with me then, you know I only eat leafy
vegetables. Is it a leafy plant or something else?" asked Derek,
now somewhat bemused by this turn of events.
"Well,"
started Stryder, " it has these rather funny leaves on it, and
it gives off a bit of an odour, but since I hadn't seen it around
before I decided it must be alright to eat, as it was with all the
other delicacies. I didn't count on the after effects though, and
still can't explain it."
Derek
noted the confused look on the centipede's face, and decided then
that this creature was indeed confused about something, and
apparently no immediate threat to his survival. He slithered out of
his shell and raised his bulbous torso fully erect to display his
full size to the centipede, who now shrunk before him.
"Come
on then, show me what you have found, but don't rush too quickly,
remember I'm only a snail and not one of your flighty fillies."
Derek turned in the general direction of the garden, keeping one eye
on his intended path, and the other firmly fixed on the centipede.
"Hey
Roy, they gone, bro, fucken A1, Man."
"Whada
fuck you talking 'bout, bro?
The
two figures peered over the fence now, both looking at the neighbours
yard, noting the disappearance of the occupants next door. No
movement in the house, from the garden, or the yard, and the garage
door wide open and the Mercury not in its secure stowage.
"
Hey, Dickface, how long they bin gawn for, man?' asked Roy.
"Aw,
bout five minutes, bro."
"Ah,
shit man, better give it another five, jus' in case they forgot
somink. Get me another JD's shithead."
The
two bikers refilled their glasses and sat down to wait out the time
they had decided on. The sun really was hot and the shade offered by
the veranda only served to keep the light out. It was still screaming
hot!
"Hey,
Roy, flick another CD on bro, bit of Dave Floyd eh, and turn the
sound right up! No one home to piss us off next door, eh!"
Marcel ripped off a peel of ranting laughter, and vented a vociferous
belch just for good measure.
Roy,
ever the dutiful younger brother, did as he was bid, and the Delicate
Sounds of Thunder peeled off into the atmosphere at full volume.
****************************
"Whadya
think, then snail, weird eh?" Stryder stood on his back 30 legs
proudly holding the stem of the plant he stood at in his other 34
legs.
Derek
surveyed the tall specimen of greenery, noting the unusual placement
of the leaves, and the even more peculiar shape of its leaves. This
Stryder was right, this was a new one, and weird to boot, but those
leaves sure looked inviting.
"What
do you think it is?" ventured the snail to the centipede, "some
sort of creeper or herb perhaps?"
"I
don't really know there snail, but it is sure as heck different. I
thought you might know, seeing how you are the supposed expert on
these matters!"
"Mmm,
and you said you didn't remember what had happened to you for two
days, yet there are no other side affects, right?" Derek looked
quizzically at the centipede, trying to discern a trap, but saw only
bemused disbelief at his own ignorance of what had happened. This
Stryder, he surmised, was on the level.
"Look,
I'll tell you what I'll do" said Stryder to Derek, " I'll
climb up there and cut all the leaves down, and we'll try some out
down here and see what you think, eh?"
"
Yeah, good idea," thought Derek, "at least it would save me
having to slither all the way up there and back again, and if what
you say is true, I might not have a memory when I come down, and it
would be better to try it on level ground, you reckon?"
"No
problems, there, on me way."
Stryder
scampered up the bush and in a matter of half a minute, had de-leafed
the whole thing, the leaves dropping to the ground in a neat pile
around the stem, and to Derek's relief, right in front of him. He
watched the centipede return to the ground and they approached the
feast before them. He noticed the smell, sort of pungent, but not too
overpowering. The green of the leaves not as bright as his favourite
lettuce but nonetheless inviting.
"You
first," motioned Stryder, and the snail begun tucking into his
gift from his new friend.
*******************************
"Come
on man, we gotta hurry, the fucken idjuts next door'll be back soon.
And we gotta get some of that pot man. I'm busting for some fresh
'erb!"
They
ran as fast as they could, scrambled over the five foot boundary
fence and raced for the vegetable garden, not entirely aware of the
noise they were making, nor the destruction they created on their
flight from the fence to the garden. The overriding need to get the
pot consumed their every thought, and stifled their need to be
undiscovered. Hell, it didn't matter anyway, they were the only
potheads around these parts anyway, and they wouldn't get killed over
one tiny plant, that's for sure.
Roy
arrived at the plant first.
"Hey,
fuck, man look at this, all the leaves have fallen off it. Fucken
weird man."
Roy
stood transfixed by the vagueness of it all as his brother sauntered
up to him.
"Wadda
fuck, man that's a blast. Hey, hurry, scoop 'em all up and we'll take
'em all back. Shit I only wanted a leaf or two, but what the hell,
eh!"
Roy
bent down and scooped up all the leaves on the ground, palming them
in his hand and placing them roughly in his pocket. They then turned
and darted back to the fence, scrambled back over it and raced to the
security of the veranda again.
