I drove pretty easily, not withstanding the drugs.

We puffed a little refer, but not much.  Yawned most of the fifty minute ride.

As we pulled into town, the kit bag came out.

It was this little sandwich tote bad.  Neon green with a yellow zipper and orange trim.  Insulated and waterproof, it kept my stuff clean.

The stash was down.  Plenty of mushrooms, some acid, lots of reefer, the valium was unthinkable at this point, and a bottle of a couple of hundred ephedrine.

A pretty tame collection, all in all, but hey, I was nineteen.

After taking a couple of rounds off of the ephedrine supply, my heart was beating fast.  I was waking up.  Time for action.

We went over to a notorious house on the otherside of town, a house this kid's mother gave to him to fix up and live in.  It was kind of a dive, but we could do whatever we wanted.

The kid was a real loser by the name of Bise.  One of those fuckers that was just a little too thick to ever have a comfortable life, but marginally entertaining none the less.

It was rowdy when I showed up and started drinking heavily.  It was vodka with beer chasers at that point in my life, and I took to it with aplomb.

We smoked some refer, and then went upstairs, to sit on the roof of the porch, and party in fine white trash style.

I smoked some more, drank some more, and eventually gave the kit bag to my friend, who, even though he seemed to have some jitters, kept antagonizing me for more ephedrine--just to stay awake.

"Careful," I said, "Or your liable to have a heart-attack."

I got loud and rowdy, and mocked the people down below.

I called them peasants, and worse, told them that they weren't even really alive.  Dead in their skulls, zombies, servants to the Man.

I called them serfs, and told them that they needed to live, now, find a life, and shake off the shackles of normal life.

One kid tried to heckle me, Chad, who later on in life got convicted of three DUI's and counting.

I think some of them listened.  I have in terms wondered what the children thought of me with whom I grew up.  The more distant ones.  So much of what I did was to enlighten or entertain, and I think on a certain level, even though often they didn't understand me, or "get" me, they appreciated it.  At least I broke up the monotony.

And beneath their cool veneers of detachment, I think maybe I did do some good for someone.  In some way.

My friends sitting with me plied me with marijuana, and settled me down.  Gave me more to drink.

Now the details of this day become hazy.

A general call went up to go to another party.  Most of my friends vacated through the window into the house.

A friend, Wade, stopped me.

"No, Argentum-buddy.  This is how WE get down."

And with that, he grapped a slim tree next to the porch, and slid down.

"Well, hell,"  I thought,"If WADE can do it, I can fuckin' do it."

I leapt out onto the tree, grabbed it with my arms, and everything goes black.

*    *     *

I woke up, prostrate in the back of the car to the sounds of horrible music, and my friends arguing.

"Ohhh, my fuckin' head."  I said,"Where the fuck am I?"

Wade cackled madly.

"Where are you?  You're in the back of Will's car.  Where the fuck do you think you've been?"

"Dude, he's got a concussion."  Will said.

"How the fuck did I get here?"  I asked.

"You got in."  Wade said, and Will laughed a high pitched sadistic laugh.

"We were at Eric's party, the other party, and you rode with us, you were bitchin' about the country music, then you laid down, and got real quiet for awhile, and now you just got up and started bitching about your head."  Wade supplied.

"Not cool to bitch about the Hank."  Will admonished seriously.

"I just remember jumping out at that tree, and now I woke up here."  I said.

"Oh.  No.  A lot's happened since then."  Wade said,  "We'll fill you in later."

Will cackled a high pitched sadistic laugh, and Wade made some sort of gay joke.

Then I noticed that they were speeding down a main drag of town, with Will operating the gas and brake pedals, and Wade steering.

I decided to be as non-chalant as I could.

"Where are we going?"  I asked.

"God-DAMN,"  wade said, "If you ask that one more time..."

"Dude, easy, he's got a concussion." Will said.

"So?"

"...and its your fault,"  Will supplied.

"Oh, I suppose that makes a difference."  Wade mumbled, and they both erupted in gales of high-pitched sadistic laughter.

"We're going to a girl's house.  Is that okay with you?  A girl's house...a GIRL'S house."  wade said impatiently.

"Okay, fuck-face, I got it the first time."  I said.

"Fuck-face."  Will echoed, and laughed a high-pitched sadistic cackle.

"Well, you've been asking the same goddam questions over and over."  Wade replied,"And fuck you,"  he said, swatting at Will's head, "And fuck you, too,"  he said to me.

The car swerved sickeningly.

"Like I said, I don't remember anything from the tree, until a few minutes ago, so fuck YOU, asshole."  I said, losing patience.

Raising my voice made me wince in pain.

"And thanks for making me jump down that tree."  Will supplied.

"He didn't jump, so much as fall."  Wade corrected him.

"And its YOUR fault,"  Will supplied.

They cackled a high-pitch sadistic cackle together.  The car swerved again.

"Woah."  Wade said.

