#2: Trees Under Trees
My dour, pursed-lipped stick in the mud of a roommate had gone home for the weekend, much to my delight, so naturally, I was prancing around the room, leaping onto the beds and desks, as Lady Gaga blared in the background in my fervent attempt to diminish the vision of myself at age seventy, alone and decrepit, stuffed in a bland and sterile nursing home in some god-for-saken town with nothing but a wheelchair and tubes shoved in my nostrils; ruefully praying that I had extracted more wisdom and love from the disillusionment that was my life.
At first, I didn’t hear the urgent knocking that had my door wobbling in and out as thuds reverberated through my room. Then when I did hear it I yelped like a banshee undergoing surgery without an anesthetic and I proceeded to smooth my frizzed hair into place, and shuffled over to the door to see who in God’s name needed me this badly amid my two in the morning liberation jig.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” I said crisply as I opened the door.
It was my cousin who wasn’t really my cousin, Pearl. You see, our mothers were dear friends, our fathers third cousins with something or other removed, and my grandmother married her grandfather in an attempt at a second marriage. But of course, Pearl being the cool cucumber she was, was utterly unfazed. Her eyelids hung low with weariness and a tinge of stress.
“What’s the deal with your hair?” she barked, deadpan.
I scowled and self-consciously patted my head negligently.
“That seems to be the question of the year,” I retorted, hinting to my friends’ relentless harping of my wide array of bizarre hairdos.
“It could be worse though, I suppose. Thank the Lord you quit with the teasing already,” she said with a sigh, as if it was such a strenuous day for her to visually absorb me whenever I rocked a beehive.
“Okay, you had your cracks. How can I be of service?” I snapped hotly. I was this close to slamming the door violently on her fingers. Though of course, that would cause suck a ruckus that every busybody in my hallway would poke their head out like gossip-hungry ostriches to see what was going on. Especially my next door neighbor; Petunia. When she caught a whiff of something even a tad newsworthy, it would be like a shark sniffing blood.
Thankfully, Pearl cut to the chase.
“When’s the last time you had your mind altered?” she wondered.
I took a moment to allow this to sink in. Pearl had a tendency to get exceptionally cryptic when she wanted something. She would make a marvelous lawyer, with all the tricks she had up her sleeve. I raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean exactly?” I queried, crossing my arms over my bosom, or lack thereof.
“Okay, so I’m fucking stressed---Bio and Chem and my Humanities papers---I can’t take it, look at me I’m a hot mess! I’m turning into you---“ Pearl began, running a hand through her hair. But I cut her off.
“Do not blame me for your neurotic self rearing its ugly head! It’s about time!”
“Whatever. Want to hit a peace to calm my frenzied nerves?” she added, composedly.
I gasped, ever so slightly.
“Well why didn’t you say so?” I demanded, feeling a coiled ball of knots beginning to unravel deep within the pits of my abdomen.
“I knew I could count on you,” Pearl snickered with glee.
I sprung out of my room, failing to close my door all the way. Pearl eyed my bare feet.
“Shoes,” she said, waving a finger in my face.
“Oh me oh my, what a fool I am,” I exclaimed, tossing my hands into the air dramatically.
“You can say that again,” Pearl muttered under her breath.
I chose to ignore that comment and stabbed my feet into my tattered red Converses and pulled my keys out of my pocket to quickly lock my door and hobbled down the hall with Pearl. After I nearly toppled over onto her like a bowling pin, she rested a hand on my shoulder and stage whispered, “Tie your shoes, asshole. Don’t want to fall into a ditch or anything.”
Hey, how’d she hear that anecdote?
I smirked at her, tied my shoelaces in the most meticulous manner I knew how (two bunny ears then one goes under the hill), and we were off. As I strolled past Pearl’s room toward the exit sign, she yanked me back.
“Pit stop---we can’t blow without the blaze, yes?” said Pearl.
And before I could choose the perfect witticism to follow up with, she sputtered, “Don’t bother, I realized how that sounded just a moment after it came out.”
“Mmhmm,” was all I said. I flashed her an enormous, cheesy smile.