"Fuck
it's hot man, lets snort another JD's or two before we flash it up
man." Marcel was exhausted from the sudden unexpected exercise,
and the need to catch his breath and cool off a bit overrode any
desire to hit up immediately. He headed off inside to get the
required booze, whilst Roy sat wheezing on the veranda, unconsciously
rolling the leaf into a big long cigar shape in his pocket.
*****************************
Derek
was frightened, very frightened. One minute he and Stryder were
quietly munching on the first leaf, and the next, they're being
scooped up into a bunch of leaves and bundled into a dark space. The
sudden interloping action had caused the cautiously frightened snail
into his obligatory shell, and there he now remained, as he was
rolled over and over. The pressure on his shell was immense, almost
crushing it, but the leaf was acting as a cushion, softening the
affect of the danger. Of Stryder, he had no clue where he was. For
all he knew, the centipede was dead.
But
one thing he couldn't escape, and that was the affect the leaf was
having on his mind. Man if he, a snail had wings, right now he would
be flying. Even with the danger of death around him, he felt really
good. Wow.
*******************************
Roy
took four sheets of Rizzla papers from his packet, licked two
together and joined them, and then licked another two together, and
joined the two amalgamated pieces together to make one large long
sheet of wrapping for the bullet he was about to manufacture. He
withdrew the plant from his pocket, placed the now rolled leaf on the
sheets of paper, and began to roll them together between his dextrous
and nimble fingers, long used to doing this delicate task. He turned
in time to see Marcel stagger out onto the veranda with the shots of
JD, reached out for his glass, at the same time finishing off the
roll, and licking down the edge for a secure finish. He passed the
over sized joint to his brother, and motioned for him to have first
dibs at the monstrous reefer. Hell, he knew it would be shit, what
with using fresh leaf, but what the hell, he felt good, and this leaf
looked high grade.
Marcel
removed the well worn Army surplus Zippo his father had left him form
his jeans pocket, and just as Breathe started up on the CD player,
took to the reefer with relish, lighting and dragging deeply in one
precise well practised motion, dragging the first smoke deep into his
decaying lungs. He held it for about ten seconds, savouring the hit
as it started to spread.
Then
he toppled over on the veranda, clutching at his chest, beating it
frantically, and throwing the reefer onto the grass as he toppled to
the ground in a thunderous painful heap.
*****************************
Stryder
wasn't prepared for what had happened. Sure the sudden change in
circumstances, the jostling and the rolling, and even more rolling
were scary, but by that stage, the first three bites had been
consumed and he was tripping away into centipede nirvana again. Hell,
he felt great. Death was the last thing on his mind. But the sudden
intrusion of the hot harsh smoke had snapped him out of his reverie,
and as he was sucked out of the leaf with a sudden gush, clarity
permeated his mind, and fear took hold. The wind carried him down
into a deep and moist crevasse, follicles of tiny hair reaching out
to grab him.
And
as suddenly as it had started, it ceased, and he found himself
resting in a tube like encasement, pliable under his feet, moist, but
nonetheless foreign. And the smoke began to affect him. Badly. His
paranoia took over and in his moment of fear, he bit into the fleshy
cavity, releasing his venomous protective juices to try and defend
himself. He hadn't expected the sudden rush of liquid and in a matter
of seconds, Stryder perished in the gooey mess of coagulating blood
and hemp smoke.
***************************
Roy
leapt off his seat on the balcony, trying in vain to reach out to his
dying brother, and in his haste, failed to see the glass at his foot.
He placed his bare foot straight down on top of it, breaking the
fragile object, and shards deeply pierced his skin, causing extreme
pain in his foot. But he had to get to his brother, and quickly,
something bad had happened, and it was possibly his fault. The
infernal joint? That damned reefer.
He
reached the slumped figure, blood streaming from its agape mouth and
nostrils, rich foamy red blood. He ran his finger through it, unable
to believe what was happening here. He took a long hard stare at the
tip of his finger to seek some sort of understanding as to his
brother's plight, quizzically scanning the blood with his bemused
eyes.
He
got up from his crouch, suddenly aware that he needed to call an
ambulance. He wasn't trained for this. Sure he had seen ER and
Chicago Hope plenty of times before, but he was only interested in
the great looking bods of the actresses, not interested in that
medical shit. He started walking inside to get to the phone, and as
the pain lanced up his leg from his wounded foot, he lost his
balance, and began to topple backwards. The crack of his head hitting
the veranda post was the last thing Roy ever heard.
***************************
Derek
woke up in the long grass, the sun streaming in through the tall
leaves, warming his shell. He crawled out from his temporary exile
and surveyed his surroundings. He saw the path before him, and tried
to think why he had seen it before. In fact his memory recalled he
had been across it before, but for the life of him, he couldn't
figure out when? Man, he thought to himself. My mouth tastes like
shit. Ah that's right, those leaves the centipede had cut for them to
share. Geesh, they were real bad karma. Trust a centipede to try and
screw him up. Oh, well, he thought, back to that juicy lettuce plant.
But later. When it's dark. Nobody around then.
No comments:
Post a Comment