"Dude, you better apologize."  Will said.

"Okay.  Will,"  Wade said sincerely, "I'm sorry I made your car swerve."

Will laughed his sadistic laugh again.

"No, not to me, asshole, to him," Will indicated me with an incline of his head.

"Oh.  Allright.  Argentum, I'm sorry I made you jump off the porch, not realizin' how drunk and fucked up you were."  Wade said.

"Yeah, he's fucked up NOW,"  Will needled again.

"Okay, quit it.  I apologized."  Wade said.

I sat in silence.

"Well," Will intoned,"Do you accept his apology?"

"Yeah, yeah..."  I mumbled.

"What was that?"  Will demanded.

"YES!  FUCK!  OW!"  I said, after shouting made my head twinge again.

A silence overvcame the car.

"So..."  I said, "You guys are driving as a team?"

The both cackled madly.

"Yeah, Will didn't want to get a drunk driving ticket."  Wade said, and they laughed like crazy.

*    *     *

We pulled into the driveway of the house.  My head was throbbing and the car was quiet, as they had run a red light, and things got 'serious'.

Meaning Will drove the car by himself and talking was kept to a minimum.

Meanwhile, I had been struggling all night, it seemed, with my shorts.  The button was gone.  They kept falling down.

Where the fuck did the button go?  So many questions...

We were welcomed into the girls home.  There were two of them, on was cute, with long straight brown hair, and blue eyes, and the other wasn't exactly so, being blonde haired, "full-figured", and a somewhat negative attitude.

I walked in through the door, and both of the girls gasped.

"What?"  I asked

"You're pretty marked up,"  wade said.

"Here, let's get you cleaned up,"  the cute girl offered.

She took me to a bathroom, and I saw my appearance.

I looked like hell. 

I had a horrible scrape, that was starting to scab, over three quarters of my face, and a nasty welt on my forehead.  I looked like I fell off of my bike, and skidded on my face for a quarter of a mile.

"Whoo,"  I said, looking at my reflection.

The cute girl stood very close to me, and got some guaze to dab the blood off. 

"How did this happen?"  she asked.

"I have no idea."  I said, still not sure exactly what happened.

"This is gonna' sting, sweetie,"  she said delicately.  She was getting into the Florence Nightengale role, digging it.  I could tell.

She then dipped some guaze into alcohol, and cleaned the abraisons, blowing gently on my face, I guess to make it hurt less.

"You have really pretty eyes," she said.

Her lips were very close.  It was a moment.  I paused and let it pass.  After incurring severe cranial trauma and amnesia, fooling around was low on the list.

She looked me in the eye, and gave me a kiss on the cheeck.

"All done," she said, "I'd give you a band-aid, but..."

"Yeah, I wouldn't know where to put it, either."  I said.

I begged her for some tylenol, swallowed it, and went back to the living room.

Will was coupled slightly with the blonde girl, and Wade looked distracted.  Upon the girls return, he pounced.

Will pulled off the blonde, and we sat in companionate silence.  For all I know and cared, she might have been miffed that I was there, ruining her "chances", as it were.  But really, I don't think she had any.  Not that night.

There was a large bowl of marijuana sitting on the table, and she packed it full.  We passed it back and forth.  Will didn't smoke.

Eventually, for some reason, the girls had to huddle in the bathroom.  And the guys huddled.

We agreed to leave.

The girls came out, I thanked them for the hospitality, we said our goodbyes, and left.

The guys took me to my car, rather unwillingly, and I drove home, crawling into bed, relieved to have cool sheets surround me.

One more day in the weekend to go.

*    *    *

Months later, if not years, memories filtered through the amnesiatic period.

Apparently, I gripped the tree with my arms, and not my legs, and fell a story and a half prostrate to the ground.

Everyone was shocked.  It knocked the wind out of me.

Wade thought I was dying, and tried to loosen my clothing to help me breathe.  He ripped my shorts open, for whatever reason, and the button popped off.

Apparently, I got up, weaved my way to my car after asking people what happened to my beer, and fumbled with my keys, trying to get in and drive.

My best friend asked if I was all right, and I said I was.

As I stood there for awhile, fumbling with my keys, Wade and Will pulled up, and pulled me into Will's car.

We went to another party, of which I have no recollection. 

I do have a hazy recollection of the host taking his opportunity in my weakened state to fuck with me, although this may be fabrication.

I think he pushed me, and wanted me to leave, with blood dripping from my face.  He was a little bitch.

I wasn't sure of that until a few years later, when one of my friend's said something nebulous that made me think this happened.

As a result, I immediately went out and punked the guy out, really bad.  So I hoped it happened.  He claims to not remember me coming to his house that night--of course.

Either way, I made sure things were set right.

We then left that party, which was next door to my 'rents home, and drove all the way over to the other side of town, whereupon I "woke up" in the back of the car, although I had been rattling around for some time, drinking, talking, and other things.

Not my proudest moment.