As we crossed the threshold of her door, right out of the corner of my eye I spotted Ling Kim, Pearl’s disheveled, glassy-eyed martian, who in other words, was her roommate. Ling Kim peered at me over her Nintendo controller with her bulging, Kermit the Frog eyes. She was sporting a hot pink beanie cap that looked like it was about five sizes too small for her head that was as elongated and misshapen as Beavis and Butthead's skulls. I nearly gasped when I fully took in her appearance. And allow me to say that I'm the kind of person who is rarely shocked by anything in this world. She was also rocking dump-truck loads of thick, black eyeshadow, eyeliner, and even to my horror, black lipstick. She looked as if she was half a breath away from flinging herself into a Sturgis rally.
Could she be anymore of a walking stereotype?
In addition to all of that shit, her nail polish matched what was on her face. Not to mention, the cherry on top of this sundae was her leather motorcycle gloves that even had chains dangling from it ever so subtly.
Okay, we get it Ling, you're highly menacing and are not to be fucked with.
Paradoxically enough, the girl was wearing a tiny little Hello Kitty t-shirt and matching Hello Kitty shorts. She looked like she stepped out of a children's catalogue.
But Ling Kim was never someone that had Pearl, myself or any of our comrades taken aback. I knew it was a result of all the high quality chronic she puffed on a daily basis. I was fortunate to always catch her in the aftermath of heavy inhalement, given that whenever I spotted her, strong clouds always tightly encompassed her. You certainly had to commend the girl on her taste.
“Pure shit only,” she once slurred to me, her breath reeking of Bailey’s whiskey as I caught a glimpse of a shiny, silver flask dangling off of one of her bed posts.
When all was said and done, the girl smoked like Snoop Dogg. Therefore, she wanted the world to know that they shouldn’t even bother raising judgments. Because she wasn't having any of it.
"Ready?" Pearl asked Ling Kim expectantly, clasping her hands together enthusiastically.
But Ling Kim just gazed at me sedately, raised her right eyebrow and wiggled her nose in such a violent, rapid manner that one would think she was auditioning for a role as Samantha Stephens in yet another "Bewitched" remake.
I grinned awkwardly and met Pearl's gaze. Luckily, we're absolute professionals at properly interpreting exchanged glances.
Suddenly, Ling Kim leapt up from her little wooden stool that was propped up in front of the television and pumped her fists high into the air as if she was about ready to rock out. And then, she finally spoke.
"Let's do this thing," she squealed, her beet-red eyes suddenly start to water. Miniscule beads of black and clear liquid oozed out of the corners of her eyes and carved just barely noticeable paths down the far sides of her cheekbones.
Evidently, Ling Kim was way ahead of us. We had some catching up to do indeed, that was for sure.
"I never knew she was such a diva," I whispered to Pearl.
"She's just full of surprises isn't she?" Pearl said, exasperated. She rolled her eyes, shook her head and we began to march out of the room, at long last.
We skulked down the beaten path that curved around our dorm building which led to the other buildings encompassing it. We stepped in silence as we listened to the gravel crunch beneath the soles of our shoes.
"Where do you ladies want to smoke? Choose anywhere, this is my treat," Ling Kim blurted out a tad too vociferously.
"Pipe down!" Pearl stage-whispered.
"Bitch please, whose out at this time of night? It's like four," Ling snorted, waving her hand dismissively across her chest.
“Be thankful, Pearly Gates, that this fine herb has been provided to us,” I added.
Pearl scowled at me and we continued on our way.
After lurking about trying to tune out any slight and unwelcome noises we happened to detect, we discovered the perfect place to camp out.
“Here we go. Let’s go right over there under those trees. It’s just shady enough for us,” I said, excitedly clapping my hands together while bounding into the air.
“Whoohoo!” Pearl yelped. “Yeah let’s be honest there’d be nowhere else discreet to go. We’d be all out in the open anywhere else.” “And we would be far too susceptible of prey, just asking for some bloodthirsty hunter or huntress to shed our blood and flesh and tear us into a billion miniscule pieces and toss us onto those hot seats forevermore,” Ling Kim murmured, barely audibly, as she dragged her fingertips across her ruddy cheeks.
“You got that right sister friend,” I said, patting her on the back as we continued on our way.
“Just two eccentric peas in a pod, I couldn’t be stunned about it for the life of me,” Pearl muttered from behind us. I could practically feel her eyeballs do a 360 turn.
MORE COMING SOON, OF COURSE!
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